Taking the Leap

Varanasi can’t be seen, it can only be felt. To experience the city in all of its beautiful chaos is to be assaulted by all 6 senses – sight, hearing, smell, taste, feel and of course the Hindu 6^th sense – the mind. Every night I spent in the city, I went to bed wondering if what I had experienced was real, or if it was only a dream and will I wake up from this upon rising?

I flew in from Chennai, famished and I shared a meal on the way in from the airport with my uber driver. We stopped at a road side “hotel” for paneer and chapati in tomato sauce (one of the best meals of my stay). He dropped me off on the side of the old city street, instructing me that, the guest house was down the alley way and inaccessible to car. Being asked to get out of the car, half a kilometer from the guesthouse, down a dark alleyway, in a new city, at 11pm at night, didn’t sit right, but there was no other feasible option.

As I walked down the maze of alleyways and trying my best to pretend I that all was okay. I narrowly avoid a cow marching forward through the filthy alley. Next, a pack of stray dogs begins barking defensively, as I approach the corner I can see that they are defending a litter. After scaring them off with the only thing I have accessible – a yoga mat, I finally make it to my alley hotel at the Rajasthan Inn. I am shaking in disbelief of where I am. Sidhartha brings me to the 3rd floor room, where the walls are covered with graffiti. The only furniture is two twin beds pushed together on the hard marble floor. The bathroom is down the hall. This is my first day of “solo” travel.

I wake up in disbelief of where I am, but I’ve hired a tour guide for the morning and its time to mobilize. I take to the river walk, where I make my way to meet my guide at Assi ghat. Rituals are being practiced by groups of priests on the various gnats which lead down into the Ganges river. These ancient steps artfully represent a journey the soul must take from birth to liberation. Men are bathing themselves in the turbid, brown water of the Ganges, (an act prioritizing devotion over health) in order to purify themselves and wash away bad karma. Another moment of disbelief. I find, Hamanshu; I am famished and scattered. Again shaking, I ask if we can stop for food and he takes me for Subji and Puri – an amazing, savory potato curry with crispy, fried flour rounds to match. It is amazing to instantly feel my anxieties quell. Next is Dada chai for the smooth and creamiest chai tea I have had to date. Now I am ready to see this city!

I come to understand that this is believed to be the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world, dating back before 1^st century BCE. The architecture is completely different with every ghat we pass. Ranging from Arabian domes, to spiring towers with geometric patterns. It is a walk unlike any other. We walk by Manikarnika gnat, where I see a car sized pile of wood, burning on the river bank; as I look closer, I see two human feet appearing from the blaze. This is a holy city and on these banks, cremation of the deceased will lead to Moksha or spiritual liberation from birth and death. Something so powerful you can’t look away. It pulls your attention from the world, and a sudden realization occurs; this life is finite, a gift, and sooner or later, we all will be burned in the fires or buried in the ground.

We continue our walk past the Kashi Vishwanath temple and visit the Nepali temple. Here, the shiva lingum is housed in a wooden Nepali style temple. The city continues to surprise.

 On my walk back to the guest house, I reflect. I am in the city of Shiva. The fire of consciousness is all around me, and my ego is struggling. The ancient alleyways, are more friendly in the daytime with homestays and shops sell silks, snacks, mala beads, chai, and travel agents. The cobblestones are still a field of landmines, with everything from cow to human shit. Nothing is okay, but everything is okay. This is a different version of life than the one I have had for the past 34 years. I meet a Croatian woman who has renounced everything to realize universal consciousness. It’s a reminder that with the path to true self realization is in surrender.

Day 2 in the city of Kashi, Hamanshu picks me up and we head to the ghat for a sunrise boat ride. Through the smoggy sky, the orange sun reflects over the Ganga. The city comes awake and architecture is beautiful. He takes me to Benares university – the largest university in Asia. Then to the Kaal Bhairva temple, the dark faced avatar of shiva, who protects Varanasi from I don’t know who, and I don’t want it to be me. It is only with his blessing that the city is safe. In the temple, there is frantic devotion as an sea of people compete for entry to the central sanctum that houses Bhairvas silver-faced idol. I give my garland offering and move to the exit. Finishing the morning with lassi, this has been fast and intense. I feel raw and ready to leave but something tells me that there is still more to see.

I want to see the famous Aarti, so I invite my new Russian Friend Aleksandra to Assi ghat to watch the fire ritual with me. The flames burn and shiva is invoked with symbolism at every level. It’s coordinated, sad, beautiful, and auspicious. On the walk back, the burning ghat is ablaze again and the fires pull me in like a tractor beam. I want to walk away but this unlike anything. Dark smoke alongside families of the deceased with multi-faced grief ranging from solemn to frantic. Its visceral and somewhere in this moment, I begin to feel numb. I should leave, this is not for me and after minutes of emotionless observation, I get up. We continue to walk, and another Shiva temple calls us inside with more mystery. “Sitaram, Sitaram” can be heard echoing from the mouth of a singing Sadu. Its resigned, honest, loving, full of surrender.

I found the city difficult to be in and easy to miss. When it came time to pack, I decided that I needed another few days; I had not experienced enough to know. I did leave the old city after 3 night, and sought solace in the nearby town of Sarnath. This is a quiet suburb known for the UNESCO world heritage  where the Buddha is believed to have given his first teaching after his enlightenment at Bohd Gaya. Here, I stayed Mohit’s Guest House and met fellow travelers, Pascal and Julian.

On my final night in the city, I met Hamishu for dinner at his family’s home. It was tucked deep inside a narrow lane off a street overflowing with life and chaos. His mother cooked a traditional Indian meal and I felt an undertone of solemnity. He told me he learned English in high school. His only real window to connect with travelers like me, to hear stories from a world he’s never seen. And as he shared his life with sincerity, the contrast between our realities landed.

I realized how unbelievably lucky I am. Lucky to have grown up in a place with social and financial mobility. Lucky to have had private education. Lucky to spend my life in nature, to play sports, to run freely, to breathe clean air. Lucky that I can walk away from work and explore the world on my own terms. Lucky that I even have the desire to pursue spirituality, reflection, and adventure, because desire itself is a privilege.

It hit me so hard I felt tears in my eyes. All that I’ve experienced here in just four days; intensity, beauty, discomfort, humanity. I get to leave. I get continue a life filled with choices. That awareness makes me feel like I owe something to the world. Maybe not in a grand, heroic way, but in a true way.  I feel a commitment to live with integrity, to serve where I can and to stay awake.

Varanasi didn’t just show me life and death. It showed me myself through a different mirror. I’m leaving with a heart that feels cracked open, humbled, and grateful.