The first day at the new town, no one was there whom I called my friends, the roads, the streets, the people, everything was new for me. And I was new for them. As long as I understand the world at my own, I came to know that no one was there except me. So I enjoyed my company, and I travel, the all streets, the all temples, the all new roads and strangers, alone. And then I knew that I was really enough for me. Varanasi, the word carries an another world within itself. The erratic streets, peculiar roads full of ditches, and sometimes horribly traffic-jams, the eccentric lanes where you can either find the newly modern houses and wonderful buildings or the old, embellished small pieces of palaces. The sounds of celestial chimes, the angelic auras of vishwanath gali, the spiritual serenity wrapped in post modernism in BHU VT, the divine power hidden in Kamachcha temple, the ethereal attraction of Durga Kund, the immortal dedication for Kaal Bhairav, the eternity feelings at Dasashawmeth and Assi, Elysian embroidery on the walls of temples and old mansions, the blissful rain during “Sawan”, the heavenly pleasure in the plates of golgappe and chats, the miraculous drink of curd, that is called lassi, or the sublimity of simple chai at Lanka, the list will never going to stop. People say that love is blind, and I proved it when I told one of my friends that I love Varanasi in such a way that I adore its scary jams. It never disturbs me in any way. And I love it and it’s every part. By the time, I got so many people, perhaps because of my amiable and frank nature.
Sun was ready to set and we were stuck in search of a safe place where we cannot mess up with mass and can enjoy together, the white moon in the sky and the yellow ones in thousands of numbers, spreading at all Ghats. We were little creepy clique who were struggling to be together in the cloud of strangers. One of my juniors talked to one soldier, who were there to protect the whole event which is full of so many celebs and innocent people. That army man took us at the top roof of an old building which was free from lots of crowd but yeah we were not alone too. And we all were happy like we won a great war. We never thought that we got such a fantastic place from where we can see the all ghats, as far as our eyes can see, that pious Ganga, and the most fabulous celebration , the Dev Dipawali. There were so many saints, in their original form, in “Kesariya Choga” and all of them picked one a big deep, which was used for main aarti, “the Ganga Aarti’. All the Ghats were decorated with lot of stuffs, like an umbrella was standing through a long pole, small designs were made full of yellow flowers and small deeps, so many tiny beds or chowkis, dressed out like little, cute babies, all the stairs were shining by the glaze of uncountable deeps, maintaing an equilibrium gap, there were innumerable strings of flowers which carried aesthetic beauty. The day on which we celebrate the diwali is the “amavasya” or in english the “no moon”, but in the same month at the “purnima” which is known as “full moon” is known as “Dev Dipawali”. And in the whole India, Varanasi, is the only best place known for this festival. Kashi, which is known for its Ghats, and the shores and stairs with its serene river. When I saw at the sky, the beloved moon was smiling, and like a beautiful maiden it loves to look its shadow in that pure mirror. And along with that natural scene, the another side of Ghats, full of deeps, lightened the whole sky. The lucid chanting of all prayers vivified the whole scenario. I think, that our modern music cannot jazz up in compare to that flawless flow. Everyone was busy in clicking more and more and more pictures. But I thought how can anyone snapped those authentic, real beauties. Only our minds can do this. Some memories never need that digital camera, it all needs only eyes, which can preserve those memorable winks in our heart and mind too.
I love this small but mysterious city and I love wandering through its all streets and love to play hide and seek where I can find the hidden myself within me. I never forgot that trip, that little voyage of my life, a small boat ride from one shore to another. It was my first experience at the boat, and I was little afraid but when it get started, I enjoyed really. Especially, when I was crossing from the middle, it was soothing, full of natural beauty and undefined peace. I was lost there actually. One can say that the one piece of my little heart was left there, in the midst of flows. As my friend suggested to do like her, touching the water while seating on the boat, at first, it terrified me. Seriously, I was stupid and I thought that what will happen if I drowned there, but there was a thirst too, to touch that untouchable soul. It was cold, like a freezed water. But its simplicity attracts me, and I feel like I had touched my own pieces, scattered in the form of numberless, infinite drops. First time I love the coldness, perhaps that was the real, not the numbness of a refrigerator. My second boat trip was little different, I was not on that track, from one shore to another, rather from one ghat to other and then another and then another. There was a guide on that boat, not that Guide of R. K. Narayan but yeah he was impressive. He started to recite the stories of different Ghats, from initials to the last. I loved the Manikarnika Ghat. I thought, to take birth or to die at your selected place is not possible, but to travel those choiced chambers is in our hands. Isn’t it? At that second trip, I was alone, actually I love solitude when I try to find peace. At that previous trip I was lost. I was lost in those little drops. So I again try to recollect my dews and that’s why I touched the water again. And at that second time, I felt warmth, like a fire in cold. I regained myself. My smile spreads on my calm face, without any reasons, and I found peace beyond imagination.
I came back my home, after completing my education there. So many people said, they went back home, but left their heart at kashi. But I didn’t. I came back, with new one “I” . The more stronger, the more believer, full of more love and spirits. I don’t want now salvation, I think, the craving for the “Moksha” was ended, when I came to learn how to know myself and after that I live in present, as I think, this is the only thing which an every living thing has to do.
Written By – Roli Rastogi