Our car had left the lush, rolling landscape of Mhow and its surroundings, and was inching closer to our destination—Maheshwar. We had heard and read a lot about this temple town’s quaint, untouched character, and its scenic ghats. And so, as soon as the vehicle entered its winding gullies, our eyes were glued to see if all of these claims were true. Lined by either single or double-storeyed structures, some over a century old, we noticed that it was relatively early [11 am!] in the day for this town to open up. Shutters of kiranas and hardware shops were being lazily rolled up; jewellery store owners were dusting the gaddis and takias of their sparse interiors, for their customers who, we learnt later, would stroll only by evening. Shops selling the famed Maheshwari weaves were in no rush to woo passers-by. A sleepwalking rooster wasn’t sure if it should cross the road or not, and didn’t end up as road kill! We were watching a slow-motion reel, minus the special effects.

We wondered if the town would come to life by the weekend because up until then there were no crowds at its chowks or at the marketplace. En route to the Narmada ghats that Friday evening, we stopped by the Ahilyabai Devi Ram Mandir that shares a boundary with the Ahilya Fort. It was a celebration of architecture, masonry and detailed stone sculpting, with inspiring jaali-work. Apart from the squeaky clean environs—we spotted sweepers across this route diligently doing their job—the space was devoid of pesky vendors peddling goods of religious significance, or making false claims of miraculous souvenirs. The pleasant surprises continued at the spotless ghats. No cotton candy sellers, juicewallahs, or noisy hawkers selling snacks; no plastic litter or overflowing bins; some bumper cars to entertain kids were the lone eyesore, but we are nitpicking. A few cows and strays were minding their business as if on autopilot. The faint, soothing sounds of temple bells from a distance, and the odd splash made by adventurous bathers who dared to swim in the rapidly flowing, rain-fed Narmada was our background score. A security guard was doing his job by the entrance to the ghat, while the small groups of young weekend revellers were too busy taking selfies, or egging boatwallahs to cruise them down the Narmada on what seemed like a nervy ride.