Modi, Blue Lassa, Manikarnika And Moksha
Varanasi may be Prime Minister Narendra Modi's political constituency But try as he might, di cannot, in his wildest dreams, me even within a whisker of the city's smacking splendour. For VaranasiKashi, Banaras-as Mark Twain narked, "is older than history, er than tradition, older even than end, and looks twice as old as all of m put together." But that's not all, for a lot of Ganga flowed under the bridge since aim’s era. You have western fast joints and ice-cream parlours in a that is known to dish out perhaps best street food ever, so what if it is vegetarian. Varanasi has been ting for years, foreign visitors who ek here from around the world-if to gaze in amazement athe ning pyres, to enjoy and savour the gracious Ganga Atari, to get a taste of the serene and deeply cultural ambience of the Banaras Hindu University, to experience first-hand the hallowed traditions and rituals in Kashi's myriad temples and take back with them some of the surreal insights either offered to them casually by the dozens of sadhus dotting the Ghats or from self-revelatory experiences that are inevitable when you experience Shiva's city. I, too, had one such close encounter here. Determined to partake of Kashi's legendary chat fare, i rushed through chowk area and narrow gullies that lead to the famous Banaras Ghats by the Ganga where, i am told, you get the most authentic chat so special to Varanasi. But i fail to pay attention to the information that all chaat shops open only in the evening and stay open till late night. Ihad an evening flight to catch, and so made for second best-the kathor stallina grubby street corner close by that was handing out freshly made aalu bhaaji and kachori and piping hotjalebis. Just a few minutes ago i had relished one earthen cup full of mouth-watering, creamy pomegranate lassi at the Blue Lassi stall, where you can choose from some 50 flavours and garnishings. But i would stand up each time i heard the chant, 'Ram naam satya hai from a procession of fast walkers carrying a corpse packed tight on a bamboo bed, covered with shiny golden cloth. Before you could say 'lassi' they disappeared like a shooting star, presumably headed for the cremation spaces on the Manikarnika Ghat, rushing to secure a place in the queue for moksha for o their ALu deceased relative. And in the 20 odd minutes that i sat there, sipping lassi, isaw at least five such processions file past in quick succession. For 'lassiwallah' Bikki Yadavwho ibusy beating yoghurt and creating littlassi masterpieces in earthen pots thathe hands out to his largely foreign clientit is business as usual, despite the factthat when the dead filed past him, he wasjust an arm's length from them. "Doesn't all of this affect you?" I ask ofhim, expecting a deeply philosophical answer. "Huh? Oh no, it does not matter.When i persist, he says, grinning fromear to ear: "No, it does nothing to me, tosee death at such close quarters; habitho gaya (it has become a habit)."
DISCLAIMER:
The views expressed in the Article above are Narayani Ganesh kashmiribhatta.in is not in any way responsible for the opinions expressed in the above article. The article belongs to its respective owner or owners and this site does not claim any right over it.
Courtesy : Narayani Ganesh Speaking Tree ,Times of India
Modi, Blue Lassa, Manikarnika And Moksha
Varanasi may be Prime Minister Narendra Modi's political constituency But try as he might, di cannot, in his wildest dreams, me even within a whisker of the city's smacking splendour. For VaranasiKashi, Banaras-as Mark Twain narked, "is older than history, er than tradition, older even than end, and looks twice as old as all of m put together." But that's not all, for a lot of Ganga flowed under the bridge since aim’s era. You have western fast joints and ice-cream parlours in a that is known to dish out perhaps best street food ever, so what if it is vegetarian. Varanasi has been ting for years, foreign visitors who ek here from around the world-if to gaze in amazement athe ning pyres, to enjoy and savour the gracious Ganga Atari, to get a taste of the serene and deeply cultural ambience of the Banaras Hindu University, to experience first-hand the hallowed traditions and rituals in Kashi's myriad temples and take back with them some of the surreal insights either offered to them casually by the dozens of sadhus dotting the Ghats or from self-revelatory experiences that are inevitable when you experience Shiva's city. I, too, had one such close encounter here. Determined to partake of Kashi's legendary chat fare, i rushed through chowk area and narrow gullies that lead to the famous Banaras Ghats by the Ganga where, i am told, you get the most authentic chat so special to Varanasi. But i fail to pay attention to the information that all chaat shops open only in the evening and stay open till late night. Ihad an evening flight to catch, and so made for second best-the kathor stallina grubby street corner close by that was handing out freshly made aalu bhaaji and kachori and piping hotjalebis. Just a few minutes ago i had relished one earthen cup full of mouth-watering, creamy pomegranate lassi at the Blue Lassi stall, where you can choose from some 50 flavours and garnishings. But i would stand up each time i heard the chant, 'Ram naam satya hai from a procession of fast walkers carrying a corpse packed tight on a bamboo bed, covered with shiny golden cloth. Before you could say 'lassi' they disappeared like a shooting star, presumably headed for the cremation spaces on the Manikarnika Ghat, rushing to secure a place in the queue for moksha for o their ALu deceased relative. And in the 20 odd minutes that i sat there, sipping lassi, isaw at least five such processions file past in quick succession. For 'lassiwallah' Bikki Yadavwho ibusy beating yoghurt and creating littlassi masterpieces in earthen pots thathe hands out to his largely foreign clientit is business as usual, despite the factthat when the dead filed past him, he wasjust an arm's length from them. "Doesn't all of this affect you?" I ask ofhim, expecting a deeply philosophical answer. "Huh? Oh no, it does not matter.When i persist, he says, grinning fromear to ear: "No, it does nothing to me, tosee death at such close quarters; habitho gaya (it has become a habit)."
DISCLAIMER:
The views expressed in the Article above are Narayani Ganesh kashmiribhatta.in is not in any way responsible for the opinions expressed in the above article. The article belongs to its respective owner or owners and this site does not claim any right over it.
Courtesy : Narayani Ganesh Speaking Tree ,Times of India