Varanasi - Day 5

I walked out the door just as the first few rays of light poured into the open courtyard, filling it with the light of dawn. About 35 minutes later, few others arrived and we headed off for a morning 'Architectural Study' walk through the BHU campus. Each building has so much character. Every structure has elements of Greek, Mughal, Jain and Hindu architecture. The things to see are endless, as are the number of things one can decipher from each structure. We concluded our 2 hour walk with some lovely steaming hot Benarasi Chai, complete with cinnamon. We returned to a lavish breakfast of Chole Bature and more Chai.

Later we headed to the Visual Arts department in BHU, to observe our Benarasi counterparts. The sculpture department had lots to offer, as we got to watch the students at work and the exhibits themselves. We headed back to the guesthouse after stopping for some exquisite orange juice on the way, with the promise of a lazy afternoon.

BHU Fine Arts Department, exhibit. (Paromita Bathija, 2014)

Later that evening, we headed for the ghats to attend the annual Dev Deepawali festival, that attracts lakhs of visitors from across the globe. There are an endless number of warnings about the pick pocketers at the festival, so all we took with us just a phone and some money - no bags, no cameras. Before we even entered the ghats we realised we'd underestimated the crowds. Once we actually reached the ghats, we seriously considered turning around. There were easily 10-15 lakh people present. A dance performance was put up at Assi ghat by a few volunteers, and hundreds of people had gathered to watch. The view of the ghats themselves, was mesmerising. Millions of diyas were lined up on the steps, waiting to be lit. People had arrived dressed in their ethnic best, and I could taste the festivity in the air. Two people in our group seemed to have reacted badly to breakfast, and began throwing up just as we arrived. As the decision was made that they would stay back at Assi ghat with a third companion, everyone felt a twinge of pity for the people who wouldn't get to experience it. 

Assi ghat hadn't begun lighting their diyas when we arrived, but even unlit, they lit up the night sky. Each ghat seemed to be competing, and each ghat seemed to have outdone itself in festivity and beauty. There were millions of tiny flames, personifying the name of their city - Benaras, the City of Light. Tonight, it was easy to comprehend how it earned the title. The goldish-orange aura that each diya radiated, combined to form millions of lights, millions of reflections. Even the endless shoving crowds couldn't take away the beauty of the ghats that night. The full moon reflected in a flawless trail down the river, broken only by the floating candles, lighting up the silvery reflection with the orange of festivity. There were an endless number of boats, filled with an endless number of wonderstruck tourists. The boats are apparently booked almost a year in advance, for the festival. It reflects how the festival is not only religiously auspicious to the locals, but also economically. The day their gods return home is the day their income flows home, emphasizing the importance of festivity in their lives. And the link between culture and livelihood is underlined by the beauty of the system. 

The crowd was so large, we were barely even walking. Just being swept along by the masses as we were swept off our feet by the sight. Each ghat had different ways of arranging the lights, different kinds of diyas. One in particular hadn't even lit oil soaked wicks; it had lit up chunks of coal in clay pots, which gave off enough heat to make our eyes water. We passed massive structures that had come up overnight, of gateways and elephants and a giant statue of Ravan, decked in beautifully evil colours. The crowds sapped our energy before the oil in the diyas ran out, and we were swamped before we even arrived at Dasashwamedha ghat. Once we stopped for some extremely good channa chat and regained some energy, we began to head back.

For some reason, the crowds seemed far more brutal during the return. An unfortunate number of instances of groping drew our attention away from the festival. The crowds were so large and were behaving so badly, it became nearly impossible to stay still and take in the beauty that surrounded us. It's funny how life works, like offering a slab of chocolate to someone only to snatch it away when it's inches away from them. 

As we slowly began to comprehend the sheer size of the crowd on the ghats, it hit us. The Ganga brings in a sense of equality to their society in a way no laws or measures can. In the depths of the city, life is nothing but cruel reality. Yet, on the banks of the sacred river, everyone was equal. It broke down economic boundaries and allowed people to just be. None of the morning bathers would harass women, none of the richer sections would look down on the poor. On the ghats, in contact with the water from the sacred river, everyone was equal. Everyone was blessed. The Dev Deepawali festival involved millions of Diyas. People from all possible backgrounds united to light these up. 

The festival played its role beautifully in Benaras. It lit up the city and the hearts of its dwellers. It gave people from across the globe a reason to fly down and witness the once in a lifetime experience of watching the river Ganga lit up by millions of lights. So, although crowded as ever and filled with bad experiences as well as good, the City of Lights truly wowed us tonight.