In a few weeks I am going to visit Varanasi, one of India’s holiest cities for the first time. I have been to Agra in Uttar Pradesh, just for a day and also on another occasion visited Fatehpur Sikri. My friend, Sue, also works for a not for profit and was asked by her organization to assist in conducting career guidance workshops for children in observation homes. I am tagging along. While she takes the session, I will be taking in the city.
I have heard a lot about Varanasi. The recent central elections had two powerful contenders fighting for the same seat. The river Ganga’s cleaning, the population, the weavers were all words and phrases I kept hearing. A while earlier, during the Kumbh Mela, although being held in Allahabad, the river Ganga’s plight was much in focus. Images of priests, the devout, lamps floating in the rivers and smoke arising are what I carry as identity of Varanasi. Once in a History class, I shared with my students, that when Shivaji was proclaiming himself the king, Gagabhatt was called from Benaras to conduct the rituals. One of my weakest students’ eyes lit up on hearing the name of his home town.
I am finally going to Varanasi, with just one friend, a woman. Not with an all knowing man on whom I can blindly depend. Sue and I will travel as equals or at times, changing roles as leader and follower. Somewhere she will make the decisions and I will concede and at other places I will use my judgement. And together, we will explore. For the first time, in the city. For the first time, alone.
I have heard a lot about Varanasi. The recent central elections had two powerful contenders fighting for the same seat. The river Ganga’s cleaning, the population, the weavers were all words and phrases I kept hearing. A while earlier, during the Kumbh Mela, although being held in Allahabad, the river Ganga’s plight was much in focus. Images of priests, the devout, lamps floating in the rivers and smoke arising are what I carry as identity of Varanasi. Once in a History class, I shared with my students, that when Shivaji was proclaiming himself the king, Gagabhatt was called from Benaras to conduct the rituals. One of my weakest students’ eyes lit up on hearing the name of his home town.
I am finally going to Varanasi, with just one friend, a woman. Not with an all knowing man on whom I can blindly depend. Sue and I will travel as equals or at times, changing roles as leader and follower. Somewhere she will make the decisions and I will concede and at other places I will use my judgement. And together, we will explore. For the first time, in the city. For the first time, alone.
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