Banares is my one true ‘discovery’
Banaras. The name conjures up myriad images — holy city, Ganga, crowded, dirty, incense sticks and flowers among others. To me, Banaras is and always will be home away from home. I’ve spent 5 summers in this city as a child. And I’ve visited it countless times since then. Each time I visit, I think I’ve seen it all, that there’s nothing that can surprise me. And like magic, it does.
The city is an impossible juxtaposition of the new on the old. The narrow lanes almost creak with the traffic they have to bear. The air is filled with constant streams of, “chala ho bhaiya” (come on, move!) emanating from the rickshawallas punctuated by an occasional, reluctant moo of a cow. Songs from the latest Bollywood movie blare from loudspeakers competing with equally intense devotional music from temples. Foreigners with crisp cotton kurtas navigate the streets filled with locals wearing jeans and colorful tees. One would think that Banaras, sought after by many to die in, for liberation after death, would instill some sort of a dark, sombre, seriousness in its people. However, the city is notorious for its sense of humor and laid back pragmatism.
You cannot discover a place unless you sample its food. And Banaras does not disappoint. The local fare is delightful — from crisp kachoris, sabzi and jalebis sold pretty much in every nook & cranny to the mouthwatering chaat at places like Deena to the sweets. Oh the sweets! The sheer variety and the freshness make them irresistible — the locals have a sweet tooth, its hard not to, even as a visitor! The local paan made famous by an old song, lives up to its name.
And then there is the river. My favorite way to experience the Ganga, as I suppose it is for the millions, is in the wee hours of the morning. Grab a spot on one of the city’s many ghats or hop on a boat and wait. As the Sun casts its light on the soft, dark waters, it is as if not the city but your soul is being awakened. It is surreal.
A lot of people ask me if they should visit Banaras. In their hesitation I hear, “is it worth going? What if the city falls short of expectations, what if it is unbearably filthy?” All kinds of people come to this city — pilgrims, tourists and those who are meant to because the pull is hard to resist. Everyone sees something different, has a different experience, gains a different perspective. Among many things I’ve discovered about the city, one stands out — when you come to Banaras, you see what you want to see, you find what you seek.
