Later, in September 1941, Shri Nathji and Mateshwari shifted to a cottage adjoining Roxy Theatre in Kulri. The name of the place was Plevna Cottage.
It was close to the Mosque at Kulri. The place belonged to a Muslim owner who invited Shri Nathji to live in it, free of rent. However the moment he left the city, his Hindu estate agent began asking for rent from Shri Nathji, which Shri Nathji willingly paid.
There was Pran Nath sitting in the sunshine at Plevna Cottage, playing with a solar hat, even as Shri Nathji and Mateshwari continued to live there. Mateshwari was with child again. The time for delivery was approaching near. Neither Shri Nathji nor Mateshwari had wished the delivery of their second child to take place at Dehra Dun. Here was a strange thing–Shri Nathji and Mateshwari exiling themselves from their own home at Dehra Dun and seeking refuge in rented places at Mussoorie.
Although the days were pleasant, the air was beginning to smart with the cold touch of the approaching winter in the nights. There was the winter line in the horizon – a thin dividing line that appeared as a boundary between the earth and the sky. It was a phenomenon that was witnessed only in Mussoorie and perhaps only one other place in the world.
Shri Nathji would always point to the winter line in the horizon whenever he was in Mussoorie in the month of October.
Shri Nathji would always quote R.R. Khanna, the scientist, on the wonders of the month of October.
He would say: R.R. Khanna kahaa kartaa thhaa ke October ke maheene men havaa men ek Ozone nikalti hai jo health ke liye bahut mufeed hoti hai!
“R.R. Khanna always used to tell me that during the month of October a certain element, Ozone, was present in the atmosphere of Mussoorie which was very good for the health.
Those were the days when medical aid, as it was known in the major cities, was practically unknown in Mussoorie. The three or four doctors that were in the city lived at considerable distances. If the weather were inclement or if it were raining it would be impossible either to reach a doctor or to call him home. Telephones were non-existent. Even telegrams were uncertain, though the British had established a very good postal system in the city and letters arrived with regularity.
Although Dehra Dun – which had several doctors and hospitals, was only 22 miles away from Mussoorie, yet it was difficult to reach. Buses and taxis would not always be available, and, in the winters, when the tourists stopped coming to Mussoorie, even these vehicles were rarely seen. Thus a person could be virtually stranded in the city. A medical emergency was the worst thing that could hit any person residing in Mussoorie, especially in the winter.
By October, even the local population of the city thinned and the doctors shifted to the plains. Many of the shops began to close for the winter and the streets were empty by the time it was evening. Even the rickshaw coolies departed for their homes in Garhwal. If a person were too sick to walk, there would be no means of transporting him to a doctor or to another place. There was a Main Hospital at Landaur but it was so far away as to be inaccessible for most of the citizens of the city.
It was in such an environment that Shri Nathji was living with Mateshwari at Mussoorie. His arm was filled with an unremitting pain that made movement difficult. And there was Mateshwari in weak health herself, with child. The strain of living alone at Dehra Dun in a hostile atmosphere had ruined her health. Shri Nathji had even suspected that conspiracies had been hatched at Dehra Dun to poison Mateshwari, and had, thereafter, called her to Mussoorie to himself without delay. Veeran Devi the elder sister of Mateshwari was also with her at the time.
In the midst of the depressing cold nights of the Autumn, there was Shri Nathji’s verse:
“Zulmate shab men nazar aayi kiran ummeed kee
Shaame gham lekin khabar laayi hai subah Eed ki
In the darkness of the night was seen a Ray of Hope,
The evening of sorrow brought with it the news of Joy”