Travel Update: Varanasi is good to go.

Some people know it as Benares; others know it as Kashi; most of us know it as Varanasi, the religious and spiritual extreme of India. At age 21, I backpacked through India for four months solo, not quite ready for this extreme; I left Varanasi for another day.

Eighteen years later, that day had come. The skies aligned with the stars and I finally found my way to Varanasi.

Within a few hours of arriving, I unexpectedly came to Manikarnika Ghat, the infamous “Burning Ghat” cremation grounds. Bodies have been burning here, twenty-four-seven, into the open air for thousands of years. This is often described as the most unrelenting and overwhelming experience in India. Knowing this, I stepped into the Burning Ghat and sat in an archway beside a yellow tarp. Seated with me were locals, relatives of the burning, stray dogs and a sleeping cow. Roughly forty feet away, families recited prayers and scattered ashes into the sacred Ganges River. In front of me, six human pyres burned, and their smoke billowed into the sky with no abandon. Family members gathered around their pyre, watching it, as it slowly consumed and released their loved one into the open sky.

Every so often, waves of smoke made its way up to our archway. I hesitated to fully breathe at first, afraid of the stench of burning flesh; then when I did, it smelled much like a normal wood burning fire.

There were many sounds around: the fire crackled, hissed and roared; bells rang aloud, prayers were chanted, and people chatted. Strangely in this Ghat, a few sounds were absent. As a matter of tradition, there was no outpouring of emotion, no crying or sobbing nor were there any women. Traditions aside, everything and everybody including myself, existed here with a great sense of ease and calm. I sat in this archway for three hours, first in complete awe, then in complete peace; I was beginning to understand this sacred city.

I continued to venture through Varanasi for another week, strolling through like a free man. I connected with hundreds of locals, with little-to-no words. The connection began with a quick catch of our eyes, our goodness, grins and smiles; next we shared a 'nod' of sorts; a tilting of the head to the right, continuing in a full circular motion, all within one extended blink. This ‘Varanasi nod’ signifies a sense acceptance, represents its people, and is special to this part of India. This would have eluded me eighteen years ago.

This is true Varanasi, make no mistake about it.