Memories of Varanasi

I write from Pokhara and yet another change of pace. I am at the end of the fifth week of my journey now and I keep being struck at how time is both moving fast and slowly. It seems like a lifetime ago that I was in Varanasi - two weeks can be a long time when you are travelling. Each place I have been is such a different world from the last, it is as though I keep stepping into a new realm, those other places fading from reality.


Varanasi really is another world though. It is not like any place I have been before and certainly doesn't feel like it is in this modern age other than the existence of mobile phones. The heavy weight of spirituality that hangs in the still and humid air translated into a kind of mystical magic from my non-religious vantage point. Mishra Guest House was at the top of the stairs from Manikarinika Ghat - just along from the Burning Ghat. I could sit for hours at the chai stall at the bottom of the stairs, watching the daily life go past, or as was often the case, simply sit around.

The old city is a winding labyrinth of narrow alleys for which there appears to be no map. Cows and motorbikes vie for room. Wide windows open directly onto shops where keepers sit cross-legged surrounded by their wares - in the busier areas selling tourist trinkets and fabrics, but further away just household necessities, spices, grains, chai, curd and garlands of flowers for devotees to take to the temples or little shrines that are everywhere.

The classic thing to do, of course, is to go out on a boat on the Ganga either for sunrise, sunset or to watch the ceremony at the main ghat which occurs every single night. My friends from the chai stall, Meshi and Amar, took me out on the boat for the ceremony which I had thus far missed. The most interesting thing about that experience was the sheer number of people in attendance. The main ghat was crammed with people sitting all over the stairs and generally anywhere that they could view the spectacle. We pulled up in the boat next to other boats already in place. As we sat, more and more boats joined us, wedging us in as spectators (mainly devotees there to pray, chant and clap out of time) amassed on all sides. The ceremony itself was visually a pleasure - two shows actually running alongside each other in tandem to accommodate the crowd - six men on plinths in shining robes doing a relatively synchronised series of rituals which seemed to involve a lot of large candelabra-type things being waved in circles. There was music, candles, chanting - and the people in the boats alongside us, many of whom where deep in prayer, completely mesmerised. There was a man with a video camera on a tripod in the boat behind. I can't imagine how steady that could have been.

After the show, we rowed back to Manikarinika Ghat. It was so beautiful on the river, if it weren't for the incessant bother from mosquitos I could have stayed there for hours gazing at the few lights of the old city that were on reflected in the water. (Varanasi has serious electricity issues with power outages for long intervals on a nightly basis. Most guest houses and restaurants have backup power to deal with it).

Once we'd returned the boat we set off for the second show of the evening - "Prince", the latest Hindi film out. This was my first Bollywood experience and apparently it wasn't a great example, but nonetheless, I was entertained. A cross between James Bond, a martial arts movie and an MTV music video, it certainly held my attention, especially considering that most of it was in Hindi. One of my favourite things about this was the tray that came with the snacks we bought at intermission (yep, there was an intermission halfway through). It brought to mind the trays you see in 50s movies that attached to the sides of cars at the drive-in movies. This tray, which held three drinks and the vegetable pastries, cleverly slotted into the cup holder in the seat. Brilliant! It was a weird contrast to be in this air-conditioned and relatively plush (comfy, reclining chairs) theatre after the oppressive night heat and dark and dirty rawness of the night in the old city.

In some ways, as we wound our way back through the maze, me trailing behind with my headlamp (if you are born there it appears you can also see in the dark), it was a relief to be back in the heat and the cow dung strewn alleys, the sounds of holy women chanting on the riverside and the soundtrack of what feels like medieval urban life. This cinematic landscape is better than any film.