Banur where fields grow stories

Banur isn’t just the place where I come from, it’s part of my identity. A small town, yes, but it has a soul that can easily tower over any big city. The heart of my town Banur, which is near Mohali, aptly beats in the ancient temple of Mai Banno, where faith has weathered centuries, and every diya lit here feels like a prayer whispered across time.

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I’ve seen old women walk barefoot to her shrine, heads bowed, eyes filled with quiet strength. As a child, I didn’t understand their devotion; now I carry it deep within me.

The fields around here don’t just grow crops; they grow stories. The air smells of dust, ghee, and legends. Banur has taught me humility, not through sermons, but through silences: in the stillness of a summer afternoon, in the way strangers still offer you water, and above all the belief that Mai Banno watches over all her children like a mother who never stops waiting.

— Anurag Pandit, Banur