Dehradun, Oct. 19 -- Screenshot

Going back to Mussoorie after seven years stirred emotions I had not quite expected. After all this was home. The little hill station where I grew up and where almost every bend in the road held a story.

Seven years did not seem very long until I returned.

The mountains stood exactly where I had left them. The winding roads were unmistakable and the cool mountain air still carried that familiar scent. Some places settle so deeply within you that you do not realise how much of them you carry until you find yourself there again.

Yet as I moved around I sensed how much had changed.

I grew up in a Mussoorie where almost everybody knew everybody else. Faces had names. Names belonged to families and families...