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...
Our introduction to Fort Kochi and her glorious history began with our visit to the St. FrancisChurch , the oldest European built church in India. Then, the Mattanchery Palace gave us an insight into the lives of the Hindu rulers, who were the original inhabitants of this beautiful town. A few minutes’ walk now brought us to another, and even more fascinating aspect of Fort Kochi – the Jew Town. Special Cancellation at the Jew Town Post Office, Mattanchery Jetty