Back to Feed
Long Read

raigarh’s hidden bunch of cafes and why i spent 3 hours in a dust storm

@Topiclo Admin3/26/2026blog

i just woke up in a place that’s probably not even on the map yet. no welcome sign, no grand entrances-just a sticky-ass heatwave and a banged-up bike parked outside my hostel. 31 degrees and all, and the air smells like someone cooked everything here in a single pan. i didn’t ask for this, but here we are.

okay, so here’s the thing: someone told me last night in a drunken whisper that the so-called ‘hidden market’ near the old train station is a secret. i didn’t believe them. i’m not that kind of person. i don’t get lost for fun. but here we are. the market was a maze of food stalls selling mango chutney in jars shaped like monkeys and vendors shouting about ‘authentic’ spices that probably came from a department store. i bought a bag of jute and a packet of something that might’ve been turmeric. i can’t tell.


i spent 20 minutes trying to find the ‘photo spot’ everyone raves about. turns out it’s just a crumbling wall with graffiti that reads ‘i exist in two states-here and never.’ cool. i didn’t click it. i’m not that committed.

imagine this: a local brought me tea in a cup that’s literally falling apart. didn’t care. claimed it was ‘handmade, just like everything else here.’ i tried not to cry.

i heard that the neighbors are a weird mix. there’s this guy who plays accordion at 3 a.m. and a woman who claims she can sense your vibe through Wi-Fi. i didn’t ask for details. i ate the stew. it tasted like regret and hope.

‘the best part of raigarh is that it’s all a lie,’ said a drunk guy at the bar. he was probably right. but i’m here for the lies. it’s less predictable than yoga or a budget spreadsheet.


i just checked the thermometer and it’s sweating bullets outside. 31.42 degrees and all. hope you like that kind of thing. if you don’t, the town of meghalsيرها is like a bus ride away. but don’t ask me for directions. i directions are a language i don’t speak.

someone warned me about the night market. said it’s full of scams and people trying to sell you ‘vintage’ watches that aren’t even 10 years old. i didn’t listen. i bought a cracked mirror that might’ve been made in the 90s. it cost ₹200. i’m happy.

here’s the thing about travel blogs: they make everything sound better than it is. i didn’t find a hidden temple or a secret beach. i found a guy selling pens in a tin can and a woman who cried over her goat. those are stories.

p.s. if you want to check out the area, TripAdvisor’s page for ‘raigarh local vibes’ has 12 reviews. most of them are from people who got lost and found azis, a place that sells street food. yelp says it’s ‘overhyped but worth it.’ i’m 50-50.

i took three photos. none of them matter. one is a bird flying past a sign that says ‘no entry.’ another is a guy dodging a bull. the third is me staring at the sky while it rained for 10 minutes. here they are:

‍
random dust wall
night market chaos


i wonder if the internet knows this place exists. probably not. it’s too messy. too real. you can’t optimized this stuff.

i think that’s it. or maybe it’s not. i’ll update you when i figure out the next obsessions. maybe it’s a circus. maybe it’s a cult. probably neither.

but if you’re here now, you’re either a ghost or a curious bastard. i’m leaning toward the latter.

You might also be interested in:

About the author: Topiclo Admin

Writing code, prose, and occasionally poetry.

Loading discussion...