Little did I know that a mere passing thought on my way to college will plan my extended weekend in the most impulsive, unplanned and visceral manner, far-far away from home. I am yet to acknowledge what boosted me that fine day when I hooked on the train to Banaras, even though I had left home for college. There is nothing more gratifying than now sitting in solace, retracing the itinerary that was created, ruined and lived by own self.
”No money, no contacts” I was perennially asking myself but my every step ahead was giving a fitting reply to the doubts. Reaching the station I told my heart, no backing off now. I had to make the last minute call to my mom who was quite perplexed how Banaras came out of the blue. My mother slipped across a pact, letting me go on one condition that I would attend all the family weddings that are lined up once I will be home. My answers did not go beyond affirmation. Things seem easy, right? Wrong. Voilà, General bogie. Scorned by a few but travelled by way many. This was a moving experience as one could see a unique kind of national unity. Empathy, they tell, is all about getting into someone’s shoes. Honestly, those shoes hurt grievously. As the train took on the tracks I had moments when I wanted to deboard but the slideshow of the glimpses engaged me throughout. A man offered his bucket to sit for an hour, sat on somebody’s bags for a while. Everybody was touching somebody. We were all a big, congested family trying to make things better to survive.
After an acute struggle of 13-14 hours I fell upon Banaras at 3 in the morning. Narrow lanes which will going to burst with chaos and life in a few hours, were sleeping like an aloof child then. This was exactly how I wanted to catch it on first account. I was glad to see my God safe inside the mandir which was on high security. Although I couldn’t find god in the temple, I discovered traces of true humanity in a cop outside the mandir who took care of my bags as I could not afford the lockers given by the Prasad shopkeepers. I was highly humbled when he said that he saw his son in me and came ahead to help. He showed me the way to ghats- I didn’t know then that those ghats would captivate me for ever.
The moment I reached ghats I could see the sky swallowing the ganga, a shimmering fine line of sand struggling to do them apart. My arrival had shaken the sleep of the ghats and sky adamantly started showing the hundreds of shades of blue. I was lost, drained and thirsty although the vast Ganga was busy cleansing the souls, I was sitting there in the mud of fatigue. As the time passed by and an energy started seeping in. Even after a fulfilling meal, a humungous hunger was impelling me to ramble expecting no aim. Later, I found it was right, Banaras is too enormous of a character to be explored, losing yourself is best you can do. I remember the vibrations which risen while hymning “OM”, settled in rhythm with bells , each molecule was resonating to its potential. My quest took me to this eccentric sadhu baba called ‘Pandey Baba’ . He was an unconventional saint, wears ray bans, had a skeleton tattoo on the arm, sings Bryan Adams in his Banarasi lingo. He assured me that I had nothing to worry and could live with them and eat what they eat.
I would spend hours sitting at the tea stall at Manikarnika Ghat where death seemed like a celebration. That ghat never cease to impart Nirvana to lifeless bodies. Pandey Baba,amid of all the off-the-wall conversations, shared some pearls of wisdom. He said “The rage of Banaras is to live in the present” by rage he meant the spirit. And that moment I was basking in the present, had no clue how I ended up there, not caring enough how will I return!
On that tea stall called DOG( Do Only Good) I met a lot of fellow travellers, made some friends. It was inspiring to listen to their stories how they had been travelling for years across the globe. Intermittently the sadhus would start off with their chilam and the buck would stop at me. Although I was already spell bound by the enchanted ghats, I could not deny the strong stuff. You get the most beautiful chilams in Banaras ;)
I did not sleep that night too, ”a nomad is in making” they joked. I was imbibing as much as I could and sleep was certainly in my hand. The other day I asked Pandey Baba that I haven’t slept for almost two-three days, haven’t eaten much, my shoes are broken, how this place is sustaining me, how these ghats holds this incredible energy. He says, it is all perspective, you’ve brought the energy, it is your reflection that you’re seeing around. I was dumbstruck. Hit strong.
Banaras did not want to part ways. Those three days at the ghats had given me life long experiences which I knew that I would cherish till death. Finally, I reached the station only to know that I had missed the last train though I had bought the ticket. With that I was drained to mere ₹130, ‘Dilli door tha’. I bought a little book “Socialism to Sarvodaya” which costed ₹10 from an exhibition at the railway station. Mulling the ways to reach home in 100 bucks. Some wise man told me that there must be a lot of trains from Allahabad. So I had no option but to play the last gamble to reach home, boarded a bus to Allahabad that costed Rs.114, on my way I was telling myself that need not buy any tickets from Allahabad as I had bought it from Banaras but couldn’t board the train, so technically IR owes me a ride. The bus dropped me at Allahabad bus stop. I can vividly recall that vital moment when I was on the stretch towards the railway station with Rs.6 in pocket, humming my favourite song in the middle of that deserted road at 11 in the night. One of the most empowering moment, when you pick yourself up from regular lives and put yourself into challenges where you’re facing off the life at its best, it goes beyond just adventure. Those 3 kms will be remembered for a long time to come. Fortunately, I got a train from Allahabad, again a general bogie. This time there were no buckets or bags but the people around me gave me immense power to sustain those 12-13 hours, pushing my body way beyond.
If they could face it, if half of India travels like that, why can’t I?
After surviving an extended weekend, creating memories of lifetime in ₹750 I can say that we have entrenched the fact that world revolves around money way deep within. When the bubble bursts: “Damn! It was never about money, it was always about courage”.
This trip was first published on letssandhi | Lost to find.