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Kashi: Where Time Finds Its End and Beginning

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  Kashi: Where Time Bows Down In the beginning, there was only darkness — and then, there was Kashi. It is said that when the gods sculpted the heavens, Shiva claimed a small corner of the earth for himself — not a kingdom, not a palace, but a city of light: Kashi . "The luminous one," they called it, even before the first human footstep echoed on its ghats. Ancient Times: The Cradle of Souls Long before history began recording itself, Kashi was alive. They say that even when the continents shifted and civilizations crumbled, this city endured. It wasn't built by kings or carved by hands; it grew like a living soul. The Rigveda, one of the oldest surviving texts of humanity, whispered its name. Pilgrims, sages, wanderers — all journeyed to its ghats, believing that Kashi was not merely a place but a crossing point between life and eternity . In those ancient days, to die in Kashi was not an end, but a liberation. Moksha — freedom from the endless cycle of birth and...
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Forks, Faith, and Fried Goodness: My Kashi Chronicles

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  If you think Kashi is all about ghats, Ganga aarti, and sadhus humming mantras, my friend, you have only seen the trailer. The real masaledaar blockbuster is hidden deep inside the gullies — where every two steps lead you to either moksha or moonglet (sometimes both). First Stop: Kachori Sabzi at Ram Bhandar, Thatheri Bazaar The day kicks off the only correct way: with piping hot kachoris drowning in spicy aloo ki sabzi. Ram Bhandar is like that overachiever cousin — always bustling, slightly chaotic, but totally worth it. One bite and your taste buds will burst into a full-on Bhojpuri dance party . Don’t forget to gulp it down with a glass of thick lassi, otherwise how will you justify all your life choices? Second Stop: Tamatar Chaat at Deena Chaat Bhandar, Dashashwamedh Gali If your tongue hasn’t cried tears of spice yet, you haven't lived. Enter Deena Chaat Bhandar, where tomatoes, spices, and a thousand other ingredients marry each other in a bowl, then have a ‘tamarind...
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Kashi: A Letter from the Chaos I Now Miss

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There’s a kind of silence in Kashi that isn't quiet. It hums under the noise—like an old song your soul knows the lyrics to, even if your ears don’t. When I first walked into that city, nothing made sense. The alleys twisted like ancient riddles, the people moved with purpose I couldn’t decode, and the air? It felt like it was made of smoke, prayer, and unspoken promises. Yet somehow, I never felt lost. It was like Kashi knew I was coming. People don’t “visit” this city. They stumble in, and Kashi decides whether to let them stay. And even if you leave, parts of you linger there, like leftover incense in temple corners. On the first morning, I tried asking for directions to the ghat, and my brain turned into a pile of scrambled words. The man selling jalebis just smiled and pointed, like he knew what I meant even before I did. That’s how Kashi is. It listens beyond words, responds beyond language. By the second day, I’d stopped trying to narrate the city. It’s not a place you talk ...
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