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 first read about Sewri Fort in an article on the various forts in Mumbai. Every time I visited the Sewri Jetty to see the flamingos and other birds, I wondered where the fort was. A friend later told me that it was just off the road we took to reach the jetty. Unfortunately, ardent birdwatchers aren’t always heritage enthusiasts, and I never found company to go to the fort. Much as I love to explore, going into a deserted and ruined fort alone didn't seem the safest thing to do, and the fort remained on my wish list for all these years. When Travel-Logs announced their Sewri Walk, the one place I was keen to visit was the fort. Thankfully, the dates and timings were convenient for once, and I eagerly jumped on to the bandwagon!