A Wanderer's Monologue of the Little Planet

The flamboyance of urban life can be rather exhausting. I, too, felt lost as I fought with my a-quarter-life crisis in a dazzling big city. Like many confused minds, I embarked on a soul searching journey to India, hoping to find enlightenment.

Two weeks’ travel in this country was a great challenge for both mind and body. The effort spent on dealing with hygiene, safety and constantly the savvy of its people, did not turn me into a “white tiger”. Instead, I was completely unnerved.

Varanasi is the last leg of my trip. I was ready to head home, with all intentions to conclude the last bit of this India trip in haste. Arrival at dawn, the city was already surrounded by the hustle and bustle. Despite my overnight train ride, and limp figure, I decided to go out for a walk. Mist hung in the air of the January morning, and a chill stole over me, life has commenced early, as usual, by the holy river There came the banging of the wooden planks on the wet clothes, some men were brushing teeth and bathing in the water, and a few others just wandering around aimlessly. Time seemed to stand still here.

Standing at the entrance of a narrow gali, a loud yelling arose from behind me and suddenly two men carrying a bier briskly passed by. I winced and stiffened.

Unconsciously, I have stumbled upon the legendary open-air cremation at the Manikarnika Ghat. Firewood burst in fame and chunks of smoke wreathed up into the sky. To the devout Hindus, resting their lives in Varanasi is the ultimate happiness; praying the Ganga to wash off their sins, and to bring good Karma into their next life. For many who made their way here, life has reached an end. Or it is just a rite of passage, and afterwards, there is still a long way to go. No cry, not at all.

I looked for a place to perch myself by the Ghat, to embrace a moment of solitude, and to soak in all these before my eyes. A young man came by to sell drinks and I grabbed a Masala chai. Some kids were playing nearby, and a cow stood by the river bank, glazing at the morning sprinkles on the Ganga. Scattered flowers floated afar along the water, carrying the full blessings for those faithful believers.

I sipped a chai, its flavor quickly dissipated. “Victory or failure, it will pass” as the old saying goes - what’s next in life is yet to be explored.

I think I’ve found peace.