Banaras : where time does rewind

Sitting at my work station, it isn’t too difficult to close my eyes and hear the oar splashing into the river and coming out rhythmically. “ Log kehte hai hamari Ganga Maiya apawitra ho gayi hai, aap dekhiye, isse swachcha pani aapko kahan milega?” said the boatman as he ferried us across to the other side of the river. Loosely translated it means “who would say that the Ganga is polluted looking at its pristine water”.

It’s the river of life truly and like life, it collects all things unnecessary as it flows along and can’t really be blamed for having a pollution density multiple times of the permissible limits.

But what stayed with me once I experienced the river, aren’t facts and figures pointing at pollution and when the north India rivers are going to dry up – but the life that sprouts around it.

I assumed it to be an exaggeration when people said that you see “life” in all its stages on the ghats. They couldn’t have been more accurate!I saw people courting by the ghats, newly married couples, couples with young children, older couples vacationing, old people who had come to live their last days in the holy city in the quest for ‘moksha’ and – I saw a multitude of people who had passed away being carried away with holy chants decorated in bright brocade and being cremated on the burning ghats. Death ceases to be unnatural once you visit the place and you see how effortlessly the people have transformed this phenomenon into a ritual that beats our regular understanding. By virtue of having our guest house located close to one of the burning ghats, trespassing through the ghat was the fastest way to get to the other ghats – I passed the burning ghat and saw the pyres burning and many a strong breeze from the river blew ashes on us. Ashes unknown. Ashes all the same. There was something strong about it that I am unable to define.

As closely as you experience the last stage of life in Banaras, can you experience life in a multitude of colours. Colours antiquated and old and utterly beautiful. The town in not a heritage town by virtue of its buildings – its language, food, culture and I suspect the beautiful people are heritage people too! There were more than one occasion when I was unable to answer a question asked in ‘ khadi boli’ as I was mesmerized by the sheer sound of it. I mean who uses words like “ parichay”, “ swachcha”, “ pawitra”, “ sandhya” anymore – it’s a world of abbreviations isn’t it : )

Food is more than a gastronomic experience in Banaras – it’s a spiritual experience. Having the pot bellied sweet faced man with the lilt in his language make piping hot tea is something. So is the pleasure of eating the best samosas and kachoris I have ever sampled. What took the cake is obviously Malaiyo! A 3 year quest to find this perfect milk dessert post seeing Vir Sanghwi on Travel and Living eating Malaiyo in Banaras was also one of the reasons that drew me to the place.

Confession – I didn’t take the dip in the Ganga. I didn’t feel I wanted to seeing the hygiene of certain tourists on the ghats - and more importantly, maybe I don’t want moksha! Maybe I want to go through the cycle of life and death as a human being, bird, ant, rodent something again! And maybe it’s all mythology – and we all just disintegrate into soil at the end of it.