On unsuccessfully trying to leave: Is Rishikesh a black hole or has Ma Ganga blessed me?
April 23rd 2008 I swear that Rishikesh's alter ego is an octopus. It must be. Every time I try to leave, it wraps its sticky long tentacles around my restless soul and pulls me back into its comforting, slightly claustrophobic embrace. It is now the end of April, temperatures have soared up to 42 degrees Celsius (and my long-suffering friends know that I already reach for a fan and cry for ice packs when i
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