Varanasi or Kashi is the holiest of the seven sacred cities in Hinduism
and Jainism. Hindus believe that death at Varanasi brings salvation. It
is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world and the
oldest in India. Unfortunately many of its temples were plundered
and destroyed by Mohammad Ghauri in the 12th century. The temples and
religious institutions in the city now are of 18th century vintage. The
Kashi Naresh is the chief cultural
patron of Varanasi, and an essential part of all religious celebrations.
The culture of Varanasi is closely associated with the Ganges. The city
has been a cultural center of North India for several thousand years,
and has a history that is older than most of the major world religions.
The Benares Gharana form of Hindustani classical music developed in
Varanasi, and many prominent Indian philosophers, poets, writers, and
musicians live or have lived in Varanasi. Gautama Buddha gave his first
sermon at Sarnath located near Varanasi. Varanasi is the spiritual
capital of India. Scholarly books have been written in the city,
including the Ramcharitmanas of Tulsidas. Today there is a temple of his
namesake in the city, the Tulsi Manas Mandir.One of the largest
residential University of Asia Benares Hindu University is located here.
People often refer to Varanasi as "the city of temples", "the holy city
of India", "the religious capital of India", "the city of lights", "the
city of learning", and "the oldest living city on earth."Please let me share with you how I see Varanasi and how life can be in this Indian city.
According to Hindu mythology, Varanasi
was founded by Lord Shiva. The city is one of the seven sacred cities of
Hindus. It is a city surrounded by death. The biggest tourist
attraction here is to see the cremations. Hundreds of Indians arrange
tours for foreigners to where the cremations take place. Other locals
charge money to allow visitors to actually see the burning scenes from
nearby buildings.
“Pictures are not allowed here, sir, but
if you want I can take you to where you can take some. Just for 200
rupees,” I was told.
But I’ve already been here for some
time, so I continue on without any thought of the offer. If there’s one
thing I’ve noticed about this city in the time I’ve spent in India, is
that it’s chaotic.
I am staying in a room here, which
reminded me of Van Gogh’s “Bedroom in Arles”: a simple bed, one chair
and one table. The room costs around 150 Rupees (US$ 2.40). The
neighbors have a baby who cries all day long. Pairs of dogs fight down
the street. The man at the reception reads aloud all day long. It seems
like he has some problems to concentrate in silence.
There is a fan in my room; it has one
speed and barely moves. The heat is killing me. I do not sleep alone:
two mice come and go from the window and crawl around below my bed. I
share the toilet with a couple of other travelers.
The one from Spain came to Varanasi to
learn the tabla – an Indian drum similar to bongos but with varying
tones – and in the afternoon, he sometimes plays music for us.
There’s also a girl from Italy who tries
to explain to me how energies work in the body and how “chakras” – an
energy center in the human body. She explains that there are seven
chakras and it is taught in Indian yoga. It doesn’t matter how many
times I say I’m not interested in energy or spiritual ways, she persists
and is convinced that I must find “the way”.
The
street in front of my hotel is under construction. During the nights,
men from the Musahar caste – one of the lowest one in India – work all
night trying to fix the mess around. I wonder how many more days they
will need to construct 50 meters of road.
In all of this, I find sanctity in waking up before sunrise to go photograph this world.
Just on the corner from my hotel there
is an old guy selling chai (Indian tea), and a few meters from him there
is another man selling tobacco. My routine is to have one tea and speak
with the man for a couple of minutes. The conversation is always the
same and tends to be short. It ends when the tea ends, and I move on.
Sometimes when passing the tobacco guy,
he says that it looks like I have some problems and suggests that I do
some yoga and meditation.
“I can take you to the best teacher in town!” he shouted once.
“I do not have any problem. Thanks for the offer, brother” I said.
Walking down into the old town in
Varanasi is a paradise for capturing photographs. The environment is
mad. There are cows all over the place. One day I was on my way to have a
lassi (a typical Indian yogurt-based drink), but just before I turned
around the corner some people ran passed me heading the opposite
direction . Apparently a cow had gotten angry and wasn’t allowing anyone
to pass through the street. I asked the owner of the lassi shop, who
told me someone pushed down the cow’s head too hard, which made it
angry.
In the midst of all of this, it’s really
the dogs and monkey who own Varanasi. Every street has a gang of dogs
and every roof has a gang of monkeys. Whoever decides to cross the
invisible borders between has my pity: it is a war to the death. A stick
is therefore a fundamental weapon in every shop in town. Dogs and
monkeys know this and will try to keep far away from the most dangerous
animal: the human being. You’ll even see people hitting dogs or monkeys
on a daily basis.
Some afternoons I like to go up to the
roof and see how groups of monkeys start moving from roof to roof. A
fight is inevitable. While monkeys run and jump here and there, human
beings take stones and sticks to prevent monkeys from jumping into their
houses.
The atmosphere is strange, yet it’s hard
to get tired of it. Despite the craziness of this city, it is easy to
find places to chill out and relax. My favorite place for example, is
the roof at my guesthouse, where the sunrises and sunsets are
spectacular.
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