Varanasi or Kashi or Banaras, whatever one may call it, the place plays a significant role in the life of a Hindu whether he believes in god or not. It's not about the temples you visit but the air you breathe when you are walking on the congested streets of Varanasi. It's about the ghats you visit. It's about the food you eat. For long people have associated Kashi with a sense of spirituality often labeling you with tags as "devotee" or "Shiv Bhakt" but my trip to Varanasi made me realize that the magic that people talk about happens not inside the temples but in the places you would least expect.
Varanasi and the vibes
I was one among the millions of people who arrived in Varanasi for the annual event of Dev Deepawali celebrated fifteen days after Diwali and organized by the Uttar Pradesh Government. The highlights of the event are the firecrackers which when I witnessed, completely left me in awe of the moment. The greatest fire show I witnessed! But the time for Dev Deepawali starts tomorrow and there are so many videos on YouTube that one cannot describe anything better than that. A day earlier, my friends decided to go to Kashi Vishwanath Temple for the second time while I chose to remain outside and try to get the feel of Banaras which honestly, I had not gotten as expected till now.
I left my friends at Gate No. 4 of the temple with a Shastri who will perform Rudrabhishek for them. I went up opposite the crossroad towards Gyanvapi. Yes, the Gyanvapi mosque is adorned with pale blue Ujaala color with broken paints standing firmly alongside the golden temple. For someone unaware, this structure might look like a simple mosque with no real difference from the other ones in Banaras. To the known, this is something to stand and look towards. I, like millions of Indians, had only seen Gyanvapi in newspapers and TV channels. Today, I too, stood there beside Gate No. 4 from where a small portion of the mosque is visible from the gap between two walls. I looked closely towards the walls that people claim to look like a temple. It is a chaotic road with not a single moment of silence. But there is silence in my mind. When I see those walls and the mosque and the temple, I do not hear the loud chaotic sounds of Banaras at that moment. "Dekho masjid mandir sath me hain, asli Kashi hai ye", blurted out a lady in her mid-age to her daughter (assumed). This broke my momentum and I started walking upwards again.
Gyanvapi Mosque with Kashi Vishwanath
The first left turn I took to an extremely congested road barely 10 feet wide. A road just enough to walk for three people side by side was accommodating two-wheelers as well. The shops lined up on both sides of the road with bangles and other women's jewelry. Most of the names belong to the Muslim community and most of the men are wearing taqiyah. In between a few sweet shops can be spotted but bangles dominate this area. I walked and walked and walked for more than 300 metres but the road did not end. Rudrabhsihek should end in 30 minutes so to make sure I return in time, I made a right turn. The road is now half the size of what it was earlier but the surroundings did not change. Bangles, bangles, and bangles. I wish I could open a shop for anything out of the universe and it would work here just because it would be the only shop for that item. Confused, as to why everyone would open the same shop and decrease their own margins, I decided to return back to the main road as I understood that the farther I would go, the more bangles I would see.
The lanes towards Manikarnika Ghat
I reached the main road and started walking towards Gate No. 4 of Kashi Vishwanath Temple when I spotted a large marbled gate with "Manikarnika Dwar" written in Hindi on the top. Last night I had gone to Manikarnika Ghat. Second time in my life. While the last time would be an "introduction" to this ghat at best, this time my syllabus seemed to have expanded. I stood there, just like many others, and saw the final moments of a transition that mixed a human body into dust. I saw how one man's existence burned slowly away in flames as time passed. With each second, with him, I am turning into dust as well. It is just that his transition is too explicit and too extravagant. I thought this guy, whom I saw departing his way to the heavens, must have stood here, just like me, and watched somebody else at some point in his life. What would he have thought? Would he have thought the same thing that many of us were thinking, "This is the end", or would he have realized the pettiness in daily things on which swords are pulled out in the streets? I am standing here thinking about him but someday, maybe I am at his place and somebody is thinking about me in the same way. This cycle, as the cycle of incarnation, may repeat, year after year, pyre after pyre, body after body.
I entered the Manikarnika Dwar not knowing where it would go but quite confident that I would end up at Manikarnika Ghat at the end. The roads are as congested as they were when I was walking a few minutes ago on the bangle street. But there is hardly anyone here. While the width of the road is the same, it feels larger and more spacious. This road is supported by blocked high walls of the shops on one side whose main door is on the main road while the other side has shops just like the Bangle road. There are no hotels near Manikarnika Ghat on this road. Some shops sell milk while some sell sweets. Even though this lane is the last path a human body to be lit at Manikarnika Ghat would take, the shops somehow represent the happy parts of lives, such as sweets.
The road is long and has many turns. I have been to Manikarnika Ghat twice but somehow this lane puts weight on my chest. With every turn, my chest is heavier even though I know what's about to come. I expect with every turn that this turn would be the last one and suddenly I will see the temple and the pile of wood used for burning the pyre. But these turns are endless. I cough twice on the way. Suddenly a procession walked past me at a very fast speed." Ram Nam Satya Hai", they shouted and went at a speed close to running. Why are they in a hurry? I thought at once. A living man like me is walking at the speed of a dead man while a dead man runs like a child supported by four shoulders. In a moment, another procession passed from behind me. Same chants. Same speed. I did not understand, still, why was everyone in a hurry.
Finally, the road ended on Manikarnika Ghat, and the people I saw walking past me on the road were standing just beside their respective bier. Surprisingly, there is a queue here as well. Queue for the dead. A priest comes with lit incense sticks and places them towards the head of the body. He does that for every bier in the queue. Many pyres are burning in front of me and reminds me of the thoughts I had last night. A man is standing in front of one of the pyres with his hands connected as someone would do while praying. His freshly shaved head is bowed down supported by his hands. Tall body with plump characteristics, his eyes are swollen, and wears a dhoti but nothing beneath his feet. Nobody talks at the Manikarnika Ghat. Is it out of respect for the dead? Or does nobody have any words when they see that one day they have to face the same fate? I don't know.
I walked back towards Manikarnika Dwar. My friends would have finished their prayers and must be waiting for me on the road. This time, my chest is lighter and I do not have any thoughts. I sat down in one of the shops while on the way. A board that says "Kashi's famous Laung Lata" attracted my eyes. I wanted to try that sweet as I had heard a lot about it. I ordered one and sat down with my face towards the road. Two more processions went by till I got my sweet and soon enough I got accustomed to it. The shop owners might not even hear it now, I thought. I dug into the sweet with the wooden spoon when another procession came with the same speed. It has around 10 people or maybe 12 but not more than that. How close do you have to be to qualify as someone who would travel with you till there is no difference between you and Earth? So close to the end that only 10 to 12 people qualify the criteria. The last to walk in the procession is a man with a blue t-shirt and a golden bangle in his left hand. A woman is with him. They turned their heads right and their pace slowed down. The gap between them and the procession kept increasing when the man said, "I am hungry! Are you? To which the woman said, "Yeah I am hungry too".
"Excuse me! Can I get one Laung Lata?"
The eligibility criteria to walk in a procession do not seem so tight to me now. For someone who is more worried about hunger than their relative who till this point must have been placed in the queue, this seems superficial. Are you connected by blood and never worried about the person who died? Or are you one of those who gets fed up with a person till the point that their death and final rites are just a formality to you? What brought you here? You worked so much so hard that you came to Manikarnika Ghat but stopped just 100m before? Have you seen this so much that it is just a formality for you now? How come both you and your wife are the same? I could not answer any of these questions. I thought and thought directly gazing at the man and his wife and how they ate their sweet. Sweet! Something that has to be eaten on a happy or neutral occasion. Are you that hungry that you don't even care about the person who died? Why have you come here when your respect is so little of him? I had too many questions in my mind. I might even say that I got lost in thinking about such people who are living but dead inside. My gaze still targetted the man and his wife when suddenly the hypnosis broke and I came to my senses when the same man shouted:
"Can I get two more, please?"
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