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 was going through my photos and wondering what to post today for Navaratri. And I found this... from the outer wall of the Vitthala Temple at Hampi...
When we think of dancing with sticks, we think of Garba during Navaratri in Gujarat. But such forms of dancing aren't confined to Gujarat alone. Down south, the same is called 'Kolattam', which literally translates to 'dancing with sticks'!! And this is what is depicted here. Doesn't it look beautiful???
Interestingly, if you look closer, you will notice that, on the right, the last figure isn't a girl. It is a boy, holding what looks like a trumpet in one hand and a drum in the other! It is such small details which make these temples so special!

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