By Ganesh Saili Choose any weekend to walk in Landour-Mussoorie, the combined stink of roasted chicken, burnt cordite, and smoking clutch plates is guaranteed to ruin your day. A stranger accosted me. He sidles up to me to ask if I live here. ‘Yes!’ said I hurriedly, in the manner of a reluctant bridegroom, I nod my head to say: ‘Yes I do!’ ‘Are there always so many tourists?’ ‘Yes!’ I admit. ‘It’s worse on weekends,’ …
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