It’s a little past six on a crisp October morning. The vegetable sellers and worshippers have already assumed their positions at Taumadhi Square, in front of the Kashinath and Bhairav temples. Just around the corner, two sickly peepul trees are being smothered in attention: touched, stroked, smeared with powders, smoked with incense, with sticky grains of rice stubbornly clinging to their yellowish leaves. The individual rocks and statues on squares and in the side streets, on thresholds