Tintin in DehraDun. The new adventure. Fiction.

Tintin and Snowy arrived at the railway station. They had always heard of this quite, polite town, inhabited by courteous and well mannered folks. The place in India for Tintin fans and much needed rest.

To receive the world famous reporter was the local administration, headed by the Mayor of Doon. The Mayor was of course overjoyed. He will be showing Tintin around, and also giving our favorite reporter the details of the many things we are doing to make our city more adventure prone.

A car for Tintin is parked right outside the station porch, with a red beacon flashing. “Am I a state guest?” asks Tintin. “No, No,” replies the Mayor, “pointing at all the other white cars with Red or Blue beacons, “you see, this is the capital of our state, Uttrakhand…we have to make sure that people know we are at the seat of our government.” Tintin started reading the little red boards in front of the cars aloud:

1. Manager, Gandhi Park Morning Walkers Association.
2. Chief Warden, Bushes and Hedges Club.
3. Secretary, Sulabh Shauchalya , Rajpur Road Branch.
4. Chief, Adventures of Tintin.

Tintin quickly got into the last car; that he was sure was for him, but didn’t like when the driver switched the sirens on. “Is this what most people do here Sir?” Tintin asked the driver. “Yes Sir, Tintin Sir,…you see nobody really stops you if you’re in a large white car, with a red or blue light on top ; and a red plate in front saying that you’re important. So everybody puts a red board saying whatever they do” Tintin noticed another board that said ‘Brother and Principal, High Class School’. He knew immediate…this city is special.

The car left the station and picked speed. “And what is that long structure” Tintin continued peeping out of the window as the car sped on. “Oh that! That sir is called Ghanta Ghar. We don’t really need it now. The British wanted us to be punctual so they built one for the city. Now we just look at our mobile phones for time.” “It’s a nice looking piece of architecture…does the city not preserve it?” asked Tintin pointing at the many Peepal shoots coming out of the structure and spoilt clocks. “Oh we do sir, once every 10 years, this gets painted. The elections for the local municipality are in 3 years. We still have time for repairs, and those trees growing on the structure…you see Sir, we can’t cut trees anymore in the city. Bad for the environment.” Tintin just opened his mouth a little, and then shut it; without saying anything.

This is when he suddenly heard strange sounds. Car horns, bike horns, double tone high octave horns…all at once. He was sure the driver was on the wrong side. Why would so many people suddenly get so loud on the road? By this time the driver was sure that this foreigner needed some advice. “Sir, you see, you seem to be from a different generation. This is DehraDun. We were at one time a polite and well mannered town. But that was way back sir.” Said the driver, as he continued spitting Paan outside his window.

Tintin looked at the filth on the road and finally said “Isn’t there a train leaving town in 20 minutes?”.

Vineet Panchhi owns and runs Audio Wagon, his lifelong passion and now a music company. He blogs at Unplanned Journeys , and can be reached at: vineet.panchhi@audiowagon.com