On a mystical journey...
Manpreet Singh

A number of foreigners seek solace in the lap of the Ganga

LIFE is a festival in this eternal city. And faith is what keeps Varanasi, one of the world’s oldest cities, vibrant and moving. Birth, marriage, death—all are solemnised on the banks of the holy Ganga.

The caravan of everyday life moves to a providential routine, where life and death merge into an experience of stoic existence. Life, as well as death, is given the same ritualistic importance.

To get cremated at this sacred place, it is believed, frees one from the endless cycle of death and rebirth. Death’s presence pervades only to constantly remind one of the temporary world and its maya. Death loses its fearsomeness in this holy place and becomes one experience of life.

The moneyed, who feel depressed due to their insatiable desires, need to take a walk around the ghats to see the curse of poverty. But the poor still smile. Ragged, hungry, diseased and shelterless, they live on the banks of the Ganga, which moves on eternally, even indifferently, having seen it all.

Here you meet some true ascetics sleeping "in the feet of mother Ganga" for years, having renounced the worldly ties to achieve the only goal of existence — to merge with the Absolute.

In soothing saffron, an ascetic, Tripathi, narrates how he came here, "There was a time when I clung to my family, but a restlessness never left me. After marrying off my only daughter, I came here. And for the last nine years I am living in the lap of Ganga Maiyaa. My wife, a nurse in Uttar Pradesh, lives on without me. One has to follow the purpose for which one came to this world. But one comes here only when Gangaji desires, and calls."

Also are there many poor who don saffron robes to escape poverty or indulge in smoking marijuana and live idle lives. You meet here the American beggars who say "sorry for begging" as they ask you for money. You also see French neo-journalists making documentaries on ghat life, Canadians and Israelis learning Indian classic music and Japanese girls in Banarasi sarees. You find here restless wanderers and tourists from the world over — some seeking answers of absolute nature, others finding solutions to problems that come with life.

Varanasi: Life is a festival in this eternal city

Priests, peanut sellers, children selling flowers, barbers, cobblers — all carry on their business throughout the day. The children turn the ghats into cricket grounds, while their rubber ball falls into the river at every sweeping shot. Even sadhus take interest in the game.

Cows, goats, dogs, swans move fearlessly on the ghats — the man and the beast coexist harmoniously. The animals take bath in the river along with human beings.

Chiming bells, dim lights of oil lamps and beating of drums awaken a spirit that is struggling to fight temptations.

Once you take a trip to the ghats, one thing is guaranteed — life for you will never be the same again, provided, you have the eyes and a heart that see and feel — still.