Varanasi : So Long

Just a few more pictures out of the 478 I took, in six days. Just because…

Varanasi : And the Muck

All right, I cannot write a series of posts about Varanasi and turn a blind eye (and plugged nose) to the muck that one encounters while ambling through its maze of lanes and bylanes. Here you are, basking in the beauty of a towering old palace when the stench of urine suddenly overwhelms you. Or you follow a narrow street, suddenly spot a small temple, and almost walk into a pile of shit still fragrant and warm.

That’s India, but more so than anywhere else, I felt, it is Varanasi.

Varanasi : Hidden Temple

On the last afternoon, we were looking for a place to have lunch and spotted what looked like a pretty outdoor restaurant inside what must have been an old haveli at some point in time. We hopped off our rickshaw and went in. The restaurant was pretty, but the food was more than average, and I suspect it’s what I ate there that was responsible for my not feeling well, the following day. Should have stuck to the street side stalls selling chaat. Anyway, inside that open area was the most beautiful little temple, built apparently by some maharajah who still comes to visit once a year. Look at that beauty.

Varanasi : Autorickshaw ride

Taking an auto-rickshaw in India is often an adventure in and of itself. I also knew that people share autos all the time, simply to make the ride cheaper for everyone. But I had never had people jump into an auto while I was riding in it. 

So, here am I, watching the busy street scene in Varanasi from the inside of my naturally ventilated auto, sipping water from my bottle because it’s so hot, when suddenly, even as the auto is moving, two policemen jump in, one on each side of the driver, and sit there as if it’s the most natural thing to do. And I guess it is, because when my friend asked the auto driver why he let them do that, he just shrugged, and said something like : “what can I possibly do ?”

Now, my friend, who is not the type to sit quietly while people abuse a situation (as we say in French, she does not have her tongue in her pocket) is asking them – in Hindi, of course – what they’re doing here, and could they not ask for permission to use our rickshaw, when a policewoman jumps in at the back, half her body bent so she can fit in the low space. This time, my friend argues vehemently, and refuses to move to allow this lady to squeeze in and sit with us. In the end, she jumped out again, saying that my friend was making her life too difficult.

The two policemen got off at a crossing, maybe five minutes later, without even a thank you. Then again, maybe they didn’t feel welcome.

Varanasi : Morning rituals along the Ganga

The absolute highlight of my visit to Varanasi was the morning boat ride on the Ganga, right after sunrise.

The light was sublime, the air carried a lovely fresh breeze, and being on the river, with the sound of the oar parting the water as we glided along the ghats watching the morning rituals, was magic. As soon as it was over, I wanted to do it again. Unfortunately, I was not feeling well the following morning (and last), and could not renew the experience. No matter, I took dozens of pictures, and the images are still vivid in my mind.

Here we see a man mediating against a backdrop of collapsed temples half immersed in the water.
Our boat-wallah had an explanation about this : a pandit was meditating on this ghat and asked to move so a temple could be built. When he wouldn’t, he was forced to. Furious, he declared that no temple would ever stand straight on these steps. (It is a very similar story to the story of the Mehrangarh Fort, in Jodhpur, as reported here.) My traveling guides simply mention that the elaborate structures of that temple were so heavy that they collapsed. That ghat  is eerily beautiful.

A family taking a dip, and waving happily.

Below, pandits performing a puja on a little platform complete with umbrella, on the water.

Varanasi : Offering to the Ganga

During our evening boat ride, we bought diyas to this little girl I mentioned before, and offered them to the Ganga.

I bought four of these little recycled paper cups filled with petals that the girl probably picked up from some seller at the end of the day, or who knows where as they looked extremely tired. Each had a wick and some wax in the middle. One for each member of my family. You are supposed to have a thought, or wish, as you do this.

My friend is a widow with two grown-up sons, and she also offered four diyas to the Ganga. Interestingly, the first one capsized almost immediately.

As she looked at my little diyas moving with the current, she commented on the first one moving much faster than the others, and said : “Here goes Michel, way ahead of everyone else.” I started looking at this little group of diyas. She was right. One kept on moving ahead, two were very close together, and one seemed to hover on the side, not too close, but not too far either. I like to think that it was my diya, and the others were my daughters.

Varanasi : Buying Sarees

So far, my experience buying sarees had been limited to going thrice to some of the big shops in Hyderabad. You go in, sit on a chair in front of a long table, and a salesman gets sarees out one after the other.

In Varanasi, thanks to my friend and her numerous connexions all over India, I discovered a new way of shopping for sarees.

First, you take off your shoes and enter a big room where the whole floor is covered with white mattresses. You sit against bolster cushions, drink chai or sweet-and-salt lime water, and a man brings saree after saree after saree until the mattresses around you have beautiful piles shimmering with bright colored silks.

The salesman will even model the saree for you, as seen below.

And yes, I brought two home… Souvenirs, you know.

Varanasi : People

One of the highlights of Varanasi was the warmth of its people. I had read in some guides that tourists get pestered a lot, and having experienced that in other places in India, I expected to have to say, and repeat, and repeat again a lot of “no, thank you.” Well it didn’t happen, even when I went off on my own along the ghats or in the lanes of Varanasi.  I was greeted by a lot of “Namaste” and that was about it.

Above are two ladies sitting outside their home, chatting, and watching the world go by.

Below,  is a family having lunch.

Young people having fun in the water.

After a few days on the ghats, you start recognizing faces. We kept seeing this girl. Here she’s selling us diyas to offer to the Ganga.

And finally, one of our rickshaw wallahs.

Varanasi : Lassi, Chaat

As mentioned in the first post of this Varanasi series, one of the things that made this trip so different for me was that I didn’t have to be as careful as I usually am when traveling with the children (and my extremely hygiene-conscious husband.) I won’t say I didn’t experience some trepidation as I sampled some of the Indian staples sold in the street, because I did. But oh well !

Our breakfast, each morning, was lassi, which is a yogurt based drink. One on the first day, two on the following, because it was so incredibly yummy. Eating it out of the little clay pots is not easy, but it’s part of the fun.

Of course, I then realized that the clay pots cannot be recycled, which is why you see piles of broken earthware in so many places. Better than plastic, I suppose.

Another new experience was eating Chaat. I’d had some here in Hyderabad, before, but in a mall. Now, I realize that the dish on the picture may not look like much, but trust me : it was absolutely delicious, and for someone who’s been living in Andhra Pradesh, known to have one of the hottest food in India, pleasantly mild !

Varanasi : Daily Evening Aarti to the Ganga

Hindus in India worship the river Ganga as a goddess. Every evening in Varanasi, aarti is performed at the Dashashwamedh ghat. We watched it twice, once from the ghat, the second time from the waterside, in a boat.

It is a beautiful, resonant, and majestic spectacle with a very precise choreography involving rituals performed by several priests, to the sound of bells, drums, cymbals, and Sanskrit mantras.

The rituals begin with the priests blowing in a conch ; they then hold incense sticks in their right hands and perform intricate gestures, while the left hand constantly plays a bell ; the incense is then replaced by a large camphor lamp, and finally a pyramid of little flames, as seen above. The river is also worshiped with flower petals.

//www.youtube.com/get_player