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✍️ Written by Saket Suman Thousands of young Indians marched from Jantar Mantar toward Parliament in monsoon rain and were met with tear gas, lathi charges, internet shutdowns, and mass detentions. Abhijeet Dipke, the founder of the Cockroach Janta Party, was detained. Sonam Wangchuk, on the twenty-second day of a hunger strike that had already cost him at least 8.5 kilograms, wrote a handwritten note from his hospital bed requesting temporary release to join the march. The request was not granted. Image Via: @Cockroachisback on X The Education Minister did not resign. The Monsoon Session opened on schedule. The government held.  And yet something has happened today in Delhi that cannot be managed away with a press briefing. How We Got Here What began on May 15 as a Supreme Court judge's offhand comparison of unemployed youth to "cockroaches" became, within six weeks, one of the most significant youth mobilisations in India since the...

✍️ Written by Saket Suman There is a moment on the Kedarnath trail when the body understands something that the mind has been resisting. The trail does not care how much you have read about this place. The altitude does not make exceptions for preparation. The shrine ahead is where it has always been, and you are where you are, and the distance between the two is exactly what it is, and the only way to close it is to keep walking. I have been thinking about that moment for the length of this series, which is to say for the length of the journey that the series is the record of. Sixteen shrines. Several thousand kilometres. Trains and buses and shared sumos and ferries and treks and one ropeway and one Pamban bridge railway crossing at sea level above the Palk Strait that I will not be forgetting for a long time. The Bharat Darshan series began as an act of journalism and became, somewhere between the Nallamala forest and the Gangotri glacier, som...

These are two different shrines in two different corners of the subcontinent and they belong in the same piece because they are asking the same question from opposite positions. At Dwarka, Krishna left. He built his capital on the Saurashtra coast, ruled for a hundred years, watched the sea take it back street by street after his departure, and is no longer here. The Dwarkadhish temple marks the place where he was. The Archaeological Survey of India has been diving in the waters off the coast since the 1980s and has found structures at five to twelve metres depth — stone walls, pillars, pottery, the remnants of something that was once above the waterline. What exactly those structures are and how old and what they prove remains contested between the archaeologist and the tradition in the specific way that questions about mythological sites are always contested, which is to say without resolution and without end. The sea, meanwhile, continues to reclaim the coast. At Puri, Jagannath do...

The twelfth Jyotirlinga is in a village called Verul in the Marathwada region of Maharashtra, one kilometre from the Ellora Caves. This proximity is not incidental. Both — the shrine and the cave temples — are expressions of the same theological imagination working in different materials at the same location in approximately the same century. The Kailasa Temple at Ellora, Cave 16, is a representation of Shiva's mountain carved top-down from a single basalt hill over an estimated hundred years. The Grishneshwar Jyotirlinga is one kilometre away. The same god, the same landscape, the same century — the ambition of one expressed in stone and the presence of the other in a small red temple in a village. The Kailasa Temple is the largest monolithic rock-cut structure on earth. This is not hyperbole. The builders removed the rock that was not the temple. The temple that remains is Kailash — Shiva's mountain — rendered at scale in basalt by human hands over a century of sustained lab...

The Gangotri glacier has retreated 22 kilometres in the last 200 years. The rate of retreat is accelerating. Scientists monitoring it describe the current rate with the specific careful language of people who are certain about the measurement and uncertain about what to do with the certainty. The glacier that Bhagirath performed thousands of years of tapasya to bring the celestial Ganga down to — the glacier whose melt becomes the Bhagirathi, which meets the Alaknanda at Devprayag and becomes the Ganga — is smaller than it was when my father was born and will be smaller when my children are my age and smaller still thereafter until the point at which the downstream implications of that reduction become impossible to absorb. I am saying this plainly because the piece should say it plainly. The Gangotri glacier is sacred and it is retreating and both things are true simultaneously and the second does not diminish the first and the first does not excuse the ignoring of the second. The sh...

The train crosses the Pamban bridge at sea level, above open water, with the Palk Strait visible on both sides, Sri Lanka theoretically visible to the southeast on a clear day, and the bridge itself doing what it was designed to do in 1914 which is carry you across the sea to an island that the subcontinent almost touches but does not quite. Ten minutes above the water. The bridge is one of India's oldest sea bridges and the crossing is among the more vertiginous experiences available on the standard railway network. Take the train. Not the bus. The bus crosses the road bridge and misses this. I arrived at Rameswaram at night, secured a room near the temple, set the alarm for 4 AM, and started at 4:30. The Spatika Linga darshan — the original sand Shivalinga made by Sita from the beach at this shore, installed by Rama, the presiding Jyotirlinga — is available for one hour each morning, from 5 to 6 AM, and requires advance booking through the temple website. I had booked it. Missin...