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The temple bell rang. A pujari emerged with a diya (lamp). For ten minutes, phones were down, gossip stopped, and a collective calm fell. The aarti was a sensory explosion: the scent of camphor, the ringing of bells, the flashes of fire in the twilight. For a software engineer like Meera, it was an analog reset button for the soul. By 1 PM, the sun was brutal
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