Call it Varanasi, Kashi or Banaras, this is one of the oldest cities in the world and carries with it cadences of history, heritage and a culture so rich in flavour that it leaves an indelible impression on anybody who visits. It’s an experience which is very hard to put down in words but I will try.
I travelled to Varanasi this July with my husband and another couple. After a 48-hour-long train journey, we finally reached Mughalsarai. The four of us stuffed our luggage into an auto and squeezed ourselves in to reach the old city of Banaras.
We were pleasantly entertained by our auto driver’s rendition of a conversation between Krishna and Arjuna from the Mahabharata while he drove his auto like a race driver, not minding the terribly bumpy roads. Cabs and autos are not allowed inside the old town of Banaras, so you can either take a rickshaw or walk to your destination. We girls thought it best to take a rickshaw because of all the luggage we had while the guys walked around to soak in the sights and sounds. Weathered buildings, ancient temples, narrow roads and the surroundings instantly give away the fact that this is a place like no other.
Once we reached the ghat, the rickshaw could not go any further as the streets were too small and narrow for a rickshaw.We made our way to the guest-house via tiny, cramped up lanes through a melee of bikes, cows and children.The lanes were flanked by old curiosity shops selling food, handicrafts, pooja items and a lot more. We were amazed at how much can fit in such tiny little spaces!
We refreshed ourselves at the guest-house but the journey began in earnest only when I took a dip in the holy waters of the Ganga. Later in the evening, we saw the aarti at the Dashashwamedh Ghat which completely lived up to its hype.
You can either choose to sit on the steps by the ghat or sit in a boat to watch the aarti up front.
As it got darker and closer to the time of the aarti, it seemed like the whole of Banaras had gathered there. The lights came on with divine music in the background and suddenly the noisy crowd went quiet as the aarti began. The grandeur of this 30-minute ritual, the devotional songs and the feeling of celebration evoked powerful emotions that left us transformed in a strange way.
We began the next day by attending the first aarti of the day at the Kashi Vishwanath temple. It starts at 3 am when the early morning rituals are performed to ‘wake-up’ Shiva. The residing deity is woken up with pancha amrutha snana or five nectars of life (water, milk, curd, honey and ghee).
The aarti is a moving experience though a tad unearthly given the hour. After the aarti, we even managed to catch the sunrise from the terrace of the guest house.
Varanasi in a way is a metaphor of life itself. It is this and that, it is full of ebb and flow, zenith of joy and the darkest hollows of grief. As we approached Manikarnika Ghat, we saw dead bodies being carried towards their final destination.
The burning pyres, the ashes that are then released in the waters, the idea of salvation, the finality of the last rites clearly show the transience of life.
It suddenly becomes so clear that amassing wealth and chasing fame and power are meaningless when it is all going to end like this.
The beauty of Banaras is that the naked visuals of death that shake the tourists so are accepted by the locals as a part of life.
About 20 kms away from Banaras is Sarnath, the humble abode of Buddha. The highlights are a series of Buddha temples built in architectural styles that carry Japanese, Chinese and Tibetan influences.
You get to see among other things, a statue of Buddha giving a sermon to his first five disciples under the Bodhi tree surrounded by prayer wheels.
Another place we visited was the Banaras Hindu University built across 300 lush, green acres.
The Birla Mandir at the heart of the campus is again an architectural marvel.
If you are interested in quaint architecture, visit the Ramnagar Fort on the eastern bank of river Ganga and atleast some of the 800-odd temples that are scattered across Banaras.
What makes Banaras truly unique however is it human quotient. Even in the stark poverty you see all around, you see resilience and fortitude and good humour and kids and men and women who offer to do little chores for as little as `10.
From shopkeepers near temples who insist on taking care of your footwear and then sell you pooja items to priests willing to officiate with God on your behalf for a generous tip to sadhus ready to pose for a picture for a fee to a diya vendor who ‘lets’ you sit on the ghat, Banaras is a lesson in resourceful survival. And in the acceptance of end, whenever it comes.