The Forgotten Dream of the Mussoorie Railway

Mussoorie, often called the Queen of the Hills, has long been a symbol of peace and calm in northern India. Located in the Himalayas, Mussoorie, Uttarakhand, became one of the most favourite hill stations during the British era.

But have you ever wondered why there is no Mussoorie train even today, when other hill towns like Shimla and Darjeeling have their own iconic railways? The answer lies in a forgotten story filled with grand ambition, innovation, greed, and misfortune. This is the story of the Dehradun Mussoorie Electric Tramway.

By the late 19th century, the British had already connected Shimla and Darjeeling by train, but Mussoorie remained cut off from the rail network. Travellers had to reach Dehradun train station and then endure a steep, winding journey to the hills. The Dehradun to Mussoorie distance of about 35 kilometres might sound short today, but back then, it took hours by mule or cart.

In 1896, a plan was proposed to connect Haridwar to the Mussoorie train route via Rajpur while skipping Dehradun completely. But the local British residents and hotel owners in Dehradun stood against this plan. Their fear was that the railway could divert visitors away from the small town. Thus, the project was shelved. Instead, the Haridwar–Dehradun line opened in 1900, bringing the plains closer to the foothills, but not the hills themselves.

Still, the dream of travelling from Dehradun to Mussoorie by train never faded. After World War I, as cars were still rare, an idea emerged to build a light, electric tramway powered by hydroelectricity. It was a futuristic concept for its time.

In 1921, the Dehradun–Mussoorie Electric Tramway Company Ltd. was formed in Calcutta. It was the brainchild of Belti Shah Gilani, a businessman from Gujranwala, who promised investors an eco-friendly, affordable railway that would climb right up to Landour, near the Himalaya Club Hotel.

The route stretched about 35 km, starting near Dehradun’s Parade Ground and passing through Rajpur, Jharipani, and Barlowganj. The trams were to be lightweight, double-decker, and powered by the Galogi hydroelectric plant near Dehradun. The estimated cost was ₹36 lakh, which was a considerable sum back then.

Even the Maharajas of Nabha and Jind invested heavily. The Maharaja of Nabha contributed ₹10 lakh, which later caused him immense trouble. The project was hailed as revolutionary, expected to make the Dehradun to Mussoorie journey take less than two hours.

Construction began with great enthusiasm. Tracks were laid near Dehradun to Mussoorie road, two stations were built, one near Parade Ground and one in Rajpur, and a tunnel at Jharipani began taking shape. Workers, engineers, and investors believed they were witnessing history.

But the Himalayan terrain had other plans. The ground near Jharipani was unstable shale that often collapsed. In 1923, a tragic tunnel cave-in killed several workers, forcing engineers to halt the project. The geology made further tunnelling unsafe and extremely expensive.

At the same time, financial troubles began surfacing. Allegations arose that company funds were being misused. Belti Shah Gilani was accused of fraud and sentenced to five years in prison. The newspapers mockingly called him “Guilty Shah”. The Maharajas lost their fortunes, and the company was liquidated by 1926.

Adding to the woes, political unrest during India’s Non-Cooperation Movement and the growing popularity of motor roads weakened investor confidence. With time, travelling to Mussoorie by road populaised. With this, the need for a tramway project also declined.

The dream project of building a Delhi to Mussoorie train route or a Haridwar to Mussoorie train route never completed and with that, alternate options were explored. This included the Dehradun to Mussorie ropeway project, which is quicker and offers a much scenic travel.

However, remnants of the old tramway still whisper the story of that lost dream. Near Jharipani, a collapsed tunnel can still be seen along the Kipling Trail. Locals call it haunted, but historians view it as a reminder of colonial ambition. Some rusted tracks and ballast stones still lie buried under modern roads between Rajpur and Jharipani. The two original tram stations survive too, repurposed today as power substations.

For those who love history for its hidden trails, this forgotten project is an interesting chapter. It represents the moment when innovation met nature’s limits and when greed overshadowed good engineering. Elderly locals in Mussoorie to Dehradun region still recall stories told by their grandparents about the “electric wonder” that never came to life.

If it had succeeded, tourists today might have travelled Dehradun to Mussoorie by train, watching the mist-covered valleys from tram windows instead of through car windshields. The idea now feels almost magical, an electric railway moving its way up the hills nearly a century ago.

Today, as the government plans Dehradun to Mussoorie ropeway to revive hopes for a faster and unbothered travel, the old tramway’s story reminds us of the thin line between vision and vanity. It still stands as an incomplete dream that still has its traces on the landscape.

Tribhuvana Mahadevi I’s story is not just about kings and battles. It is about redefining the fact that a ruler’s strength comes from compassion as much as from command. She blended spirituality with politics, knowledge with action, and humility with power.

During her reign, Odisha became the land of learning, equality, and peace, a society where the goddess was not just worshipped but mirrored in real women who ruled kingdoms. Her reign, rooted in the principles of the three shaktis, remains a timeless example of balanced and ethical governance.

Tribhuvana Mahadevi I is a chapter of India’s past that celebrates women not as exceptions but as equals. Her name deserves a firm place among India’s greatest rulers, a true pioneer who proved that power, when guided by wisdom and virtue, knows no gender.