Varanasi:In 1898 American author Mark Twain wrote about his visit to Varanasi: "Benares is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together."
Considered the center of the earth in Hindu cosmology and the holiest place in the world, Benares lies in the Indian state of Uttar Pradesh, 200 miles southeast of Lucknow. It is one of the oldest inhabited cities in the world.
I realized earlier this year that I hadn't really travelled outside of Chennai in the (almost) three years that I have been living here (gasp!). The first year I was trying to get used to Chennai, period. The second year, I was fortunate enough to get some wild gigs outside of the country and travel with my parents and friends around the south.
I decided this year that I would focus my attention on the north: northern cuisine, culture, and religion. For the semester holiday, I booked my ticket and pilgrimaged to Varanasi; the center of Hinduism; the religion I grew up with. We flew to Delhi and then took an overnight train to Benares. I am not quite sure what I was expecting. The city of Varanasi is revered as the center of Hinduism and given quite a bit of importance in the country - I was expecting a small ancient town, well preserved and immaculate. I expected to see a city that was protected by the public; its significance and honor maintained by government protocol. The city of Varanasi is described in both the Mahabharat and Ramayana and should be preserved as a national religious and tourist destination.
It's not. It's actually a giant heap of poverty, disillusioned temple-goers, and death.
I was told by many who went before me, that once I reached the holy city, I would feel an 'energy in the air'; that I would feel hopeful and optimistic; energized by the spirituality. I didn't. Don't get me wrong. I am not one of those westerners who criticizes everything unclean; who carries hand sanitizer in their back pocket; who brushes their teeth with aquafina, and who cringes at everything uncomfortable. But I live in Chennai and I feel the optimistic energy of Chennai on a daily basis. I did not feel that in Varanasi.
While the ghats were spectacular and extraordinarily interesting for Kavita the tourist, Kavita the Indian felt sad and lost at the sight of women and men bathing in one of the most polluted water bodies in the world. The odor of waste and the stench of death hangs low over the river. We took a canoe through the river and watched the activity: men and women washing clothes, bathing, holding poojas, throwing ashes into the water, burning dead bodies covered in orange cloth. I watched fly covered stiff corpses float by our boat and saw demonic crows pecking at dead children floating face down in the opaque brown water. And I saw the navwallas dip their hands into the same putrid water and aggressively take a sip to quench their thirst. I was simultaneously fascinated, disgusted, and impressed.
We paid Shankar-the-auto-driver (let's call him S.T.A.D.) 300 rupees a day to take us around the city for three days. We visited temples, took boats out onto the ganga, drank bang lassi, and even watched a snake charmer, but the best part of the entire trip was by far the street food.
Oh. My. God. We asked S.T.A.D. to take us to eat a typical street breakfast and he took us to eat poori bhaji at a roadside stand. Dripping with oil, the thick moist pooris were incredibly satisfying to dip into the bowl of bhaji. We ate with our hands on dishes made of dried leaves and then washed our hands with water from a bucket sans soap. The stand owners eyed us curiously as I awkwardly took pictures of the situation. We then walked across the street and ate sweet pan which was fragrant and delicious.
The trip was worth it, but I left three days later feeling unsatisfied. If you are a religious person, Varanasi might have had a different effect on you. But walking through temple lines; being squashed by hoards of people on every side of you pushing and shoving to get through, and having angry monkeys throwing food and flowers left and right, was not exactly what I consider to be a spiritual experience. Plus, because of the recent bombings and terrorist attacks on temples in Benares, the security at every temple was fierce. We were frisked, prodded, and searched thoroughly before entering. Not fun.
Next stop: Mumbai. Stay tuned.
I now spend almost every day of my life teaching - Classical repertoire, Choral, Musical Theatre, Academic skills, etc. Most of the time I forget why I do it and what it does for me. But every so often there's a moment of realization and poignant understanding of the effect and purpose of my actions. In my opinion there is a gentle balance in life. I generally strive to give back as much as I take. Yes, since I've been living in India, I have lived quite the extravagant lifestyle: 5-star dinners, tropical vacations, driving around the countryside on my moped and loving every minute of it. Sometimes I take these things for granted and more often than not, the poverty of Chennai and the modest lifestyles people lead here fill me with guilt and despair. But every now and then, I realize that I am giving back; that I do effect people on a daily basis, and that I am cultivating knowledge and talent through a universal language: Music.
