Kashi

 Dear Life,

You have amazing ways of giving us exactly what we need...not always what we want, but what we need to experience, grow, learn, and evolve.

Nearly twenty years ago, I read a line in Faith and Fire by Madhu Tandon: "When life demands it, the call will come." That sentence has quietly travelled with me through the years. Whenever life surprises me with an experience I didn't see coming, it reminds me that perhaps there is an unseen intelligence at work.

So, what did Varanasi....Kashi, the city of Mahadev....mean to me?

It began with the ghats. Sitting at Tulsi Ghat, looking at Maa Ganga, gratitude simply poured out. Nothing extraordinary happened. Yet everything felt extraordinary.

There is something magical about the streets of old cities. The tiny paan shops, steaming chai, the familiar call of "Chai garam!" echoing through the lanes. I often wonder how many lives have been gently stitched together over those cups of tea. Sometimes all we really need is a place where someone listens.

Which, by the way, made me think..."Banaras Ki Chai" in Chandigarh..Business idea? Or simply an excuse to gather people over endless conversations? If someone wants to invest, I'll happily do the tasting!

The Shayan Aarti at Kashi Vishwanath wasn't merely an event. It was an experience.As the temple resonated with the chant,

"करपूरगौरं करुणावतारं संसारसारं भुजगेन्द्रहारम्।

सदा वसन्तं हृदयारविन्दे भवं भवानीसहितं नमामि॥"

something within simply became quiet.It wasn't the rhythm of the bells or the synchronized clapping of hundreds of devotees. It was as if the mind slowly stopped negotiating with itself. For a few precious moments, there was nothing to fix, nothing to understand.....only presence.

Some experiences refuse to become words.

As Kabir ji beautifully reminds us,

"मन मस्त हुआ फिर क्या बोले।"

Walking around the ghats, the guides immediately recognised I wasn't a local. Their wonderfully mixed accents somehow knew before I spoke.

At Harishchandra Ghat, while I stood silently watching a cremation, one gentleman cheerfully said,"Mini cremation, Madam. I can show you a bigger one."Only in Banaras can humour and mortality stand side by side without making either uncomfortable.

Standing before the fire, one question quietly arose.

Thousands of scriptures.Countless mantras.So many traditions, institutions and beliefs.Can anyone truly tell us where we go?

Do we build faith...Or does faith slowly build us?

Varanasi did not hand me answers.

It gifted me perspective.

I came back carrying the energy of the temples, the serenity of Maa Ganga, conversations over chai, and the warmth of friends...the kind of friends who feed you, insist you eat just one more kachori, become unofficial tour guides, argue over the best chai, disappear when it's time to pay the bill 🤣 and somehow still convince you they're the reason your trip was memorable!

When I returned home, my mother asked,"What did you like most about Varanasi?"

I smiled."Mummy, there's something deeply humbling about Varanasi."

"What?"

"It makes you reflect on life."

And perhaps that is the invitation...greatest gift.

Because a grateful thought is itself a prayer.

हर हर महादेव।

पार्वतीपतये नमः।