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...
Summer Holidays are here, and finally, I can get away from this city. I am off for a whole month this time, but before you start envying me, I will be with relatives most of the time, registering my attendance at family events. Yes, of course, there is a little bit of touring thrown in too... I am first headed to Coorg, for two short days, just to get some much needed R&R! Later, I am spending a day in Fort Kochi and another couple of days at Cherai Beach.
Please keep posting the Great Images of the Great places you visit.
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