Memory is unpredictable . One never really knows what we will remember and what we will forget. Which is why nostalgia arrives in unpredictable waves, highlighting something and skimming over others. Recently, I have found myself thinking of how memory works, as I was assailed by nostalgia over a trip to Varanasi, a city I prefer to think of, as Kashi. The nostalgia hit right as we landed at Varanasi airport. The last time I was here, it was 1988, I was 13 years old, the airport was brand new… regular flights hadn’t started yet (I think) … flights landed about once a week, and for the rest of the time, everything was open to those of us who lived in the airport quarters nearby. There were fields everywhere, vast expanses of green… I have vague memories of corn and sugarcane… and being overwhelmed by the vastness of the fields (this was the first time I was in such close proximity to them), and the warm hospitality of complete strangers who lived and worked amidst these fields. I h...
I had been to Amritsar as a kid, when I was even younger than Samhith. While returning from Jammu, we stopped at Amritsar, to visit the Golden Temple....
My memories of Amritsar proved to be vague at best... and the city had changed beyond recognition... Jalianwala Bagh had a completely new look, and I had to stretch my memory to remember even a bit of how it was then.... and so was Wagah Border... a place I remembered for its dignified and serious change of guard had turned into a circus!!! No wonder, every time I sat down to write a post about it, I found myself lost for words!
Nice shot!
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wow..!!!
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