Varanasi
Walking from the North of the ancient city. Walking from the South of the ancient city. Life.
Pilgrims, Vendors, Pavement Dwellers, Cows, Dogs, Birds, Children, Parents, Men, Ladies.
And then in the middle - side by side with life - inevitable, unavoidable and true - The Burning Ghat. Death.
Life running along side Death. How brief is the transition.
Varanasi - just the sound of it was so ‘Indian’ - ancient, sacred, spiritual, and one of the oldest continually inhabited cities in the world, we had long wanted to come, and its relative proximity to Kolkata meant it had won a place in our 2024 India Footsteps Tour! The River Ganges, being such a sacred river for Hindus runs through Varanasi, and is an important place of worship for the Hindu pilgrims who come from near and far to bathe in it’s waters, and partake in holy rituals in the city’s many temples, or on the ghats (steps) leading down to the river bank. The ancient city has three names - Varanasi, Benares and Kashi. ‘Varanasi’ comes from the fact that the city lies between two rivers - the Varuna and the Assi - hence Varanasi. Kashi, is the most ancient name and is derived from the Sanskrit word ‘shining’ and thus the city is sometimes referred to as ‘The City of Light’. Benares was the name given to the city during the British time.
We saw a city ‘alive with life’ playing along side the ‘starkness of death’ at the Burning Ghat.
Benares is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together. Mark Twain
If you want to read about our experiences in Varanasi, you can find my story in www.mywildsimplelife.com.
Safe to say - it left an impact.
GETTING THERE
On arrival in Varanasi I was surprised. Now, we were still in the airport. However, this was a modern airport , spectacularly clean, the best toilets I had been to in an airport. (Toilet status is a strange thing in India - you may be in awe at the ‘front of house beatification, but behind house facilities can be an alarming experience). I somehow had imagined that Varanasi airport, Varanasi being this ancient city, would be an old style, dusty, crumbling airport, with a lot of dull brown, a trundling, creaky old baggage belt, and zero facilities. Stepping outside of the airport one could think to be in Palma or any other slick and shiny European city. This place was quite beautiful with flowerbeds and palm trees. And the drive from the airport was unexpected. Lovely clean roads, fringed with flowers and plants, roads at this part not too chaotic - something that would change as we got into the heart of the city, and this city has a wildly beating heart!
I felt excited arriving here but realised that I needed to change my mind set from our Calcutta City experience. It was exciting and fresh to be somewhere new. We had to cancel our original accommodation as we had changed plans and moved our trip forward for a week. Therefore our preferred place to live - an old-fashioned Haveli was no longer available. Having spent too many hours on Airbnb, booking.com and a myriad of homestay pages, I could not find anything that met our requirements and in the end settled for what I expected would be a somewhat bland and ordinary hotel. As long as it is basic and clean I will be satisfied. Turns out was the nearest to feeling like ‘backpackers’ that we encountered.
The drive was about an hour from the airport to our accommodation and we were already thinking about what to eat that night. Some things never change, and food is always a delightful highlight of our day, wherever we are. In India, there are so many scrumptious edibles! Neither of us had researched any eating places whatsoever, so we have no clue where we are going to go. I suddenly really feel in the mood for tandoori chicken after a good friend back in Scotland had messaged that she was making butter chicken that night and was in the process of making the marinade for the chicken. I’m sure that we will be able to get that - but the main delight in Varanasi is ‘Chaat’. Chat is small, spicy snacks, bite size delights with aloo as the main act, and served in little street vendors and cafes throughout. We then. Realise that although we can get non veg, this sacred city is more aligned to vegetarian!
During our flight check-in, a gentleman from Lucknow told us to cut short our time in Varanasi and head for a couple of days to Lucknow - that is two people who have told us to head to Lucknow. Being ‘just us’ we are free to adjust our plan as we wish - let’s see if Varanasi will keep us near or if the pull of another city will win us over.
The hotel was as I expected - basic, but clean and a short walk from the famous Ghats or steps which lead down to that most revered of Rivers - Mother Ganga - the Ganges. Our room was small, you could not swing a cat but as we did not have a cat with us, we were not too bothered! Keen to explore, we leave the hotel to find the most famous Ghat, where at around 6.30pm each day, an Aarti takes place. Aarti is a Hindu ceremony, perfumed by priests , involving the offering of light (candles usually made with ghee / clarified butter), as veneration to the deities. As we approach the ghats we suddenly find ourself walking along with a tall young boy, with an angular face, and shoulder length black as black hair. ‘Come, come with me and see, come to the rooftops, the best roof terrace from where you can see the Aarti’. He did not mention a cost but insisted ‘it’s the best view’.
Why not we thought , we have nothing to lose.
THE SACRED AARTI
We had only been in the city for an hour and really did not know our way around so let’s take a chance and trust this lad . Finally, as we were half way up the deep staircase and in no danger of climbing back down, he asked for his money - 200 rupees each. We decided that £4 to get a Birds eye view of the spectacle was worth it. We climbed, and climbed and climbed, and then climbed some more and came out onto a terrace which was so high - we had a superb view of the goings on below.
We were completely overlooking the ghats, and with the Aarti ready to start very soon, we ordered some ginger tea to sip. I could not estimate how many people were seated, or standing below, but the thumb thumb thumb of their voices created accompaniment with the pure sound of the temple bells and the Hindu chanting. Seven platforms were set out on the ghat, each covered with the orange, saffron, rust of the marigold petals, and standing before each one were the young trainee pandits. As the daylight of Varanasi faded, the lights of the diyas and ornate brass lamps cast an ethereal glow. One could not help being caught up in the ambience and atmosphere - I am sure even the hardest cynic would put aside their beliefs and just embrace the spiritualism which pulsed through the night air.
Someone had recently said to me that if you come to Varanasi, it is such a special place that it ‘does something to you’. I hoped something would be done to me and despite the throng of noise and chaos snd crowds below I did actually feel ‘something’ - a sense of peace, a sense of calmness, or maybe a sense of humility and a realisation of how small we are, in the global landscape so vast, and in the sands of time we are very small, and here for such a brief time - the oldest city in India, one of the oldest cities in the world, I had such gratitude to be there.
THE INVISIBLE GUIDE AND NEAR KIDNAP
Next Day - The crowds the previous night were like nothing we had ever seen. I’ve spoken before about the orchestra of car horn, scooter horn, motorbike horns. Anything we have heard before is nothing compared with the Varanasi ensemble, in fact, it’s not an ensemble. It is a full scale orchestra, a military orchestra, it was exhilarating in its chaos and this morning as we left our hotel we were faced with much the same as the previous night. Sacred chaos!
We had booked a local walking tour guide and arrived at the designated meeting place at 10:30am. The meeting place was a cafe called ‘Namo’, situated down a tiny lane, a miracle that we found it. The café appear to be locked, but there was a note on the door, ‘ please ring the bell, we are open’. Except it was not open! We rang the bell and from the fourth floor above, the shouts of ‘Kaun hai?’. We shouted back we were there to meet our guide Gautam - ‘Who? Who is Gautam?’. “Ek minute’ the voice said, and presently a pleasant face man unlocked the door. They had never heard of this Tour company or Gautam, but were keen that we wait and have some tea. Never one to turn down a cuppa, I was happy to sit. And there we waited, and waited and waited. Our new hosts were enjoying the chat and in no rush for us to leave. When it became apparent that Gautam was either having a long lie, had got lost in these tiny lanes, or preferred to stay at home with some chaat, these wonderful people from Namo said they would give us a quick guide to some nearby temples before they had to open the cafe properly. The young owner of Namo told us to call him PK. So off we set with PK, leaving Gautam with our GBP 60 fee! PK walked and chatted us through the neighbourhood he knew since childhood - turning left, right, left again, telling us all these old houses belonged to his uncles and relatives. He showed us a number of small temples tucked away in tiny corners of tiny lanes. which I later came to appreciate more than I would realise. They were peaceful, quiet, with only two or three pilgrims praying inside. This was to be a complete contrast to the chaos of the bigger temples, where everyone, including the priests were into pushing and shoving, squealing to each other, outstretched hands constantly asking for money. I have to say that I noticed a change in comparison to previous visits- the focus on ensuring healthy donations seemed the key objective. I felt it not in keeping with the modern world where we seek more peace and solace amongst the materialistic and commercial mindset. I was almost ‘kidnapped’ by a priest, who, having tied on the sacred red thread to my wrist, tightly held on to the end of it and would not let go until a generous amount had been placed in the plate by Anil, who had wandered off - I had to holler after him to pay the ransom! More on this below.
Saying goodbye and leaving only thanks with PK (no money would be taken!), we then decided to be our own guides, and to relieve the tensions that sometimes comes in exploring a new place. It can be desperate and frantic as one feels it has been a failure if all key sights are not ticked off so we decided to have no agenda except to meander.
Kite Flying on The Ghats and a New Friend
We watched this young boy for quite some time. He ran nimbly up and down the stones steps of the ghats, sure footed and unperturbed by the mid day sun. I was glad of the rest as we sat down with our cool water bottles on the ghats. Wearing faded tight jeans and a black shirt which was ripped at the shoulder, we later came to know he was 13 years old, he did go to school, his father had a small sari shop, but he preferred hanging out by the ghats playing cricket or flying his kite. The kite was like all the other ones we saw - simply made, of thin plastic, little more than a piece of bin bag, but goodness did it soar. Our boy was skilled and with ease his kite surfed as high as the temples, and then wilfully found its way over the River, threatening a sacred bathe in the waters. But ‘our boy’ would, with deft of hand flick it back up into the Varanasi sky. Seeing our interest he offered the near invisible thread to Anil. After a few dud attempts, Anil’s Delhi boyhood came back and his childhood kite flying skills controlled the kite. This was one of those times, maybe you have had them yourself - you know when you pinch yourself, and tell yourself you will never ever forget this time. That is how I felt - Kite flying on the banks of the River Ganges in the sacred city of Varanasi - I mean - how lucky!
It was then that I think we decided that we would not be breaking our stay and going off to Lucknow. I mentioned before that people say ‘Varanasi does something to you’. Maybe this is what Varanasi was doing to us! Giving us the gift of just being where our feet were. Appreciating the mysteries of this one place fully, without the need to cram in more. Slowing it all down.
The Ghats and The Temples
From North Varanasi to South Varanasi we walked. The walk was right along the Ganges, on the ancient stone ghats, each Ghat name changing every so often, honouring a different God, and holding a specific temple. As is always the way for us, liking ‘off the beaten track type of places’ we were drawn to the smaller less known Ghats and temples where that sense of peace and sanctity hold the day - holding the slow misty morning, holding the hot sun of the day, and laying down to the darkness of the night.
However, we could not be here and not visit two main temples and I will share my honest experience which has left me feeling disappointed. We braced ourselves to endure the longest queue, surely the patience was part of the spiritual experience! But the queue was anything but peaceful. Push and shove, and brazenly “skip the queue’. At first I thought I would stay on my moral high ground and stood in my place, waiting my turn. After a bit I stepped towards the boundaries of that moral high ground and resorted to dirty looks and tutting in my loudest tutting voice, which was totally pointless - no one saw or heard, or gave a toss! Oh to hell - let’s join in the fight. So I pushed and shoved and elbowed. Like a BOSS!! And eventually we reached the deities standing patiently in all their glory inside ornate altars, surrounded by fruit and flowers as gifts from the pushers and shovers. More importantly, stacks of rupee notes adorned the feet of the gods. And we too made our contributions, because it is the done thing. And because I needed the pandit to release me from his tight ransom grip as aforementioned! I felt disappointed that what should have been a place of peace and sanctity felt more like a money making machine. Yet thousands of people seemed to be unperturbed, full of joy and belief - belief in all the ancient gods had to offer. Because there are plenty temples which will hold you in peace and worship, and so many pandits who do perform beautiful rituals which keep the ancient practices alive, and give us words of calm in a chaotic world.
DEATH AND THE CREMATION GHAT
When one talks of Varanasi, one likely associated it as being one of the most sacred places for cremations to take place, with the ashes of the deceased being cast into the sacred Mother Ganga.
To be laid to rest, or rather for ‘dust to dust’, ‘ashes to ashes’ to happen here, is the ultimate testimony of belief and hope of a positive re-incarnation for the thousands of Hindus who come on pilgrimage.
I have to confess in having a morbid curiosity and hoped to see the rituals of the burning ghats first hand. However, what I was taken to see was wholly inappropriate and something that stayed with me for days. Maybe I should say wholly inappropriate for my western culture.
We had decided to take a guide after all, hoping to learn more about the ancient customs and history of this place. What we got was really just an unshaven ‘bloke’ wandering us around his neighbourhood, something we were managing quite nicely ourselves. But we did not want to tell him we had changed our mind and we just may have learned something new. So we walked through the centre of the city with this chap as he gave us light explanations of a few of the temples we had passed. He seemed most insistent that we go to the Cremation Ghat explaining to us that here, death is very open, and is as much a part of the life one should see, as is the life itself. Anil was a little reluctant but I said that we should see this because it is such a key part of Hinduism, and we should not pick and choose only the parts of a culture which we most fancied. Learn it all to properly understand.
As we neared the cremation ground, we were quickly pushed to one side, as a funeral procession was coming through - four man carried the wooden ‘stretcher’, the body adorned with cloth of bright orange, and layered over with flowers. Within ten minutes, 3 such processions occured, the guide telling us there can be up to 150 cremations in a day. I was somewhat horrified at the openness of this and pressed myself into the side of the lane to allow these bodies to safely pass by.
The cremation ground was on two levels, one lower, just where the river meets the stone ghats, and one upper, under a canopy. We walked down to the banks of the river, and saw before us the smoking mounds of the pyres - I thought it looked as if the smoke was firing itself up to the heavens, wafting the spirit or the soul from the mortal earth.
As we stood in silence to respect the ritual, the chai wallahs continued selling their hot sweet brew, and the coconut seller cheerfully shouted out his wares. I could not believe that people were drinking tea and munching on snacks at a time like this. ‘I told you’, said the guide, ‘This is where life an death live side by side’. A man wrapped in white (I mean a living man), bent over at the edge of the waters, offering to the Ganges the remains which the fire had not reduced to ashes. The smell of woodsmoke in the air, the priests, the family members, the tourists all standing around as souls were released from their earthly journey.
‘Come, come,’said the guide, ‘I will take you to a better view point’, and before I knew it I was in the upper cremation ground. This was a step too far, or rather a step too close, and is something I would rather not have seen. I felt all of this was wrong - not the cremation itself but the openness of it. I respect the ritual which brings comfort to the mourners, but for my western mindset, this was all just too much. But it was real, it happens, and was indeed an experience. I guess if you live there it is just part of daily life. On reflection, and after an Indian friend told me ‘Jen, all customs, all religions, all cultures have practices which can seem ‘wrong’ if they are not part of your own belief system. But they are meaningful and have reason if you can understand them’, I realised that what was ‘wrong’ was not the ritual itself, but the fact that some guides, and not just our man, seemed to relish showing the tourists this scene, with a desire to shock.
But to them there is nothing shocking - it is as they say, quite simply ‘Life and Death’.
FINDING PEACE
The cremation ghat scenes remained with me for the next couple of days, and we decided to find our peace in the smaller ghats, away from the crowds, the money making pandits, and the push and shove of modern day worship.
We came upon a small ‘temple’ carved into stone - just a square shape with deities carved into the rock - and a small canopied ledge looking down to the river. This became ‘our spot’. We came for the next few days, and sat together, mostly in silence, with the company only of a black dog - this too must have been his spot. I would sit and do some meditation - a good friend has recently studied mindful meditation, and I chose her guided chakra meditation to settle myself. Anil did his kriyas. And that is where we found the beauty of Varanasi That is where we felt that ‘aura’ of the ancient city. That is where the land held us in its ancient wisdom.
One day our ‘Boy with Kite’ passed by and stopped to chat - it was a hot afternoon, and he ran off insisting to buy us some cold drinks. The sweet boy came back with ice cold soda and two paper cups, and sat with us, telling us that his father had a sari shop on the town, and his mother was a housewife. It was beautiful.
FINDING FOOD
During the previous 6 weeks, across 4 different cities, we had only experienced delicious food - not one bad experience and Varanasi did not buck that trend! We had met a lovely Italian girl who had been on a yoga retreat and she told us of a small unpretentious hotel with an open house dining area with excellent vegetarian food. As with everything in Varanasi, to reach any place is a meandering maze challenge, but this one worth the quest. At the end of a climb of around 80 steep steps, on the roof top of the building was a lovely restaurant spotlessly clean, and with wonderful views. Removing our shoes as was the request, we loved the ambience inside, as well as its home made vegetarian food. We chose this place for two nights, and would have easily come again but found another recommendation for a very old hotel close to where we were staying in our ‘back packer room’. We were the only diners apart from one man, that always makes me wary. But by the time we had finished the restaurant had filled up with locals, Indian and International tourists. Chicken curry, tandoori roti and chicken kebabs, with fresh lime soda. Our last supper was delicious.
Varanasi - How grateful I am to have experienced such a place. It has given me much to think about. But we are ready to move on.
Comments