Dehradun, April 6 -- Internet

By: Ganesh Saili

Rahul Kohli came to see me one afternoon. It was a day when the hills were half-hidden in a drifting mist, and the rain threatened to pour.

'I've brought something you might like,' he said, unwrapping a bundle of old papers as carefully as though they were leaves pressed between the pages of time.

I admit, they did not look like much at first.

A few faint lines, wandering uncertainly across brittle sheets. Some circles, some squiggles, suggested ridges and slopes. The sort of drawings one might dismiss at a glance and set aside.

But the hills have a way of revealing themselves slowly.

We bent over the papers together. Outside, the wind stirred the trees, and now and then a ray of sunli...