Vrindavan....
A place where painted sadhus fancy themselves to be Sri Krishna....the ultimate flirt.....and the entire female population to be their 'Gopinis'. A place where you are offered bhang as frequently and as unhesitantly as if it were tea. A place where grass probably means something that was not procured from a lawn. A place filled with lights and colours and people as 'rangeela' as the deity they worship.A place of 'Radhe Radhe' and multiple names of Gods double up as greetings and exclamations. A place of excesses of every kind, a place where the earth wears shoes of sand to prevent you feet from soiling it! A place with monkeys enough to give you a clue about where the words 'Vanar Sena' probably had their origin. Of the ultimate bondage of commitment and the freedom to walk the streets in a loin cloth and shout out loud without being promptly stuffed into an asylum. A place of music, and ras leela and of plenty, of milk and ghee, of makkhan malai. A place where the Gods have a palate to give any epicure a run for his money. Of wide eyed devotion, beliefs and superstitions, miracles,mockery, subterfuge.... of sincerity. Of narrow lanes and broad grins, of small budgets and big appetites, of insecurity and refuge, of incredulity .....of faith. A place of minimalist luxury, of rich poverty, of willing compulsions. The place is a paradox, an irony, an enigma. The place is 'Dev Sthan'-A place of the Gods.