The trip to Banaras was long due. I had been dreaming about walking through the narrow lanes for a while now. Secretly, I was also hoping to find a gorgeous Banarasi saree to add to my wardrobe.
One day, while randomly texting each other about life post getting married, both Isha and I proposed that we take a short trip to Banaras. Talk about telepathy!
So there we were, with one small backpack each, boarding the overnight train to the oldest living city in India. The idea was to spend two days walking the city.
While browsing through Things to Do in Banaras lists, Isha categorically refused to go to Manikarnika Ghat, the cremation ghat. I agreed, half heartedly, though I really wanted to see the place that marks the end for upto three hundred people (or should I call them bodies?) everyday.
As luck would have it, Isha ended up being sick for the entire trip and without me wanting it, it became a solo trip of some sort.
As I walked along the Dashashwamedh Ghat, asking directions for Manikarnika Ghat, I stopped and thought if I really wanted to see dead bodies, first thing in Banaras. But that was only for a second, and I walked on.
I was wondering if I'll get to see a cremation (I wasn't aware of numbers at that point). On reaching The Ghat, I was surprised to see 3 pyres burning.
As I looked on, slightly surprised, slightly exhausted by heat, a tea seller told me, "You can sit here and watch." while pointing towards two wooden benches under a makeshift canopy one of which was occupied by three foreigners.
I don't remember how long I sat there, probably ten minutes, probably half an hour, but in that duration I must have seen at least 10-12 bodies being brought. The moment I realised I had been sitting there for long, I started getting restless, I felt weird. It was one of those times when you start thinking about death, and why should we put so much effort in so many things when one day all we end up as is a burning pyre. I was cursing Isha for being sick and had just started regretting my decision to come alone to such place when I heard a phone ringing.
It was the tea seller's phone. I did not focus on the conversation, but all I remember is that, when he hung up, he announced, "Meri gharwali ko beta hua hai!" My wife gave birth to a boy!
And then, it all made sense, Death is inevitable and so is Birth. Life came full circle, once again.
One day, while randomly texting each other about life post getting married, both Isha and I proposed that we take a short trip to Banaras. Talk about telepathy!
So there we were, with one small backpack each, boarding the overnight train to the oldest living city in India. The idea was to spend two days walking the city.
While browsing through Things to Do in Banaras lists, Isha categorically refused to go to Manikarnika Ghat, the cremation ghat. I agreed, half heartedly, though I really wanted to see the place that marks the end for upto three hundred people (or should I call them bodies?) everyday.
As luck would have it, Isha ended up being sick for the entire trip and without me wanting it, it became a solo trip of some sort.
As I walked along the Dashashwamedh Ghat, asking directions for Manikarnika Ghat, I stopped and thought if I really wanted to see dead bodies, first thing in Banaras. But that was only for a second, and I walked on.
I was wondering if I'll get to see a cremation (I wasn't aware of numbers at that point). On reaching The Ghat, I was surprised to see 3 pyres burning.
As I looked on, slightly surprised, slightly exhausted by heat, a tea seller told me, "You can sit here and watch." while pointing towards two wooden benches under a makeshift canopy one of which was occupied by three foreigners.
I don't remember how long I sat there, probably ten minutes, probably half an hour, but in that duration I must have seen at least 10-12 bodies being brought. The moment I realised I had been sitting there for long, I started getting restless, I felt weird. It was one of those times when you start thinking about death, and why should we put so much effort in so many things when one day all we end up as is a burning pyre. I was cursing Isha for being sick and had just started regretting my decision to come alone to such place when I heard a phone ringing.
It was the tea seller's phone. I did not focus on the conversation, but all I remember is that, when he hung up, he announced, "Meri gharwali ko beta hua hai!" My wife gave birth to a boy!
And then, it all made sense, Death is inevitable and so is Birth. Life came full circle, once again.
No comments:
Post a Comment