Around every corner, in every alley, an image of Saraswasti has been set up in her own little tent, and offerings made. I thought ‘the day’ was yesterday and that today they’d all be taken down, but no, Saraswasti is still omnipresent in Varanasi. I snapped a few versions of her image from those dotted around my neighbourhood, but there must be hundreds more in other parts of the city.
The big downside (sadly there always is one) is that the kids use her as an excuse to set up large amplifiers and blast out various kinds of ghastly electronic thudding, including a hybrid Bollywood-Techno mishmash that disturbs the very core of my fragile being. So I’m living in a pair of ear plugs. Please note, if you ever come to India don’t forget to pack ear plugs. 
Oiling a Rusty Mind 
Gorgeous! I feel like she stepped right out of the ’60s. 🙂
imagine seeing these beautiful images in the streets of London – or Luton – or wherever. I wish! 🙂