The air in Varanasi was thick with the scent of marigolds, camphor, and the distant, earthy sweetness of boiling chai . For twenty-three-year-old Kavya, this was the only air she had ever known. Her family’s haveli , a sprawling, crumbling fortress of sandstone and secrets, overlooked the Ganges. Every morning, she woke to the sound of temple bells and the sight of her grandmother, Amma, tracing the same rangoli pattern she’d drawn for sixty years at the threshold.
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from a mosque often mingles with the whistling of a pressure cooker. Spirituality : Many families start the day with a small prayer ( ) or lighting an oil lamp ( ) at a home shrine.