banaras

i visited banaras many years ago, for conducting research. i was there for three days, i think. i was really looking forward to seeing it, given all that i'd heard about the place...the centre of hindu spirituality, the ghats, the ganga, sarnath, banaras hindu univ. the city itself was like any other small-town or semi-urban indian city - crowded streets, gaily decorated shops, blaring horns...the usual. what bothered me was the ganga.

i'd been to the ganga (dip et al) as a child, but i have only a vague recollection of it. this time around, i was curious and excited...i got there an hour before the 6 pm aarti, so i could walk around and explore the place, and soak it all in. i saw more plastic bags floating on the river than those washed up on juhu beach, and all sorts of rubbish...bits of saffron-coloured cloth, tiny packets of haldi and kumkum, threads, the odd glass bangle, etc. parts of the river looked abused, not just filthy. and i was saddenend. my naive self had visualised a beautiful blue flowing river that laughed along it's way, and here it was, a grey water-body burdened and slowed by waste. i recoiled.

after a while, i got over it. and the aarti was immensely enjoyable, though i knew none of the bhajans or chants. it was a lovely atmosphere, the men with their peaceful faces, the women with their bright saris and flowers, the kids standing around, half praying, half distracted. my mind kept rushing back to the plastic bags, and i tried hard to erase the memory. after the aarti was over, people set afloat their offerings to the ganga...little baskets of lit diyas and flowers, and sometimes, coconuts. and yes, they all took a dip. i stood there feeling stupid: part-cringing, part amazed, part irritated. cringing, at how one could dip in such dirty water, which would surely breed illness. amazed, at how it didn't seem to disturb the devotees at all, at how they calmly went about it, assisting their children. and irritated, at my inability to feel that devotion.

before i knew it, the sun had set, and the ganga took on an entirely different avataar. the river was now a beautiful black body, breathing softly, sparkling where it caught the moonlight, sequined with the diyas flickering in the breeze. the voices around were somehow softer than before the aarti had begun, with kids laughing and parents directing them towards the main pandit to touch his feet. others splashed water from the river on their face, and swept the remaining dampness of their hands on their head.

i stood there, considering doing the same. a part of me screamed out in protest and revulsion, and my eyes could see nothing but floating plastic bags. with a lot of effort, the other part of me pushed aside the ugly memory, and i re-focused on the beauty around me. and suddenly, with lightning speed, i bent down towards the river, cupped water in my hands and did what the others had been doing.

PS: post inspired by the movie 'banaras' which i watched last night.