Another cold, early morning greeted us as we set off for Sarnath after some simple yet delicious bread and butter. Sarnath - a city that is home to both Buddhism and Jainism. I'll admit I was slightly disappointed when we first reached, since I had envisioned a huge spacious green city, the place where lord Buddha gave his first sermon. Yet what we saw looked, well, normal. Regular roads and cars and a serious lack of meditative aura.
Of course, that was just the first 5 seconds. Once we began walking towards our unknown destination, the city began to showcase what it had to offer. The greenery soon turned up, as did the peaceful aura. There are an endless number of places to visit in Sarnath, and the fact remains that I just couldn't connect to the place in the limited time we were there for. Yes, the monasteries were beautiful and the place radiated serenity. Somehow though, the place didn't impact me while I was there. When we left and headed back, it hit me. The place where Lord Buddha gave his first sermon. The birthplace of the eleventh Thirthankarna of Jainism. Sarnath, being such a small town in Uttar Pradesh, is home to two religons of the world.
I tried to initiate conversation with our auto driver on our way back, and of course it was easy. The people of Varanasi take in in stride to remind us of the depths of their nature. As he spoke of the river, the same reverence crept into his voice. I asked him why he chose to continue living in Varanasi when he had the opportunity to leave, and he was clear. There are other cities, and yes they are beautiful. Yet none of them are Varanasi. Varanasi with its chai and its paan and its people. This city holds such importance in the hearts of those residing in it, it almost surely evokes jealousy amongst the other cities that grace our maps. Because the love that the people here have for their city is beyond comprehension. The place the river holds in their hearts is beyond compare. It explains why no resident of Varanasi will be caught refering to the river without the prefix of Maa. Maa Ganga. Ganga Maa. The mother to all those who live by her side. It is as the auto driver so articulately phrased,
The river flows through every home, every heart. The city runs in the very veins of its inhabitants. It is in their soul and shapes their personality. The city makes them who they are, as does the Ganga.
With one last evening spent on the ghats, amongst the yellow lights on the banks; we all began to feel as though time had passed too soon. Eight days in this beautiful city had gone by in minutes, and now suddenly there was too much left to see and too little time.
It was on that last evening that we went from Travellers to Tourists, and Tourists to The People of The City. On that last evening we felt a fragment of the attachment that the people of Kashi feel towards their city. As the entire group spent half an hour arguing about where to go for dinner, I found myself wondering. Have I changed as a person? People say Varanasi is the kind of place that changes who you are. And I expected this trip to be a life changing experience. Yet, I feared I hadn't. I had this strange hesitation within me, as though perhaps I didn't do the city justice. I didn't make enough of an effort to soak it all in before it left me. And that was why I felt the same. Maybe.
Also, on that last night as we all graced the city with our mournful goodbyes, an extremely terrible cold decided to grace me with its presence. And so, I fell ill on our last evening. I slept through dinner and my eyes watered through the journey home. What a lovely conclusion to a genuinely lovely week.
Of course, that was just the first 5 seconds. Once we began walking towards our unknown destination, the city began to showcase what it had to offer. The greenery soon turned up, as did the peaceful aura. There are an endless number of places to visit in Sarnath, and the fact remains that I just couldn't connect to the place in the limited time we were there for. Yes, the monasteries were beautiful and the place radiated serenity. Somehow though, the place didn't impact me while I was there. When we left and headed back, it hit me. The place where Lord Buddha gave his first sermon. The birthplace of the eleventh Thirthankarna of Jainism. Sarnath, being such a small town in Uttar Pradesh, is home to two religons of the world.
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| (Paromita Bathija, 2014) |
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| (Paromita Bathija, 2014) |
I tried to initiate conversation with our auto driver on our way back, and of course it was easy. The people of Varanasi take in in stride to remind us of the depths of their nature. As he spoke of the river, the same reverence crept into his voice. I asked him why he chose to continue living in Varanasi when he had the opportunity to leave, and he was clear. There are other cities, and yes they are beautiful. Yet none of them are Varanasi. Varanasi with its chai and its paan and its people. This city holds such importance in the hearts of those residing in it, it almost surely evokes jealousy amongst the other cities that grace our maps. Because the love that the people here have for their city is beyond comprehension. The place the river holds in their hearts is beyond compare. It explains why no resident of Varanasi will be caught refering to the river without the prefix of Maa. Maa Ganga. Ganga Maa. The mother to all those who live by her side. It is as the auto driver so articulately phrased,
'यहाँ तोह गंगा मां घर घर और दिल दिल मे बहती है।'
The river flows through every home, every heart. The city runs in the very veins of its inhabitants. It is in their soul and shapes their personality. The city makes them who they are, as does the Ganga.
With one last evening spent on the ghats, amongst the yellow lights on the banks; we all began to feel as though time had passed too soon. Eight days in this beautiful city had gone by in minutes, and now suddenly there was too much left to see and too little time.
It was on that last evening that we went from Travellers to Tourists, and Tourists to The People of The City. On that last evening we felt a fragment of the attachment that the people of Kashi feel towards their city. As the entire group spent half an hour arguing about where to go for dinner, I found myself wondering. Have I changed as a person? People say Varanasi is the kind of place that changes who you are. And I expected this trip to be a life changing experience. Yet, I feared I hadn't. I had this strange hesitation within me, as though perhaps I didn't do the city justice. I didn't make enough of an effort to soak it all in before it left me. And that was why I felt the same. Maybe.
Also, on that last night as we all graced the city with our mournful goodbyes, an extremely terrible cold decided to grace me with its presence. And so, I fell ill on our last evening. I slept through dinner and my eyes watered through the journey home. What a lovely conclusion to a genuinely lovely week.
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