Nainital: A touch of the old in the new

Despite rampant modernity, Nainital manages to retain its old charm, feels

Never again," I'd sworn when I was forced to wade through cars, tourists and hundreds of temporary shops selling everything from candles to milkshakes of dubious antecedents when I'd last visited Nainital. "Never again," I'd declared in a traffic jam on a road so steep that the driver had to quickly jump off to wedge a stone in the rear tyres, so we won't roll off the hill. "Never again," I promised when the quiet of the mountain night was disturbed by sounds from the discos nearby. They say, never say never again. For less than a year later, I find myself reluctantly heading to Nainital again. But there's a difference. It's not high season, and the weekend rains have kept the crowds away. And I find myself smitten by this quaint hill town, and the people I meet here.

A gentle drizzle sweeps the lake as I check in to the Grand Hotel. Built by the British in 1872, in its earlier avatar as The Albion, this is one of Nainital's oldest hotels. A large thermos of masala tea in hand, I watch the clouds dance their eternal dance from its capacious verandah. Fringed by thick forest, the lake, reflecting the rain-bearing clouds above, is dark, mysterious even, and I recall how the British likened Nainital to the Lake District. There isn't a single touristy swan-shaped boat to be seen, and I heave a contented sigh.

Later, as I walk through the Mall, the many drains that flow down from the hilltop, are gurgling with new life from the rains. Built by the British, these drains, all 79 km of them, ensure that rainwater runoff does not cause any damage downhill. Many of these had been encroached upon by hoteliers, but a PIL in 2012 ensured that all encroachments were demolished. Ajay Rawat, the man behind this PIL (and many others, for he's made it his life's mission to safeguard Nainital's fragile ecology) tells me he's at loggerheads with the district administration over the alleged felling of 180-odd old broadleaf trees inside the zoo. From the rejuvenation of Sukha Tal (the source of water in Naini Lake), to the repair of streetlights in the Mall, to the removal of stray dogs from Naini Lake - he's filed petitions for these and more. "Over the years, I've even sold land to pay the legal fees," says Rawat. His reward? Last year, when a cloudburst hit Nainital, the drains transported the debris downhill, with no destruction of life or property.

Thandi Sadak, the pedestrian path that moves alongside the lake

  I buy fresh strawberries from a roadside vendor, as two schoolchildren empty their pockets to share one basket. They eat the berries without pausing to wash them, and I'm reminded of my many friends who've studied in Nainital's excellent boarding schools. They say that Nainital always takes them back to simpler times when life revolved around sports, movies and tuck shops. As I amble around the Flats early morning, I can almost see Nainital through their eyes. This huge ground adjoining the lake is full of apple-cheeked youngsters playing football, cricket and basketball. Later, my driver tells me that he too belongs to a village not far from Nainital.For him, growing up, Nainital was a westernised place which he neither understood nor likes. "I stayed here for a week as a boy when my grandfather was hospitalised, and found that boys my age spoke, dressed and behaved so differently," he said. "They could have been from a different planet altogether!" A boatman vainly tries to get me on his boat as I walk past. "Half price for you Madam!" he cajoles. "Naini Lake looks forlorn without a single tourist boat on it!"

I meander down the Thandi Sadak, the lovely pedestrian path alongside the lake, wondering at how Nainital means different things to the different people I've met here - it's the haunt of hungry schoolboys as well as the battleground where property developers and money-hungry locals constantly wage war against its environment. It's where tourists come to holiday and the poor come to earn a living off them. Sitting in the wonderful Sakleys Mountain Cafe enjoying an enormous lunch, I muse that Nainital is like an old beauty,wrinkled and out of sync with modernity. Yet, every time she smiles, one's heart skips a beat or two at the sudden glimpses of her enchanted youth.