wanderlust in chhindwara: vintage threads & ghostly gossip

wandered into chhindwara on a whim after hearing the street chatter about a hidden rooftop garden that smells like tea and old paper. i just checked and it's a crisp 68°F breeze there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. the whole place feels like a vinyl record stuck on a loop of monsoon drizzles and giggling goats.

someone told me that the old market square is haunted by the ghost of a 19th‑century tailor, but honestly i think it's just the wind through the vintage shop windows. if you get restless, the nearby towns of jabalpur and raipur are just a short drive away. here’s what i packed (and what i wish i’d left behind):

- thrifted band tee that’s seen more coffee spills than concerts
- sturdy canvas bag that survived three train rides and a sudden downpour
- a pocket‑size sketchbook (just in case the colors get too wild)

i’m still buzzing from the street art that pops up between the tea stalls-bright splashes that look like someone spilled paint on a map. the locals swear by the chai at Chai Corner (don’t ask me the exact address, it changes like the weather). check out these gems:

TripAdvisor - Chhindwara reviews
Yelp - local cafés
Community board updates

the alley behind the post office* is where the best impromptu jam sessions happen, and the scent of fresh jalebi drifts out at sunset. i heard that the best street food is only served on Thursdays, but you’ll have to wander to find out.

i’m still chasing that perfect shot of the sunrise over the old railway bridge-if you’re into that kinda light, you’ll love it. stay scrappy, keep the camera rolling, and always say hi to the vendor who’s been there since the ’80s. he’ll probably give you a free samosa if you ask nicely.