It has fallen dark. I just arrived the Mall road. It is thronged. People celebrating Christmas. A large number of tourists are hanging around all over the Mall road and the Ridge. Everyone was expecting snow as last year after a long gap of nearly thirty, years we had white Christmas. Shimla is known for celebrating Christmas and New Year eve. In the hope of snow tourists move up to Shimla and are disappointed to experience sunshine here. But this year Shimla is white with sunshine.
During the day the sun is warm but as soon as we move to the shade, the chill climbs our legs. Long coats and jackets are in fashion these days and wearing them, the young girls in hunter shoes, look elegant. I cannot manage the crowd to I descend to Lower bazaar to buy my daily needs. It is calm here. As soon as it falls dark the locals, holding shopping bags in their hands full of vegetables, fruits, cereals or some spices, rush to their houses.
One can easily differentiate between a tourist and a local. The hill men are more sober and docile, always smiling and generally in a local attire, especially Kullu cap and hill women are in Punjabi suites with a shawl. Their rosy cheeks are a center of attraction for everyone, inviting kisses and hugs. Their naturally carved beautiful faces are keep them in the different category from other. They are not very tall but have an attractive figure with no extra fat on their bodies. The tourist men arriving here try to find an excuse to have a word with them but generally they fail as their ill behavior is not acceptable to these hill belles.
Holding the bag of my daily needs I walk back to my house. Up at the Ridge, the municipal corporation has kept some benches for the visitors to sit on. There, on the benches, I see a group of Punjabi boys, opening a bottle of whiskey and setting some glasses to prepare their drinks. I go to them and tell them that it is not allowed to drink in public. They refuse to listen to me and say that they would take only two drinks and go away. I warn them either to go away now or I would call the police.
I cannot tolerate anyone playing with the decorum of Shimla. They come here as guests to should behave like guests, no to sit on our heads.
They refuse to listen to me and showing the power of their giant sized bodies try to misbehave. I move away from the scene and fish out my mobile phone to dial 100, police control room.
A tinkling sound of a young police girl, perhaps newly recruited, answers my call and takes the complaint. It takes only two minutes for the policemen to appear at the scene. I approach them and tell them that I was the informer and show them the boys preparing their drinks. The policemen ask them to close and go with them to the police station. I tell the policemen in case they need my witness I shall come. They take my contact details and let me go.
The boys stare at me and I tell them that they should have listened to me.