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One more year.

I spent my birthday in Varanasi.I booked myself into a heritage hotel built as a palace by the King of nepal in the late 1800s,filled with tourists.The place was good enough ,I especially liked the decor which had elements of traditional with modernity.The food was allright,ranging all the way from buffet breakfast with a south-indian spread to pancakes and baked beans .etc.The first evening I just decided to tag along with a bengali family in the hotel car to see the Ganges at sunset with the aarti.The first view of Ganga from the ghats is deadly literally ,you could just fall down to your death if you are not careful.The hotel had booked the boat so we were well looked after.The driver told us to be wary of anyone and everyone and that they would look after us.He said the reason he could not possibly do otherwise was because he was on a salary roll in the hotel for Rs 7000 per month and he would not like to lose his only source of income.He was matter-of fact in the reason why the ghats were well looked after ,because it gave boost to tourism and was a source of income for so many from the region.There was one ghat after the another,nothing in the mildest comparison to the mighty river .Harischandra ghat had three pyres burning simultanaeuosly while in three ghats the aarti started.The oldest was not necessarily the grandest ,in sheer showmanship there was a wealthy ghat with wealthy people where there were more wealth.
We watched it all from the boat.I more fascinated by the people around me.The father of the family from the hotel seemed to be more of I don't know what,he was a little taken aback to know that I was a christian doctor and started reprimending his family to look at the structure with a historical perspective and nothing more.There were people coming to sell tea,trinkets ,pakoras on the boats.All the boats were latched on one to other and there were scores and scores of people.I just felt tired when a young priest came to our boat with an aarti,when I told him I would not take it he gave me an amused smile and moved on.
There was a young lady from Mexico in our boat who was from a catholic background.I just wanted the whole thing to get over so that I could go back to the hotel room .In between the aarti,the boats started moving out,and suddenly the gentleman pointed towards a fleet of white birds that touched the waters in the dark and flew north,it was so sudden, I felt very light as we ventured back across the river.I remembered Psalm 139 vs 9-12.
'If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
If I settle on the farside of sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
Your right hand will hold me fast,
If I say ''surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me''
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.'
As I walked through the various alleys I remembered my friend's grandmother,a punjabi from Pakistan, came to India during partisian who cooked us lovely Punjabi food in college whenever we had exams.She towards the end of life had asked to be brought here.Another person who had written about the boat-ride at dusk experience was my cousin PG who found the experience spiritual.In that sea of humanity for me personally the only stamp of the creator was in the vastness and the beauty of the creation ,the river ,the sky,the birds,aspirations of souls who lit small diyas and sent it floating across the river (I saw an old couple light a diya and place it in the water,it made me wonder in whose memory they were lighting it),and the lives that were entwined and dependant on the river for their livelihood, that to me ,was fascinating.
I had decided to visit the Banaras Hindu university the next day but got the information that I could buy my painting material in Gulbaugh near BHU so I ventured to the place and bought stuff to my heart's content.
I actually spent the rest of next day following the US elections on CNN and in between listened to snippets of Yogi Adityanath's speecb about renaming Faizabad as Ayodhya.

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