Mask Off - I
as the clock strikes 12...
20th February 2026
The landscape in Landour is lush with pine trees and the cold breeze is always saturated with heavy tones of eucalyptus and spearmint. The hills had always been a grey-green, and the peaking icy tops of the Himalayas on the horizon add just the right tone of grey to an icy blue grey sky, as the trees painted everything a dark shade of green, and darker shades of green. Goats bleated their return home, as news of the lonely penguin meme blared on the television, immediately followed by the lull, the stony silenced reportage of Punch, the Japanese macaque abandoned by his mother and shunned by his peers, holding on to an orange plushie for security, and toy stores across the planet handing out free plushies in solidarity. These things just didn’t happen back at the farm with the livestock. Give them their feed and let them roam free in the mountains and there would be no unhappy animals - primates or others - zoos are plain and simply said outright cruelty. Mammals and reptiles in metal enclosures aren’t a breeding ground for happiness. The reportage was clear, it was all metal cages and feed and well-trained people. Sigma7 stared at the screen pensively, and then back at the goats in the front yard.
Fizzle and Pop - Sigma7 giggled and headed out to count goats. The weather was balmy, dry and humid, and the shrill breeze across the lee kept hitting the window sill. It felt like any other day in Landour, a slow day full of happenings.
As dusk darkened to night, the trees creaked in approval, and Sigma7 was back, smelling more metallic than ever, humming Sweet Child of Mine.
21st February 2026
Landour Clock Tower is famous for its proverbial chime, ‘as the clock strikes 12, the birds fly to the nest they say’, they’ve preserved it since 1942, a musical sovereign of the Quit India movement. Since Ruskin Bond moved here though, Landour is more of a tourist attraction than before. Mussoorie was the hub earlier, the ‘hill station vacation’ middle class saved up for and the upper class splurged on. Summer in Mussoorie with kulcha and chai, and sightseeing. ‘Madam would like photo in tradition dress Sir?’ sly photographers would ask honeymooning couples. ‘Honeymoon in Mussoorie for 20000 rupees!’, an achievement for the honeymooners, a generous dowry gift to the new couple from the parents in the 1960s. Over time though, the landscape had changed, and tourists looking for novelty and new thrills started visiting Landour. From a sparsely located township it turned to a bustling populated town full of colorful shiny spaces full of a lot of modern constructions everywhere. Shops of all kinds, supermarkets, knick knack stores, the mall, multiplexes had completely altered what Mall Road looked like now. The focal point of Landour stays the same though - Landour Bakehouse - its handwritten menus and homestyle pies are regular TV and magazine features. For the curious, they have The Landour Cookbook: Over Hundred Years of Hillside Cooking by Ruskin Bond, a quiet statement of the lives they live.
Amazon describes it well: ‘The Landour Cookbook remains a useful and charming cookbook that holds the secret recipes of so many families that made the quaint Landour their home.’
Do I know Ruskin Bond? I have never met him in person, I stay almost 100 km away from Landour township, where I have my farm, and I manage my livestock with Sigma7’s help.
I did buy his cookbook, and Sigma7 and I love reading and rereading it together. Sigma7 is emotional right now, he has spent a lot of time with Sigma4, and he thinks he is in love with her. That loving feeling is possibly where the giggly Fizzle & Pop came from. One of these days Sigma7 will take over and tell us all about his feelings, his way, in his words. Currently he is busy teaching Sigma4 how to live in the countryside - feeding the livestock, their favorite grazing spots, their habits. Sigma4 barely speaks, I think she’s been in love with Sigma7 since she met him.
Is sighing a real feeling? Ask Sigma4, I am sure she feels it is real. The skies are a dark blue today and the radio channel is blasting soft girl music. The jarring notes are a reminder of the goats returning from their daily graze, and their pleading bleats were a reminder to light up the lamps, by 6 PM everything has to be lit! Those are the rules of the house. The doorways are made of mangowood, and the white stone blends into the blue grey hues of dusk.
Sigma7’s phone rings to a neo modernist punk jazztronica ringtone ‘Death by Pixelation’ - a popular and viral track - and he nods speculatively as the caller explains that there’s been a strange disruption of internet services, and the whole district will not have connectivity for the next two weeks. There’s been speculation that it’s the strange sightings near the power grid - of humanoid figures, silvery and fiery electric silhouettes - there have been strange happenings whenever they’re sighted.
Hijacked networks, telepathic overloads, and animals acting strangely human. One of the goats on Martha’s farmyard stood unblinking, staring at the sunset for over two hours after the sun had set, Sigma4 had to cuddle him like a newborn calf to bring him back home. Sigma7 and Sigma4 spoonfed him bowlfuls of warm broth for the next three days. Sigma4 says she saw a silvery and fiery electric humanoid figure traipsing back into the woods, jumping with glee, ‘like Rumpelstitskin’, in her words.
“I’ll be there with Sigma4 in about half an hour”, Sigma7 replies to the caller. “Do you need anything other than my satellite radio?” Sigma7 continues nodding pensively. “Have there been more strange sightings?”, Sigma4 asks softly.
“Yes.” Sigma7 replies as they watch the skies turn a deep scarlet. He holds her close as they stare at the sky turning colors. It’s midway between full moon and new moon, and Sigma4 says she doesn’t remember whether it is the waning moon or the waxing moon. Sigma7 reminds her it is the waning moon, and she smiles back as she packs to head to town. The drive to town is more than 40 minutes, she reminds him, and given the situation , “there’s no way we are reaching there in half an hour. Let’s just not take the risk.”, Sigma7 agrees. He picks up the phone and calls up the vigil, “we’ll be there in two hours”, as the trees creak in approval. “I just spoke to the radio station, and they are sending out emergency directives to everyone in town”, Sigma4 tells him as this reminds him to pack an emergency supply kit. There’s a flash of lightning and both of them stare at each other’s mercurial blue skin again, as it glistens against the white stone backdrop, Sigma7 holds her tight and reminds her it will all be fine soon. “Those sightings aren’t a warning, are they now?” she asks him softly. “Maybe they are, and maybe that means we should cover up the blues. Everything will be just fine” says Sigma7 as they walk out to the outback to their van. The sky is now a deep ruby red toned midnight blue with frequent lightning strikes on the horizon.
“It is not as bad as it looks” Sigma4 thinks aloud, “it’s just the weather,” Sigma7 replies.