Dhanyavad!

“See you by the ghat!” she had said.

1. Clarify meeting points.

In the moonlight, my finger traced the 'S' on the map I'd torn out. Page 440: Varanasi. Dozens of grey dots looked up at me, each marking separate ghats, the numerous steps that decorate the riverbank.

2. If lost, explore.

I stuffed the Lonely Planet page in my pocket, and pushed into the dense kaleidoscope to search for my friend.

Past silver-ringed fingers throwing turquoise petals into the muggy air. Around sizzling golden kachoris teasing my nostrils.

Hold up. Funeral.

I suddenly became aware of the charcoal smog and smouldering corpses. Snow-white saris fluttered in the stifling evening air. Icy tears descended clammy faces. They trailed Pita-ji's body; a needle pulling a fragile pale thread, piercing a patchwork of multicolour mayhem.

Okay, go.

Dodging the fuschia paint that blushed chuckling children's cheeks. “Excuse me!" Across priests juggling orange embers, narrowly missing their matted scarlet beards. "Where is she?"

Belting drums set my heartbeat's rapid pace. A hand grabbed my shoulder. Shit.

“Where’ve you been? Not this ghat, everyone comes here!”
Teal blue eyes. A snaggletooth smirk. Fear rushed out of me. Annie.

3. Bring a wise pal.

My friend dragged me away from the hued hubbub and clamorous colour. Soon, distance subdued bedlam; only the slapping of flip-flops disturbed the silence. The Ganges seemed relieved; she breathed more peacefully here. Calmed, we perched and dipped our toes onto the surface. A sprinkle of fireflies kissed the water.

4. Do it your way.

A family huddled around yellow flickers. The son tiptoed over and set down a pair of delicate paper boats. Within each snugly sat a small tea light. The tiny flames' glow warmed his innocent smile.
“Gift of thanks to Mother Ganga.”
He gestured to the water and shuffled away.

I glanced up at the amber specks. Those weren’t fireflies.

"Dhanyavad!" I called.

5. Always say thank-you.

In cheerful quietude, we said thanks to Mother Ganga.
I was thankful for my best friend.
We nudged out our boats, which gently drifted to join the hundreds of golden lights blinking back at us.
I was thankful for unique moments.
Our thank-yous hovered mid-air in blackness, mirroring the stars wrapped in a purple blanket above.
Mostly, I was thankful that there would be more of these to come.

Annie and I followed our glimmers of thanks until they floated out of sight away on their journey. We turned, and continued our own.