**Varanasi** a dismal, cloyed fever dream on the ganges

just wandered into a crumbling ashram off panchganga ghat, screen half-empty with flickering sweat. temp’s 29.24 messy degrees, feels like 28. spit on the name. humidity’s a damp sock hugging everything. weirdest part? the ganges smells like oranges gone rancid. maybe khajoor? someone told me that.

stumbled past a guy hawking banana leaves in a tin hat. tried haggling, ended up buying three for the price of one. ripened so fast they sprouted in the cup. woke up to a parade of calypso sarees down the gadha chhaya street. women in handwoven chaos, weaving stories faster than their looms. my eyes hurt.

found a tiny shop called kalpavriksha thrift-tins of sari scraps, half-stitched salwar kameezes, cheap enough to be giftable. bonus: the lady sold me a mirror labeled ‘sell back after 2024’ with a wink. tried using it to stare down a lower caste kid begging me to carry his backpack. felt like breaking a law even he didn’t know existed.

some old-timer swears the holy water tastes like mangoes if you drink it at dawn. heard that. tried it. tasted like regret and electrolytes. temple guards at kashi viswanath said crowd levels would hit ‘apocalypse-maybe-flee-now’ by next monsoon. booked a stay at purvanchala palace, all dusty colonial relics and agrawal secrets. clicked on the varansi street food scene tripadvisor link-they’re serving laddu with a side of slow jazz now. why?

if you get bored, jaipur’s barely a day’s train ride away. sloth bear way more fun in corner.’ve heard that too. map’s cluttered with red pins about rumored hauntings near shanki gali. clicked on one: ‘beware the weeping saint statue at 3am.’ maybe kiss the ghost? or just spit? map says you’re here, embedding greed:


clicking through linkedin rumors-destroyed ground truth here. found a newsletter from the vegetarian sous-vide rebels, one post: ‘crushed nutmeg in a plastic box-fine. crushed lives? fine. but crushed in-jokes? keep ’em coming.’ also listed a yoga teacher who charges in stolen sony vegas footage. would watch her tutorial on grief asanas if not so sweaty.

images: first pic’s a banyan tree in a mall parking lot, second’s a cat sleeping on my uncle’s abandoned typewriter, third’s the sun rising like it’s midway through a debate. #varansi #notaskingquestions

ps: locals hate the ‘city of light’ sobriquet. tell ’em you’re into thrift hauls. they get weirdly polite. hands over a packet of dal. whisper: *‘maybe reheat it at brijetz’s dhaba?’*. nitro beats, just like that.