Varanasi - Day 2

The morning found us with chills in our feet and a lovely Benarasi breakfast of Kachori, Channa and Jalebi. Eating sweets at 8:30 am was a slightly new experience, but the Jalebis were just so good that  most of us ate 2-3 of them before leaving. As all 28 of us congregated at the guest house entrance, we began looking for Auto Rickshaws that would take us to the main gate of the campus. That was when, awake and well-fed, we all began to grasp the sheer size of BHU. The 15 minute journey took us to Lanka Gate, the massive structure that demarcates the entrance to the campus. 

One step inside the gate is the green, beautiful campus with its wide roads and open space. Yet, one step outside the campus, is a very different kind of beauty. The first thing that hit me was the noise. Car horns and cycle horns mingle with the mooing of cows, the screeching of birds. Autos moving around haphazardly let out their bleating noises as they pass a hair's breadth away from the pedestrians, whose angry shouted responses flow in to join the morphed medley that is Benaras. 

Walking through the city, our senses began to slowly work towards calming themselves down. the size of the crowds, the traffic moving in every possible direction, the colours, the signboards. There was simply too much to look at, too much to take in! 10 minutes ahead, we found a row of ancient looking cycle rickshaws parked near a few autos and their drivers. As we struck up conversation with them, our ears and minds slowly adjusted to the absolutely eloquent Hindi being spoken through paan stained teeth. Opposite the road was a tiny studio where a man would take a photograph of you with his pinhole camera and give you a passport size print for Rs. 40, and so of course we spent almost 30 minutes there. When we finally arrived at the entrance to the ghats, excitement unfurled within me as I realised the Ganga would soon be visible.

Ancient Cycle Rickshaw (Paromita Bathija, 2014)

My first acquaintance with the Ganges was one of extreme serenity. The river, from where I stood, looked beautifully peaceful and beautifully powerful. It's strange how these moments take shape. Interaction with something of massive size or grandeur often leaves one questioning their own significance. Look at the Ganga, flowing for  thousands years, holding a place in the heart of millions. And then me; who am I and where do I belong in this world? The moment left me humbled. As we walked through Assi Ghat and a few others, we arrived at Tulsi Ghat. Named so because it was home to the poet Tulsidas, the ghat leads to his home. An ancient white structure that is now a temple, the house holds an aura of intrigue. Walking through its narrow corridors and rooms, I could almost feel the presence of the great poet, watching me watch him. 

As we continued our walk down the ghats, we arrived at Harishchandra Ghat. It is one of Kashi's 2 cremation ghats.What first struck me was how easily the character of that ghats changed. Just before we entered Harishchandra, everything was awe-inspiring and peaceful. But here, 6-7 cremations were in process just as we stood there. Although we were all struck by the horror of reality, we began to realise that the people around us seemed oblivious. There were family members in white who sat and watched with morose expressions. Yet, the others; the locals just continues to exist as though they weren't affected at all. As though death, the only certainty in all of our lives, was just a part of theirs. And of course. Death is eventual and inevitable. In society and the places we all come from, people shy away from the reality of death. Yet here, in Kashi, death is accepted to be as much of a part of our lives as life. As we stood there dumb-founded, a young boy in a purple shirt that stood out amongst the white, red and smoke; ran in-between the pyres while trying to fly his kite. The sight left me absolutely lost. The emotions and realisations that affected me in that moment cannot be articulated. Of course, having grown up here, he has seen cremations since he was a baby. Yet, it was impossible for me to understand how he could continue to enjoy the trivial joys of life whilst surrounded by death. It was a sight that will stay with me forever. 

We stopped for lunch at a local restaurant that went from empty to completely packed when we entered. Hotel Bhagya Shree served us some lovely Roti with Paneer Sabji and Dal. Once we were stuffed, we crossed the packed road to the Paan Walla opposite. My first experience with Benarasi paan was, unlike people might expect, terrible! Although the others seemed to have loved it, I found it absolutely terrible. Soon, we headed off to the ghats and walked up till Manikarnika, the second cremation ghat. There, things worked at a much larger scale, with almost 12-14 cremations occuring simultaneously. 

As it started to get dark, we headed towards Vishwanath Gali, and walking through those narrow crowded lanes in the darkness was another side of Kashi. Once we got into our soon to be habitual 5 autos and headed to the guesthouse for another great meal, we all huddled up in the cold to discuss the day and each of us shared a story about our lives. I realised the next 7 days were going to be the experience of a lifetime. And I couldn't wait for each minute.