So we were approaching the end of the tour and i was looking forward to getting back to my second home in Delhi. But last stop was the crumbling maze of a city that rises from the ghats (steps) on the Western banks of the Ganges, Varanasi. It is the epitome of India in many ways. With an anceitn history- Mark Twain famously described it as "older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together"- it's also one of the most sacred cities in the world. Kashi, aka "city of light" as it is also known where the eternal light of Lord Shiva intersects the Earth is seen by devotees is the holiest of Indian pilgrimages. Home of shiva, it is where the devout come to wash away their sins. It's also one of the holiest "tirthas" -meaning crossing or sacred places where mortals can cross over to the divine, or the gods and goddesses come to bathe on earth. People therefore return here to die in the hope that they'll attain moksha, the salvation of the soul from the cycle of birth, death and rebirth.
Varanasi is named after the confluence of two rivers, Varuna and Asi. The city is centered on the ghats that line the waterfront, each honoring Shiva in the form of a Linga- the rounded phallic-like shaft of stone found on every ghat. We cruised the waterfront in a rowing boat at both sunset and dawn. Both were surreal experiences and ones that i'll cherish for the rest of my life. At sunset, the pundits (priests) at Dasahwamedh Ghat performed a beautiful aarti (ritual) with complicated fire rituals and we lit candles to float along the sacred waters. Mine toppled as i went to set it in the river and burned out there and then- i don't know if that's a good or bad sign!?! But i choose not to think about it. I get a sinking feeling (exuse the pun) just thinking about what it may symbolise. We also watched the funeral ceremonies take place. Everywhere in India it's auspicious to be cremated in the morning, at dawn, but here in Varanasi as i already mentioned, anything goes in the name of Shiva and attaining moksha. Perhaps the downside of that is reflected in the blatant commerciality of the place. I found it to be just another Pushkar, only with far more traffic and pollution. One could literally feel the smog filling up the lungs and we'd cough and splutter everytime we took a cyclo in and out of town. The boat ride at dawn was dark and very cold but so special when we could see the devotees bathing, meditating, performing yoga and performing ancient rituals to greet the sun.
Earliest accounts of the city go back 8000years and "the city of learning and burning" as it is affectionately referred to, has attracted pilgirms from time immemorial and not only Hindus- even Buddha visited here in 500BC after he acheived enlightenment. He shared his wisdom at nearby Sarnath. There were successive raids by Muslim invaders (most of whom affected by the tyrannical Aurangzeb) which led to the destruction of many of the original Hindu templs. As a result no buildings date back further than the 18th century. Even then however, it is easy to feel the ancient history permeating through the city's walls. Got lost in the impossibly cramped labyrinth in which cows and motorbikes still managed to appear. We were continually crowded by pilgrims purchasing flowers for puja (offering or prayer), grieving relatives bearing corpses, chanting priests sounding gong, and sacred cows rifling through the rubbish. I love to hate/hate to love (delete as appropriate) the place is the best way to sum up my feelings towards it. It was a shithole and there were cockroaches crawling out of every crevice of my hotel room resulting in very few nights of sleep yet one could feel the presence of god and felt pious when walking through the city. But i think it's safe to say that i won't be returning any time soon. Except when i die maybe; to be cremated on the banks of the river Ganges.
