Kashi and Parallel Stories!

Dreams! Can they be called a collage of memories collected from past experiences, images, visuals that makes us wander through distant, unseen lands? Of deep hidden desires, dark secrets taking shapes or maybe something more surreal like a mysterious connection with a place or a few people?

Dreams have the most fascinating existence in our lives. They look so real when we see them with closed eyes and an active sub conscious mind, so full of life and vividness at the darkest hours! Yet as the sun shines back they lose their power of being alive; the story, the unseen, unknown people, the vivid visuals, the hearty conversations, they all start getting blurred, they slowly wither away and finally simply vanish!

Once upon a time, with my body asleep and my soul completely awake, I saw this one mesmerising, mystical place! Where was I exactly is difficult to understand but from left to right I could see it all. It was dark and there I saw a river that seemed sprinkled with gold, shining bright, lit up by its bank on both sides like all the fireflies of this world gathered to celebrate something. I could manage to see the curvaceous outline adorning the banks, something closer to temples and the sound of bells and conch filled the air. As I looked at it from afar, there was some kind of spiritual beckoning that pulled me towards the place and even after decades I could draw it all and feel goosebumps as I thought of it. This was a dream I saw as a small kid, my dreams used to be my philosophical moments with myself. Not all made sense but some did. No matter how many years have passed by, I still remember many of them.

In the year 2017 I visited a place that came closest to my beautiful dreamy utopia – Varanasi. Many may think that I might have seen it somewhere before I dreamt it. Nah! Those were the days when information was not so easy and cheap. As I was growing up I saw the advent of world wide web and I had no interaction with anything close to Varanasi anywhere during my early growing up days. Hence, I believe in the power of my sub conscious mind, remembered what I saw and was ecstatic to discover it one fine day, in Varanasi. I recognised the call of my inner spirituality instantly. I found my Shangri-La!

This is not an exhibition of some jaw dropping Varanasi frames, there are many who have been and are still doing it anyways. I am not an accomplished photographer, just a collector of memories. I am not even a writer. I simply try to give shape to my thoughts through my words. In real I am nothing. Just a soul born on this planet; learning, observing, expressing, experiencing and trying to figure it all out.

My story is a collage of stories, or possible stories, because every frame of Varanasi depicts a story. That’s how expressive the place is! It's nothing but an autobiography of the various frames of Varanasi. Let’s deep dive into these frames and try to read their thoughts. Imagination has no limits!

I seek Nirvana!

I was born an ordinary person, so ordinary that I could hardly distinguish myself from the rest of the world. I was guided at every step, starting from how to walk to how to talk. I saw the grown-ups around me and learnt everything from them. I looked at the world with my curious eyes, sometimes dumbfounded by this madness around. I started growing up, trying to be one of them and yet something inside me implored me to not succumb to this baffling mirage, of more and more, the endless chase of infinite accumulation.

In the prime of my youth I set off to understand the purpose of my life, the reason of my being. I went from land to land in search of my answers and finally discovered my ultimate destination, my paradise, Varanasi. Tucked in the northern parts of India this holy land soothed my soul and quietened my mind. I adopted it as my chosen home and I became the chosen one in search of nirvana.

I dream!

I have been told since my birth that I am nothing; that this is my homeland and all these spiritual travellers are our real God, without them I am nothing!

I have been told that the world is divided into two, the rich and the poor and I am born poor and should never try to think otherwise. I have been told that the life that the rich lead can never be mine. I have been told that this boat is my world, I will start and end my life here.

But they know nothing about my dreams. They don’t know that I am secretly planning to break free from the shackles of this notion that has seeped deep into their minds, that has chained them to their boats and made them believe what the world told them since they were born.

I dream like any other kid born to a rich family. I want to go to school, where I can build newer and bigger dreams, a place that would not remind me of how I have been born and what my world should be. Instead it would be a place that would teach me to dream big, dream crazy and make me capable to achieve them. My boat will not be my world. There is a world beyond this closed world and I want to see it all.

I practice Sadhana!

Once upon a time I lived a pitiful life like you all, the miserable little mortals of this earth, running, fretting, cribbing, wanting. The vicious circle of desires and wants is nothing less than a whirlpool, it sucks you deep into the crevices of a never-ending lust. You keep going deeper and deeper into it and at the end its nothing but darkness.

It’s all Moh & Maya. It’s a dangerous world of greed and illusion. The more you are stuck to this materialistic greed and attachment, the more miseries are waiting for you. I have freed myself, I have attained Moksha.

Now I wander around, nothing can hold me to one place. Everything is flux, where I started and where I am moving towards. Some people love me and some simply fear. I am happy with whatever they shower on me. I have neither dreams nor desires. Past is dead and future holds no attraction. I live in present, today is all I have.

Ganga, my Goddess!

I add sparkle to Varanasi's aura. I was born to be a part of this glory and become the cynosure of everyone’s eyes, every day. I am peace and calm, I am dedication. I am everything that a believer seeks. I set the tone every day, every morning and every evening. The city gets back to life every day with my prayers at Subah-e-Banaras. And at the end of the day as I pray to my Goddess, asking her to forgive our flaws, to shower her kindness on us always, nevertheless how we treat her, I feel complete. With my Goddess I connect at a soul level and communicate with her in my state of trance. That’s when I feel complete.

I shine!

I was born to shine, million years ago. Some say 50 million years, but I may be older. I am life, I keep flowing. Traversing the many hurdles that come my way. As I start falling, I am young and full of life. I am restless, like a child. As I keep flowing, I keep growing. I embrace peace and calm. As I flow through holy lands, I touch my devotees and bless them all. I gift a bit of my calm to them, and we connect at soul level often. I keep flowing, I keep growing. And finally meet my end one day as I leave my form and shape to become something else, someone else.

I am Ganga. The mortals of Earth pray to me. They shower their love in ways many, and shower on me literally. It’s their love and sins that I embrace, and I have no complains. A gift is a gift, come what may. But their love sometimes suffocates me, I choke, I cry but in vain. The mortals who love me so much are so busy praying to me that they fail to see my tears. How can they see my tears? It’s never visible, it’s hidden inside me. It forms in there and blends so well with me somewhere on the way, as I keep flowing, as I keep growing.

I am Kashi, I shine. Me and Ganga, we are nothing without each other. Our glitz and glamour are intertwined with each other’s fate. We both sparkle, we both shine. I am life and death, light and darkness. I am it all, good and evil you may call. I am the city of salvation and the city of death. I am old, very old. Older than history, older than tradition as he had said.

Benaras is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend and looks twice as old as all of them put together. – Mark Twain

I am told I am India’s oldest living city. Have you seen the colours that wrap me every day? Have you seen the silhouettes of life on my lap? I am life, I am death, I am the symbol of 'circle of life'. You find redemption in my arms. You soak into the magic of my ghats and aartis. As the sound of conch shells and temple bells engulf me, I sit back and watch you all moving on with your lives. I see it all, I know it all but I simply keep watching, and smile.

This is my first story since the sad demise of a very dear friend. It's an irony that my story spoke about Varanasi, the symbol of life and death. I had started working on it long before I knew the closing paragraphs will remind me of this unforgettable pain. Long live in our memories my dear friend. Let's meet again in some other world and in my dreams.