Member-only story
Travelogue, Varanasi, Day 2
from the coffee journal
21–01–2024
Why are places contagious? Why are we drawn to those places where we are either treated right or not acknowledged at all?
I’ve always tried to buy the respect people give me as greetings, good wishes, or good luck. There’s something about my perspective on this world that makes everything about it a transaction, or rather, a transaction itself. Agreements, terms, and deliverables — most of my mind is lost in the proper draft.
The good and bad thing about the hippie cities of India is that we can find a lot of hidden gems scattered around these towns, such as backpacker’s cafes or bakeries. This is the goodie-good part. The amazing food, the timeless setting, and the constant inflow of customers from all parts of the globe. From somewhere or another, someone’s coming over to unpack stories. The only hiccup, however, is that most of these places are not very friendly or welcoming for the local Indian weary traveller. They are not that warm for them, rather unresponsive to their arrivals. If I mention what might make them dislike Indian customers unlike their foreign counterparts, I’d be passing judgment on more than one group of people.
I think a simple observation should do.
