Why Banaras?

In a recent chat with Srinath, who was one of my co-organizers for Spic-Macay events at IIT Kanpur, we talked about a Varanasi trip in 2005 (I think). I had written up this account then. Its one of those few accounts that I still like two years after writing.


---------------------------------------------------


Why Banaras?


"Why Banaras?" my friend almost shouted on phone, in mixed surprise and anger. In fact, anyone who knew me- the skeptic, and the city- the mystic, spirtual center, advised me against it. Just as I was beginning to have second thoughts, the eternally-in-bliss Srinath entered. He is the kind of guy who can find romance even in the evil-dead movies (you get the point, don't you?). "Are you coming?", he was the person who had suggested the trip in the first place. Over the next few minutes, he dismissed my misgivings, by repeatedly pointing to an earthly romance in the holy city. Though hardly convinced, I decided to give it a try. I wasn't going to do anything over the weekend anyway!

Unplanned as the visit was, we could only catch the third train, and it was already late night. Once inside the train, we could only catch very little sleep (blame the above two to bad catching practice. I did manage to catch cold though :) ). However, early morning, when we reached the city, I contemplated that the journey was probably worth the trouble. Coming out of the station, one notices an apparent difference in the way the people look. They are calm, serene, far from sadness, and even happiness. In stark contrast to the tempo-wallah's at Kanpur, whose natural expression is almost bitter. Even the language-bhojpuri- reflects a complacence matched only by bihari.

Taking a rather arduous path, we reached Samar's home. Samar, the grand old man of SPIC MACAY IIT Kanpur, is a good friend of ours (he isn't really old, he's completing his PhD, but he has been there in IITK for as long as I can remember). There was a 24-hour non-stop Ramcharitmanas reading going on at his home. I am not the kind to like the bhajans, but I was too tired to be displeased, and after having a traditional lunch, I dozed off peacefully. In retrospect, I believe I actually liked the bhajans, which is quite an event for me. The environment was so home-like, that in the middle of my sleep, I noticed a small kid sleeping beside me, and I never even thought it was something surprising (I didn't even remember where I was sleeping!). The kid was Samar's nephew, and in the few hours after we woke up, he and his cousins kept me quite busy. :)



Samar's nephew and his cousins

As the sun set, Srinath, who has been to Varanasi before, accompanied me to Ganga's "Dashashmavedha" ghat for the evening aarti. One of my friends had recommended this aarti, and not without good reasons. If you do not have an idea of what aarti at this ghat is like, this is unlike any aarti you've seen before. 5 young men stand on platforms, synchronously performing aarti to the river. A glorious platform with light-decorated chatris and chanting of sanskrit hymns completes the picture. The fires in hands of the men and the confidence on their faces is symbolic of the place. The aarti begins on a low note, and the tempo rises to a crecendo in no time, finally coming down again before a soft end. It is an elaborate arrangement, and at the end of it I was feeling surprised that such an aarti is performed daily. It seems appropriate only for special occasions!


The evening aarti


We came down to the ghat, and took a boat ride. It was already dark, and only the lights on the ghats were visible, along with sand on the other shore. Our boatman was Gauri. No, Gauri is a male. He took us a full circle telling us about some of the ghats, and stories behind them. There was on named after Dr. Rajendra Prasad, and one after Meera. There was a ghat where the pehlavan's still practise their sport, and one where a lady was playing with fire. Yet another, Harishchandra ghat, where bodies were being cremated. It was as if different forms and stages of life are put together on a small stage for you to see. The darkness only elevated the mystic nature. Gauri was rather an introvert, and spoke only when necessary. Mostly we were surrounded by sounds of the oar gently heaving the water, as the silent movie unfolded in front of us. If nobody spoke for a couple of minutes, my mind would plunge into serenity and peace, as if being here was the most natural thing.


It was quite late by the time we were off the boat. On the way back, we stopped over to have a wonderful chaat and gol-gappas at Kashi-chat bhandar, which was predecided by Srinath based on his previous outings there.

We had planned an early morning re-visit to the Ghats, but it got too late by the time we were in our beds. So when I woke up next morning, Srinath suggested dropping some plans, and getting some more sleep. To pester him about this for years to come, I took a pic of his while he slept :)



Sri sleeps early morning

So we managed to leave Samar's home only late morning, and went to the Kashi Vishwanath temple. Temple visit was short-n-sweet, and my mind was more on the score in Indo-Pak match going on, than on the temple. More so because my first choice had been Sarnath, of which we weren't even sure we were going to visit. I actually had fun in the visit. I wore a garland of "dhatura" flowers obtained as prasadam, and roamed around in semi-sane state. Despite repeated objections from Srinath, I kept the garland on for the rest of the trip!

Coming back from the temple, we skipped lunch, and went straight to Sarnath. Sarnath is home to a Buddhist stupa. Getting off the auto-rickshaw, we first went into a museum containing a brief history of the place, as well as some idols and artefacts that were unearthed while excavating the stupa.

Around the stupa, there were a couple of buddhist temples, one built with Japanese aid, and other with Sri Lankan aid. While the Japanese temple had glorious statues, and a modern look (it was built in 1993, or thereabouts), the Sri Lankan temple had wonderfully painted walls inside. The paintings depicted buddha's complete life, and it was interesting to relate the paintings with the various buddha stories that I had come across.



The Dhamekha Stupa

As a grand finale to the trip, we went to the Dhamekha Stupa. This was built at the place where Buddha gave his first lecture (to his 5 pupils) after enlightenment. It used to be a deer park, and I guess they still have some wild animals at the place (even in our absence). Colonel Cunningham had excavated the stupa. He bore a shaft from the top center of the stupa, and found a tablet with an inscription containing the word “Dhamekha”. The remains of what seemed like a place of study (does that delight you? :) ) were quite interesting, but we were already finished with the time we had. We had taken a guide with us, who was really nice. (The last guide, at Konark, had been quite a headache.) He also showed us a tree which purportedly grew from a branch of a branch of a branch of a tree under which buddha attained enlightenment! In between all these branch-changes (!), or branch-transfers, there was one which had come from Sri Lanka! (and, therefore, also one which had gone to Sri Lanka :) ).

That was it. We returned back, late as usual, and darted off to the station. Samar's brothers saw us off, and we were back to where be belong around midnight.

So why Banaras? The ghats, the stupa, the temple? Probably not. I think the answer lies in the spirit that the city represents. The city is enchanting, but strangely so. The people have a sense of maturity. At the ghats, you can see the aarti, the practicing of artistic skills, the daily work of washermen, and cremation grounds, all juxtaposed to put forward a wholesome view of life. A view where death is just another event. Where the transience of life has been accepted, and the city has risen above pondering over questions on life. I would probably not have enjoyed Banaras had I been there earlier, maybe just a couple of years back. The city demands a certain maturity, and a certain balance, certain even-headedness and temperament. I never knew I possessed these qualities, and more so, that they offer a calm joy and peace. In a way, I have grown up, and the city made me realize it.