Varanasi : And the Muck

All right, I cannot write a series of posts about Varanasi and turn a blind eye (and plugged nose) to the muck that one encounters while ambling through its maze of lanes and bylanes. Here you are, basking in the beauty of a towering old palace when the stench of urine suddenly overwhelms you. Or you follow a narrow street, suddenly spot a small temple, and almost walk into a pile of shit still fragrant and warm.

That’s India, but more so than anywhere else, I felt, it is Varanasi.


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