Stare, don't look

I was so repeatedly warned about the dirt and the crowd in the ghats of varanasi that I felt like I was wearing layers and layers of sweaters one on top of each other, completely protected from the extreme weather conditions outside. I was physically and mentally prepared for the worst, ready to combat any unwanted situation that may come up.

Again, this magical city did not cease to amaze me.  My breath got stuck in my throat and my eyes definitely went for a nice long walk along the river on the ghats, across the river and back as I stood there, unable to move with my feet stuck to the ground. The ganga looked like a new bride, beautiful and innocent, paving way for so many stories and hopeful wishes. Together with the busy ghats, the sight was unbelievable. Another thing that was unbelievable was that while I was drinking in the beauty of what I was staring at, not even once did I stop to notice the “dirt” or the “squalor” that I was expecting to see. There is so much energy in the place, so many activities happening simultaneously that every single time I looked at the same place, I noticed something new.

photograph by Solita Deb

I just wanted to walk along the river on the ghats and take in the beauty of the entire place. This was probably one of the few days of my life that I felt like I was looking at something that was genuinely beautiful, from deep within, something so complex that even if you spend a lifetime there, you will just be left wondering how the entire system works so perfectly, so synchronized, complete with flaws and shortcomings and everything else that there is to it.

The ghats, for me, were perfect in their near perfection. From naked men and women casually bathing in the river banks, without a care in the world about thousands of tourists and locals lounging on the ghats, staring at them, to little kids running around selling floating diyas, pouncing on poor unsuspecting foreign tourists. From the chants of the temples to the lights of the ghats reflecting on the river. I was enchanted by he bewildering number of activities happening all at the same time.

The walk in the ghats was not just beautiful, it exposed me to a lot of realities of life. Harishchandra and manikarnika ghats were two places that shook me up a little bit. Death is something that people in kashi come across everyday. For them it is a concept that is understood and accepted by all. Tens of bodies lying around in the ghats waiting to get cremated. We sat there for the longest time and I couldn’t stop wondering about the whole idea of not shying away from death, of not considering it a taboo, or taking it as a topic that’s not sensitive to talk about. These people getting cremated were not just bodies with organs and hands and legs, they were actual human beings with emotions and opinions, they must have had a family, some social standing, something they were proud of. And here we are, sitting and watching while the last evidence of their existence was getting burnt away. It gave me something to think about.. 

photograph by Solita Deb