Look Here, See There

Roughly a month back, I went to Benares ( yeah I prefer the British way of saying it - colonial hangover or not, Varanasi sounds too BJP!) for a cousin's wedding. Being a family trip and that too to a place where my father was born, it doubled up as a quasi-pilgrimage of sorts. Thanks to the infamous fog of North India, we overstayed for 2 days. And thus I got the opportunity to visit the fabled ghats of Benares. On a bone-chilling evening, as we set out on a boat for the evening aarti at the Dashahvmedh ghat by the Ganga, I could alreadt hear the bells jangling my senses. As the boat approached the ghat, what we witnessed was nothing less than a theatrical performance. Some say these are disguised PR stunts of the Hindutva brigade. Maybe they are, but for those moments, even agnostics like me turn into believers. As our boat was returning, we could see the flames of funeral pyres at the Manikarnika ghat kissing the black sky. My cousin teachng in Stanford, with us in the boat, remarked: "When I was at the Manikarnika years ago for my mother's last rites, the moment was peaceful." It is today as well, just that it coexists with the frenzy. To put it simply - the lights and sounds simply shake the agony out of you. And that's just one of the aspects of Benares, even of people say its the essence.

The essence of Benares lies somewhere else - the chaos. The city lives IN it, and not the other way round. If I were a real geek, maybe I could take a shot at proving that Benares could turn Chaos Theory on its head. But, that is for another lifetime. The cycle & autorickshaws, schoolgirls on Scooties, the Tata Nanos, the BSP netas in their black SUVs  and most importantly - Lord Shiva on four feet and two horns- et al - technically a traffic nightmare. But drive once through the city and you will realise that - NO ONE, absolutely no one - is complaining. When there is so much talk about living in harmony, Benares actually seems to revel in its chaos.

The so-called jihadists have left their mark here as well, with the blast in the Sankat Mochan. Since then, the temple and its cousin - the Vishvanath - have been forced to spend a few lakhs per day to cocoon themselves in security. And again, just when you thought that was a remedy to the chaos, you will be sorely disappointed when you enter the lane leading to the temple - known popularly as the Vishvanath Gali. The numerous shops and establishments hawking everything from prasad to holy prints on T-shirts will leave you more than spellbound.

What am I trying to say? Well, part something, mostly nothing. In other words, life goes on, for us as well as the Maoists as well as the sadhus smoking up to glory. Jing-jang, ding-dong - and so it goes on. Be it the narrow lanes leading to the Benares ghats or the hand-pulled rickshaws negotiating the alleys of Kolkata, you still move on - don't you? When you find Manikarnika, Ahilyabai, Dashashvmedh, Raja Harishchandra and Prayag coalesce by the Ganga - all you can think of is - thank God for giving me this life! (even if its just this one).