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Ruskin Reviewed











'They have never heard of anyone in Delhi walking from choice.
As in big cities in world over, the people of Delhi are rapidly losing the use of their legs.'
-  Ruskin Bond.

Subject:Book Review
Aim:To get selected as a 'young critic' for the 1995 WH Smith Mind Boggling Book Awards.

Julie RandlesName   : Pushkin Passey
WH Smith Ltd.Address: 78 Frances Street
Greenbridge Road         Fulford
Swindon SN3 3LD         York Y01 4DP
 School : Fishergate County Primary School
 Age    : 9 years (b. 07.11.1985)

Book Chosen : 'The Room On The Roof' by Ruskin Bond
              A Puffin Book.     ISBN 0-14-010783-5

I am an Indian boy and I have liked whatever I have seen, of english culture. But Rusty, the sixteen year old hero of this book, does not like it at all. He is bored by his guardian, english food, and lots of other interesting english customs.

The boy, unhappy with the culture and the strict ways, one day goes to an Indian bazaar near Dehradun. he has never been there except once in his guardian's car. There he makes a few friends -- Mr. Krishen Kumar, Somi, Ranbhir, and Suri. His first friend was Somi who met him on the road on his bicycle. Then Somi's friends became Rusty's friends too. Frinedship is really so easy.

Rusty does many things for the first time in his life. He and his friends 'ate chaat, a spicy salad of potato, guava and orange; and gol-gappas, baked flour-cups filled with burning syrups.'

Then at one time Rusty wanted to take a bath...and there was no bathtub, no foam bath, no bubble bath. Somi took him 'to the tap with cold water in, like a glacier in the mountains', within a rectagular boundary which was cementer and had no colours in it...'and inside it you can take bath', Somi told Rusty.

There are many other interesting things in the book, but I've liked the above things best. I liked how Rusty remains with Indian Culture, living in a room on the roof. In the end Krishen tells him : 'One day you'll be great, Rusty. A writer or an actor or prime minister or something. Maybe a poet! Why not a poet, Rusty?'

I do not know what Rusty became, but I would like to end with this short poem that I wrote:

Rusty, the little boy
Who is very annoyed
With the rules
And english schools
And the food
Eaten in a bad mood.

One day he goes to Indian parts
Where there are many bullock-carts
Then he eats some food
In a great mood
He liked it there
And kept himself with good great care!!



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