All Things Considered

 The captivating colors of marigolds , the uplifting smell of flowers wafting from the flower market, the holy graffiti on walls & vermilion painted temples, the clanging bells, the waves of crowds hailing grace to the Gods in religious fervor at the ghats, the serpentine queue outside the Vishwanatha temple, the suffocating smoke that emanates from the funeral pyre at the burning ghats, the stench from the dumpyard near the market, the deafening drumbeat that announces the visarjan of the Sarawathi idols after VasanthPanchami, that eardrum-piercing sound from the loudspeaker sending in incessant streams of mantras mercilessly, knee-weakening rabdi, and the glass of uplifting, mildly spiced , piping hot magic for cold winter days – the chai. Varanasi - or Benaras as the local prefer to call it– ,a place that conjures up many images in the mind’s eye, welcomes arms out-stretched and it lives up every bit to its image. If there is a maximum city, it has to be this - Everything here is so overwhelmingly powerful to the senses. You almost a need a new word for Overwhelming.

While the ghats remain the principal attraction at Benaras, much of the charm away from the riverside are in those narrow labyrinthine cobble-stoned alleys. It is obvious: The Banarasis never thought straight roads and regular geometrical shapes were a good idea. :) Even the PanchaKroshi road that has existed since centuries meanders along the river - a road that takes hundreds of thousands of pilgrims who come here each day to bathe in the holy Ganges: An act that is meant to guarantee these rebirth-fearing hindu pilgrims a one way ticket to the world beyond, unconditionally.

Within the city, these winding lanes either slope up taking you to the part of the city situated at a higher elevation or slope down the escarpment to the treacherously steep ghats down to the river. Effortful walking through some of these lanes makes one keenly aware that the city is built on a high ridge – Despite the city’s position at the water’s edge, its probably its lofty position that has been saving it from the spate of the Ganges during the monsoon months. Right here the imaginative mind can glimpse how magnificent the east-facing riverfront must have looked a few centuries ago: When this towering ridge wasn’t Kashi yet. When this dense human settlement did not exist.

While I’m consumed by all these thoughts, I suddenly realize I am lost in this notorious labyrinth of lanes. The only sensible thing to do now is to lose myself. Narrow cobblestone lanes with lofty buildings rising on either sides, housing a variety of shops: fat-full frightful fried fare, bright flowers & smell of dashanga, sweet shops and aththar shops very easily lure me.

Not surprisingly, in this city of gods for every 30 meters there is a small temple or a shrine. The entire city is landscaped with temples, shrines,ashrams, mutts, dharamsalas – you name it. If your town has one, Varanasi has a handful. At Varanasi, mythology has indeed become geography.

And cleanliness, history. If Varanasi embodies the culture of a whole ancient civilization, it is also a living example of the abysmal state of affairs of small, over-crowded indian pilgrimage towns. The mixed odour of chlorine, urine and agarbathis pervades your nostrils even in this holiest of holy cities. The Ganga is dirty and murky, laden with filth from the mind-boggling rituals that are performed at the ghats, the ablutions and the large-scale laundry, charred remains from the burning – So much that sewage back-up is a city-wide problem today. The shopkeepers on either sides of these lanes seem to be of the general opinion that what is refuse belongs rightly on the streets. For all the purity-talk that one hears so often in this place, there is little evidence that the city considers purity a function of cleanliness. ( Or, why even bother when anything – no matter how filthy – can be rendered ‘pavitr’ with just a few mantras and a sprinkle of holy ganges ! :D )

Yet, yet, yet – From the action-packed ghats to the unassuming home of Ustad Bismillah Khan, Malai on the Kalika gali to the Kesar Rabdi on Tateri Bazaar, from the everyday ritualfare on the ghatside to the exuberance of th yearly Vasant Panchami festivities, Varanasi fascinates as much as it frustrates, compels as much as it repels, and uplifts as it storms your senses. An easy haven even to the most decidedly non-religious backpacker.

(A prayer lamp on the placid water. The Ganges,Varanasi.)

[Picture edited on an uncalibrated monitor. If you see bizaaarre colors, lemme know ;-p]