काशी Calling.
The announcement of the trip came as quite a disappointment
to me. Coming from the large bustling city of Bombay, I was looking forward to
an experience of different sorts. Life
has its ways though, and if I had five chances to change it, I wouldn't. Little
did I know that Kashi, a place I felt I would never be able to connect with,
would be a place I was sure of visiting again, a place where a little part of
me would always belong.
I didn't expect too much of the place. Not in the sense of ‘great
expectations’, but expectations of any sort. With the disappointment of not
getting the course I wanted, the excitement and expectations were kept at bay,
until the last few days before we left for Varanasi.
I have always been
interested in religion and faith. Growing up in a family with agnostic parents,
being faithful by the age of nine and then deciding to follow a certain
religion by the age of twelve, I have always been the kind that enjoyed
learning and discovering new faiths and religion. I’d call myself spiritual
now. Still dwindling on the much controversial topic of religion, I was looking
forward to learning about new religions, especially Hinduism, one that I’ve
been really fascinated with, through time immemorial. I definitely knew I was
supposed to consider myself as more than lucky. It was after all the land of
the most holy Ganga I was visiting, a melting pot. A land where life and death
comes together.
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