Friday 21 November 2014

Solitude and bliss

“We need to escape into open solitudes, into aimlessness, into the moral holiday of running some pure hazard, in order to sharpen the edge of life, to taste hardship, and to be compelled to work desperately for a moment at no matter what.”- George Santayana

Solitude and bliss?  Have you experienced that? That state of complete mental, physical and every other kind of contentment. That is exactly how I felt sitting on the Ghats for the last time (at least for a very long time) staring at the reflective waters of the Ganges. Life continued to move forward, at its usual pace, boatmen calling out to passersby, small kids selling diyas, but for me it seemed to have slowed down, almost to a standstill.  For hours I just sat there, pondering about everything that I had learnt on this 10 day journey and believe me when I say this, there was a lot to take away. And while this journey has not transformed me into a more mature, spiritually enriched version of myself it has had a huge impact on me. I learnt through this journey not to be so quick to judge, to see life not only through one lens but several others. I learnt that what I as an outsider, considered a problem may not have been not a problem to the local inhabitants of this place at all.  And while I yet am an agnostic I learnt through observation what an impact faith and belief can have on people, to believe in something so strongly that nothing anyone says can deter you.

Exhaustion Overridden




My eyes were filled with sleep and exhaustion having disembarked on our journey at 3 am! Yet as soon as we got into the car, to head towards the city, they were suddenly wide open trying to drink in my surroundings all at once, the cow-driven cart, the women walking with their heads covered, the sweet shop with huge flies sitting on the sweets, the tongas, brick houses, the narrow lanes and finally Banaras Hindu University. Excitement was keeping my blood pumping and preventing me from falling asleep. I had just read Pico Iyer’s “Why we travel?” in which he says, We travel, initially, to lose ourselves; and we travel, next, to find ourselves. We travel to open our hearts and eyes and learn more about the world than our newspapers will accommodate. We travel to bring what little we can, in our ignorance and knowledge, to those parts of the globe whose riches are differently dispersed. And we travel, in essence, to become young fools again — to slow time down and get taken in, and fall in love once more.” .  His words hold so much power, so much truth and keeping his words fresh in my mind I planned to do exactly that, to become a young fool again, here in the City of Lights.













As we ventured into the city, we explored its culture and tried to get to know the people, and then finally saw the breath –taking River Ganga and the innumerous Ghats. We saw men, women, girls and boys of all age groups bathing in the Ganga. What a bittersweet moment that was for me, to see their utter devotion and yet the heart wrenching sight of them polluting the holy river. Throughout our walk, we were flocked with boatmen, tonga riders and rickshaw walas. One rickshaw driver told us about the HUGE festival, Dev Depawali that was going to take place in a few days, another told us about the uniform that was now mandatory for them to wear along with a tag which had all their personal details on it. He spoke about how it was going to be beneficial for women as they would feel safer now. All these encounters with the local people of Banaras got me thinking a lot about how they as locals perceived us tourists/outsiders. It raised a lot of questions in my mind. Were they only glorifying Varanasi to sugarcoat it for us? Were they actually so very proud of their ancient city? Were they being genuine when they so warmly received us or just putting on an act for fear of criticism? And I set out to find an answer to all my questions.
It was truly interesting to observe the lifestyle of the people of Varanasi, both in the city and on the Ghats. (Yes, there is a lot of difference in the lifestyle in the two areas). I went around asking people about their livelihood and their outlook on the tourists that come to visit their city. Initially I was bundle of nerves, not knowing how to approach them without being too outright or offensive. Aur toh aur meri hindi itni achi hai ki kya batau( note: Sarcasm) . We spoke to a boatman, Lalla, a coconut seller, Rahul, an old shopkeeper, a seventeen year old chai wala, Rahul, two college girls, Priya and Priyanka and many others. Each had their own take on Varanasi, the Ganga and its pollution, the tourists. While the younger generations were very transparent in their answers and accepted the truth of the polluted Ganga, the slightly older generation tried to be more subtle about it. But they all had one thing in common, their utter love and devotion for the city and the warmth they exuded towards the tourists. Many had been to other parts of India and some even the world but they never found a reason to leave their beloved city.  And although not all of them went regularly to the Ganga their faith in it was unbounded. When asked what they think about the tourists that come to Varanasi, one replied, “Arey abhi toh angrezo ka season chal raha hai”, another said, “ Aane chahiye na, kyu nahi aane chahiye? Humari maa ko dekhne ke liye sab ko aana chahiye”.(Of course they should come, why shouldn’t they? They should all come to our Mother (Ganga)) I also asked them whether Varanasi sustained itself only due to tourism, to which they proudly answered no, and although tourism was a large part of their income, it was largely self-sustaining city.


As I mentioned earlier I did not know how to approach the people for fear of offending them and initially I did just that. I would ask questions that were too direct and would make the person feel a little uncomfortable. But I got the solution to my problem soon.  In one of the many sermons by my facilitator Narendra, he spoke about Empathythe experience of understanding another person's condition from their perspective”. It is then that I began understanding where I was going wrong, I was looking it from an outsider’s perspective, therefore being very judgmental. I then changed tact and tried putting myself in their show and VOILA!! I started getting much more personal answers. It then became a wonderful experience talking to the locals of Varanasi.

Introduction



“Are there not many holy places on this earth?

Yet which of them would equal in the balance one speck of Kashi’s dust?
Are there not many rivers running to the sea?
Yet which of them is like the River of Heaven in Kashi?
Are there not many fields of liberation on earth?
Yet not one equals the smallest part of the city never forsaken by Shiva.
The Ganges, Shiva, and Kashi: Where this Trinity is watchful no wonder here is found the grace that leads one on to perfect bliss”
(KKh 35. 7- 10)
“The City of Light”, “The Never-Forsaken”, “The Forest of Bliss”, “The city of Shiva”, these are one of the few multitude of names that the 5000 year old city has been bestowed with. Nothing can sum up Varanasi better than the poem mentioned above. This microcosm of religion and spirituality, holds many secrets and a deep rooted past beneath all the usual city noise, chaos and hurly burly. One is truly left in a trance like state after visiting this magnificent city for there is so much to absorb from it. Our college trip to Banaras was filled with insight and learning that city had to offer.(And well, fun and mischief, of course.)

This holy city in all its glory is the place where the majestic Mother Ganga flows, where Buddha once taught, where a thousand temples, ashrams and universities have been built, where Lord Shiva, the destroyer, resided. It is the city where people from all over the world come to dip in the Ganges to wash away all their sins, to attain moksha or salvation. It is the city of sadhus, sanyasis and devotees. It is the city where a number of religions have emerged through a process of degeneration and recuperation. It is a vibrant city where you can have your fill of chaat, banarasi paan and the most amazing lassi you would have ever tasted without it burning a hole in your pocket. (Ah, nostalgia is hitting my tummy and me hard right now).


Well, no, this splendid city is not perfect; it has its own set of flaws, uncontrolled noise and water pollution, black market trade, “dhongi babas”. And yet, I think the point of our journey was not to be critical or judgmental about this place, but to take in all that it had to offer. The good and the bad and become an integral part of it.