Soul Searching by the Ghats of Benares

Soul Searching by the Ghats of Benares

A Story by Shreya Das

I woke up with the sound of a splash nearby.
With a blurred vision trying to come to terms with the present, I sensed I was floating in water. I didn’t understand why, though. Beside me were some garlands and a mass of ash, floating leisurely, touching my skin on their way. As I tried to adjust myself away from these, my eyes caught attention of a bright red glare in front. I wiped my face and eyes off the water to see more clearly. What appeared in front was somewhat like a ghat and a familiar crowd stood surrounding a large blaze of fire. I felt I know these faces. I tried to look more carefully.
Yes, that’s Raju, my younger brother! That’s Reena, his wife. That teenage girl, looking blank, is my daughter Ritu! And there, wiping her eyes constantly with her dupatta, is my wife! Sheila! And, there is this other young boy, standing closer to the fire. He had something in his hand, his head shaven. That is… my son…. Akshyay! What’s going on? Why am I here?
I screamed out my wife’s name from where I was. Sheila! My voice didn’t quite seem to reach them. I shouted louder. Hey Aksyay! Ritu! Raju! Do you see me? I’m here! In vain…
I tried to move my limbs hard, in an attempt to swim up to the bank. But wait! I couldn’t move an inch closer. I tried harder. In vain… In fact my efforts didn’t seem to have any impact on the water. It stood still. The garlands and ash floated leisurely.
I looked here and there. Restless. Helpless.
The sun had not set yet. There was enough light from the dusk to see things from a distance. And amidst that chaos on the ghat my eyes spotted those large letters imprinted on one of the tall walls. It read ‘Manikarnika Ghat’!
My heart sunk! And a deep realization penetrated my soul…… I am dead.

It was my last wish to be cremated at Benares and so my family had traveled all the way from Karol Bagh to fulfill my wish.
I watched the ghat silently from where I was. Manikarnika ghat �" I had read somewhere earlier that this ghat got its name when an earring fell from Lord Shiva’s ear while he was doing ‘tandav’ (dance angrily) with his wife Sati’s body in his arms. Today, thousands of Hindus travel from far off places to cremate their loved ones here so that the souls get ‘moksha’ or salvation.
I couldn’t understand, why ‘I’ was still here. I realized that what is still with me now is my ‘soul’. Although my soul got liberated from my body, it didn’t yet get liberated from this world. I wondered whether I had left some task unfinished. May be I still had a purpose to serve. I couldn’t think too much. All I knew was that I could not bear to see the pain in my wife’s eyes. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
Moments later I opened my eyes with the sound of laughter nearby.
A boat was approaching me. A group of two girls and three boys sat aboard. They just seemed happy on their vacation and enjoyed the view of the ghats from their boat. A bubbly, chirpy girl kept laughing and giggling to the jokes her friends kept cracking, along their ride. Their energy and smile made my heart lighter. The other lean guy seemed busy with his camera. They didn’t notice me, except….
The girl in blue. I noticed she was looking straight at me. Did she see me?
In a moment she took out her camera and took my photo. I looked stunned. But then, something touched my chest. It was a floating candle. Sigh! So she was taking the candle’s picture. I felt relieved.
Soon, the boat moved further away from me and the laughter died gradually. I was left alone by myself, again. I realized that in the meantime I had moved further away from the Manikarnika ghat. What lied in front of me was the Darbhanga Ghat and beside it written in bold tall letters were the words ‘Munshi Ghat’. The ghat looked architecturally impressive. It appeared as though it was a magnificent palace built by a Hindu Maharaja. There must be a dozen royal stories hidden behind those walls. But whatever may be its history, what immediately grabbed my attention was the sight of groups of Hindus and Muslims sharing the same ghat. I could see those skull caps and the saffron dhotis moving up and down the ghat stairs. This is the beauty of Benares! Here is where religion surpasses its communal differences and becomes one for the sake of God.
I decided to move further north along the banks. A little beyond, a firang (foreigner) lay sitting on the terrace of the ghat, lost in deep meditation. I realized how ignorant we Indians had always been, of the treasure that lies in our own culture and religion, that draws thousands of foreigners to this land in search of their true self and God.
Aligned to the banks of this ghat, on the water, lay a large group of children learning how to swim as part of a swimming club.
I moved down further. A group of cattle cuddled together in the water. One of them looked at me. A man, probably their master, was busy scrubbing the soap lather on his body. He was taking his evening shower.
The ghat adjacent looked impressive. It was decorated with lights and garlands and lots of people, as if waiting for something to happen. I noticed, a number of boats started gathering in front of the ghat. In a short while, the entire ghat got crowded with people on the banks and off the banks �" on boats.
It was dark now. But the ghats looked bright and colorful. Dasaswamedh Ghat. I remember my late mother once expressing her wish to see the Ganga aarti (a ceremony with lighted candles) by the Dasaswamedh Ghat in Benares. I could never fulfill her wish. I am glad my children did it for me.
I quietly moved to a corner behind the boats where I could get the best view of the ghat. No one saw me. I waited.
Soon a group of young men emerged on top of the ghat, dressed in glazing red shirts and dhotis. These were the pandits who would perform the aarti rituals. Moments later, with the sound of the bugle (sankha), the jamboree started, in all its glory and luminance. I watched. Amazed. Feeling blessed……

……….. It was very late now. Not sure of the time �" probably nearing midnight. I didn’t quite realize how the time flew by watching the aarti at the Dasaswamedh Ghat. They performed it for nearly 1 and a half hours. The ghats are empty now except for a few people sitting by the ghat, a few street dwellers taking rest on the steps on the ghats. A little further from this ghat, at a relatively less crowded and quieter place, two sadhus sit by burning flames. They both had something in their hands �" a human skull, each and a piece of human bone. I realized they were the ‘tantrik sadhus’ (hermits that practice black magic). I could hear them chant some spells and perform some weird activities, which I didn’t try to comprehend. All I knew was that these were men who have left their homes, shed worldly desires and came here to Benares, to find God.

I felt content. I felt complete. Here at Benares I saw the many aspects of real life, ‘after my death’. I thanked my family for this.
I looked up at the sky. It was too dark. Probably it was New Moon day.
As I heard the constant recitation of mantras from the tantriks, my eyes felt heavy. I felt tired. I wanted to sleep……..a peaceful sleep.

© 2015 Shreya Das


My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Reviews

truly great...such epic imagination..!!


Posted 8 Years Ago


Shreya Das

8 Years Ago

thank you Hemraj. I'm glad you liked it! :)
I enjoyed this very much. I lke reading about different ceremonies and different cultures.

Posted 8 Years Ago


Shreya Das

8 Years Ago

Thanks Marie for spending your valuable time here to read my stuff. Thanks again!
I liked the story and places described in the story.
"I felt content. I felt complete. Here at Benares I saw the many aspects of real life, ‘after my death’. I thanked my family for this.
I looked up at the sky. It was too dark. Probably it was New Moon day.
As I heard the constant recitation of mantras from the tantriks, my eyes felt heavy. I felt tired. I wanted to sleep……..a peaceful sleep."
Above lines are true wisdom. To be thankful for life and family. Thank you for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

Posted 8 Years Ago


Shreya Das

8 Years Ago

Thanks Coyote! I read some of your stuff. Wonderful!
Coyote Poetry

8 Years Ago

You are welcome.

Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

229 Views
3 Reviews
Rating
Added on July 20, 2015
Last Updated on July 20, 2015
Tags: Benares, Varanasi, short story, fiction

Author

Shreya Das
Shreya Das

Kolkata, West Bengal, India



About
I am a Doctorate in Transportation Engineering but a passionate blogger, poet, photographer and painter. I travel quite frequently and love to pen down my experiences more..

Writing
Bonita Bonita

A Poem by Shreya Das