Quiet Stories, Eternal Souls

In a world obsessed with noise—of war, social media outrage, and power struggles—it is easy to forget the quiet pulse that keeps civilization alive. But often, it’s the unnoticed acts—the gentle telling of a story, a father’s silent pilgrimage, the bloom of a flower in a hill village—that carry the deepest truths. Quiet Stories, Eternal Souls steps away from the headlines to honour the invisible threads that stitch our shared humanity: memory, love, resilience, and storytelling. This is not just a tribute to storytellers like Ruskin Bond, but to all who choose meaning over noise, and soul over spectacle.

Nalin Verma’s column in ‘Everything Under The Sun’ continues. This is the 13th article in the column.

“Civilization is a stream with banks. The stream is sometimes filled with blood from people killing, stealing, shouting, and doing things historians usually record, while on the banks, unnoticed, people build homes, make love, raise children, sing songs, write poetry, and even whittle statues. The story of civilization is the story of what happened on the banks.”
— Will Durant

Will Durant’s words remind us that the heart of civilization lies not in the clamor of conflict but in the quiet, creative acts that unfold on its banks—storytelling, poetry, and the simple joys of human connection . These “beautiful stories” are the lifeblood of any culture, sustaining its soul even in turbulent times. In the Indian subcontinent, a land steeped in timeless tales and storytellers, this truth resonates deeply. Despite the current din of violence, ethnic strife, and vitriolic exchanges on social media, there are those who continue to weave stories that soothe and nourish our collective spirit.

Ruskin Bond: The Gentle Storyteller of the Hills

One such storyteller is Ruskin Bond, whose 91st birthday on May 19 was a quiet celebration of a remarkable life. Born in 1934 in British India to Edith Clarke and Aubrey Alexander Bond, Ruskin faced profound personal tragedies early on. His mother left his father for another man when Ruskin was a teenager, and soon after, his father, a military man turned teacher, passed away, leaving young Ruskin to navigate a solitary path. 

Yet, from these hardships emerged a writer whose stories brim with warmth, empathy, and an enduring childlike wonder.

Settling in Landour, a serene enclave in Mussoorie, Uttarakhand, Ruskin transformed the hills—teeming with trees, flowers, animals, and ordinary people—into a vibrant canvas for his stories. His first novel, “A Room on the Roof”, written at the tender age of 17, marked the beginning of a prolific career that spans over seven decades. With countless tales to his name, most crafted with children in mind, Ruskin captures the magic of everyday life in a way few authors can.

Unlike Joseph Conrad or Ernest Hemingway, who plumbed the depths of seas and oceans, Ruskin explores the mysteries of the hills through their inhabitants—human, animal, and even spectral. His stories, whether fiction or non-fiction, are populated not by grand figures but by the common folk of Garhwal: boys, girls, villagers, and even the occasional tiger or leopard, rendered not as ferocious beasts but as lovable characters. In Sita and the River, Ruskin paints a vivid picture of a flood’s devastation through the eyes of a young girl from a poor family, creating an emotional impact that surpasses even the finest non-fiction. Similarly, The Blue Umbrella follows Binya, a village girl, in a tender tale of longing and resilience, while Night Train at Deoli evokes the fleeting yet profound ache of love and memory through a chance encounter with a tribal basket-seller.

Ruskin’s world is one where flowers bloom vividly, ghosts and witches are mischievous yet kind, and the smallest lives carry the weight of universal truths. His stories remind us that the essence of civilization lies in celebrating the ordinary, nurturing empathy, and preserving the child within us. At 91, Ruskin continues to write with the same enthusiasm, proving that the act of storytelling is itself an act of eternal renewal.

Belated happy birthday, Ruskin Bond. May you keep weaving your enchanting tales forever.

A Father’s Pilgrimage: A Story of Love and Sacrifice

While Ruskin’s stories capture the quiet beauty of life, other narratives remind us of the profound sacrifices that shape our world. One such story, shared by Paranjay Guha Thakurta on social media, speaks of a father’s unwavering love and duty in the shadow of war.

Each year, Col. Virender Thapar boards a flight from Delhi’s IGI Airport, not for leisure or business, but for an emotional pilgrimage to Drass, near Kargil. It is the final resting place of his son, Lt. Vijyant Thapar, who, at the age of 22, laid down his life during the 1999 Kargil War. In a heart-wrenching letter written before his final mission, Lt. Vijyant asked his father to one day visit the place where he and his fellow soldiers made their stand—and fell. Col. Thapar has kept that promise, returning to Drass every year without fanfare or cameras, honouring his son and the nation he served.

This is not merely a story of war but one of love, duty, and the unbreakable bond between a soldier and his family. It is a reminder that even in the face of loss, the quiet acts of remembrance and fidelity sustain the spirit of a civilization.

The Power of Stories

In a world often dominated by conflict and division, the stories of Ruskin Bond and Col. Virender Thapar remind us of what truly matters. On the banks of Durant’s metaphorical stream, these storytellers and unsung heroes build homes, nurture love, and keep the flame of humanity alive. Their tales—whether woven through fiction or lived through sacrifice—preserve the soul of our civilization, urging us to cherish the quiet beauty that endures amidst the chaos.

May we continue to tell, hear, and honour such beautiful stories, for they are the threads that bind us to our shared humanity.