Shimla where rains are not a season but a way of life

Shimla rains have their own charm — sometimes playful, sometimes punishing, but always unforgettable. For a schoolboy growing up in the hill town, the monsoon meant carrying a folded polythene sheet tucked neatly inside my schoolbag, ready to protect books from sudden downpours. One memory stands out clearly: dashing from Lakkar Bazar to Chhota Shimla in 40 minutes, just to rescue a forgotten homework copy before the teacher’s sharp eyes could notice.

The daily walk from Chhota Shimla to Lakkar Bazar was more than a commute; it was a ritual of growing up. Friendly walking races with classmates, laughter echoing through the mist, and the rhythmic pattern of rain on tin roofs shaped an enduring bond with the town. The Mall Road was the centre of this life, where every outing demanded an umbrella. As locals often warned, the weather in Shimla was never to be trusted — sunshine could vanish in minutes.

There were carefree rides on cycles along Sanjauli Road, and endless strolls on the leafy Forest Road where raindrops shimmered on deodar branches. The legendary “gadi walk” on Mall Road, popular with schoolchildren and college-goers alike, was both exercise and social ritual.

Each shower carried with it the fragrance of wet pine and earth, blending into a symphony of sights, sounds, and smells that remain etched in memory. For those who grew up in Shimla, the rains were not just a season but a way of life—reminding them of resilience, companionship, and the timeless beauty of the hills.

Anupam Bhaskar, Shimla