ravi s

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ravi s

Others

A Brief History Of Banaras

A Brief History Of Banaras

10 mins
710


How do I describe the city? What shall I call it, Varanasi, Banaras, Benaras or simply Kashi? At a loss for better words, I am going to borrow what Mark Twain is supposed to have said about this place:


“Benaras is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend and looks twice as old as all of them put together.”– Mark Twain

Since my childhood, I have heard about Kashi a number of times, over and over again. My parents and relatives are a religious lot and used to talk about Kashi being the holiest of the holy places in our country. Like Muslims who dream of doing the Haj pilgrimage, Kashi yatra is the dream destination for a majority of Hindus, so much so that many wish to die in Kashi or be cremated there, or if that is not possible, at least have their ashes immersed in the Ganges. Fed on such discussions and stories, it had always been my desire, though only in my subconscious, to visit Kashi at least once before I departed this mortal world. Mind you, I am not a religious person and neither am I keen to die there or have my ashes immersed in the Ganges! You can say it was a child’s curiosity which somehow grew inside me as I grew.


The first time I got to visit Kashi was by sheer chance. In 1982 I had been employed by United India Insurance Co after an All India Entrance Exam and an interview. To my dismay, after the initial training in Chennai, I was posted to Jaipur. I was married by then and my wife was pregnant with our first child. My family was in Delhi and I had requested my company for a posting there. But they asked me to report to Jaipur. Well, I joined the Jaipur office but I told my boss about my problems and requested him to consider my posting to Delhi. In jobs, the employee proposes and the boss disposes of. I was transferred, but not to Delhi. I got posted to Allahabad! Despite my protestations, I had to go to a place that was further away from Delhi.

My woes did not end here. I reached Allahabad and reported it to my boss. After a couple of days, he called me and told me that I have to go to Varanasi for a few months and work there as the officer heading the branch was going on long leave. This was the last straw on the camel’s back and I flipped. But, who can fight the system? Particularly when you are a fresher and far too junior?


I think it was God’s plan (though I did not feel it that way then) to grant my childhood wish. If it was, I must say that God made it very complicated and frustrating for me!

I reached Kashi and checked into a hotel (Ajay Hotel) at Lahurabir. My office was not far away from the hotel. As I sat in my room and took stock of my depressing life, it struck me that instead of feeling sick and depressed, I should make the best use of the opportunity (maybe this was God again putting the thought in my mind).


I decided that I would no more worry and will explore the holy city on my own. I asked a friendly colleague in the office about the places I could visit and what Kashi was famous for? He smiled at me and said: “Raand, Saand, Seedhi, Sanyasi, Inse Bache to sebe Kaasi”. While I was wondering what this meant, he explained that the most popular things in Kashi are the famed prostitutes of Kashi, the ubiquitous bulls on the streets ( they have humped backs) the steps of the ghats and the crowds of Sanyasis. One who can save himself from these will attain salvation in this city. Well, this was the most unusual introduction you can ever get for the holiest city in India!


My decision to explore the city on foot (walking) was perhaps the best decision I had ever made. Apart from introducing the city, my colleague had also recommended a few things to check out. First and foremost was Banarasi Pan and then Bhang. When I asked him why these were famous, he just winked and smiled mysteriously at me and said: “ Try to Keejiyega!” I had heard of the pan (betel leaf) and I had savored the humble ‘beeda’ at many a south Indian wedding, but I was quite illiterate about the better variants or it’s qualities. Bhang, I had heard and read about, but never had the opportunity to see or taste it. I knew it was prepared by grinding the leaves and buds of the cannabis plant, and that it was an intoxicant. But my knowledge then was limited. Anyway, I kept my friend’s recommendations in mind.


I took long walks every morning in different directions so that I can cover the entire city. I had heard about the famous Ghats and my first destination was Vishwanath gully. I visited the ghats first and took in all the filth with total disappointment. I was shocked at how these waters could be considered holy by millions of Hindus. I was fascinated, however, by the obvious faith the milling crowds of pilgrims had. Unlike me, they did not seem to be bothered by filth or half-burnt corpses.

The ancient temple of Lord Shiva is actually hidden, tucked away as it is inside narrow bye-lanes and joined to its hips by a Mosque. The sight reminded me of our secular credentials, whatever one might say about its history. 

The streets of Kashi are narrow, at least in 1983, and even a pedestrian like me had to carefully navigate to avoid being hit by rickshaws (cycle), autos, bikes, scooters, bicycles and a variety of other vehicles. One has to also be alert to the wandering bulls lest they decide to go violent and run amock. Add to this the free citizens of the town and the hordes of visiting pilgrims Indian and overseas, and you will get a vivid picture of this vibrant city.

Pan shops are not difficult to locate in Kashi. In fact, they will find you, instead of you finding them. After dinner one night, I decided to take the Pan test. I went across to a pan shop opposite my hotel as asked for a pan. The shopkeeper was most helpful.

“Sada(plain) or meetha (sweet) ya tambaku (tobacco)?” 

I decided to take the tobacco option.

“ Bangla, Banarasi, Madrasi ya Maghai?” He enqired.

I had never heard of Bangla or Maghai. He told me that the betel leaf came in different varieties. I took the most obvious Banarasi option.

“ Supari kachcha, pakka, geeli ya nahin chahiye?”

I wondered whether I was doing the right thing, undertaking this pan test.

“ Bhaiya”, I confessed. “ Mujhe maaf kariyega, par pan ke baare mein meri samajh kam hai. Aap hi kuch badhiya bana deejiye na.”


The shopkeeper laughed and went about manufacturing my first real manly pan. After he finished, he offered me a steel plate which was laid out with a variety of condiments and a set of four small neatly folded, yellow-green colored betel leaves pinned together cleverly with a toothpick. I looked at the plate with amazement and puzzlement and then looked pleadingly at the panwala. He smiled patronizingly at me and gave me a look of sympathy. 

“ Saab, this is supari, this is saadi Patti, this tambaaku, this here is thandak (camphor). There is a bit of hira-moti if you prefer. I can add some good quality kimaam . Feel free to take the elaichi or laung, or some saunf if you like. There is an extra chuna also for you. Enjoy Saab.”


Was this paan or a meal I had to partake, I wondered. Anyway, I was determined to pass the paan test. I picked up the betel leaf first, unpinned it and put it in my mouth. Then I took a pinch of tobacco and the other ingredients except for saunf and elaichi.


“Kyaa Saab? Kaisa lag raha hai?”


My mouth was now exploding and full. I could not reply for about two minutes as the juices were flowing out of my mouth.

“Thookh deejiye Saab, mu mein mat rakhiye.” He advised me.

I was too ashamed to spit, even though I had observed the entire city was painted red with the stains of millions of betel juice spittles. I did not heed the wise man’s advice and gulped the juice down my throat.


The moment the juice went it, I realized my blunder. There was a violent atomic explosion inside my brain and it threw up a million stars in my head. The universe started spinning madly and I lost my moorings. I was at the very edge of this madly spinning universe, ready to take off into infinity. My life on earth had come to a dizzying end and even during this madness, I was thinking about my wife, my infant child, my aging parents, and my twin brother and sister. They were unaware of my ending and would they be able to bear the shock? What have I done God, is it my destiny to die in Kashi, like millions of Hindu believers? I thought I had made it clear to God that I did not believe in salvation in Kashi!


I staggered and fell. When I regained consciousness, I was alive, the spinning had slowed down considerably and my earthly vision restored. I could see the benign pan wala peering at my face worriedly. Tens of bystanders had gathered around me.


“Saab, aapko batana chahiye tha. Tambaku pehle khaaye nahin lagta hai. Ab kaise feel kar rahe ho?”


I apologized and thanked him for the first aid. I got up and walked to my hotel, staggered into my room, rushed to the bathroom and threw up. I had failed my paan test.


Undaunted by my failure I was determined to now take the acid test. Bhang. I was fearful of this test. Paan was legitimate and not sanctioned by law, but to my illiterate mind, bhang was illicit. Where would I find it and how am I going to take it? What if I am caught and arrested. I was young then and the foolhardiness of youth cannot be restrained, even by legal complications. I set out to Vishwanath gully to investigate and find the truth about Bhang.

To my utter amazement, bhang was sold in the open everywhere in Kashi! It was there on the pavement, right before me! There was a table with a large drum of water on one side and a tumbler on top of it. In the very center of the table, there were small round balls, green in color. People were picking up the balls, throwing them in their mouths and would down it with a tumbler full of water; and then walk away casually, after paying the shopkeeper, of course. So, bhang was not illicit or illegal after all! This discovery gave me courage but also led me to my second fear, what can possibly go wrong. On this point, I was more cautious given the experience with the paan. But what does youth care for a fall or two?


I confidently walked up to the shop, paid him for a ball and then gulped it down, like a native, with water. I then sat down on the pavement and waited for the explosions. Five minutes went by and nothing happened. I was disappointed. Was this not the stuff that intoxicates people? I asked the shopkeeper and he laughed.


“ Of course, this is bhang. Pure stuff. Good quality. My shop is amongst the best in Varanasi. If you felt nothing, go ahead and have more. You know, bhang is a strange thing. It can begin its effects immediately after you take it, or hours thereafter or not at all. It all depends on your system.”


That was it. I decided that I had enough for the day. Pass or fail, no more bhang for me. Who knows? I may act funny in a couple of hours?


Well, all went well with me. During my stay in Kashi, I went to a lot of temples, saw movies (Disco Dancer was a superhit then) visited the famed Harishchandra Ghat and Manikarnika Ghat where the dead are cremated. In particular, I was drawn by Lord Hanuman at the Sankat Mochan temple, which I visit every time I happen to be in Varanasi. Don’t ask me why.

I love this city, Banaras. It has a magnetic charm and the whole atmosphere in this city is surreal. One need not be spiritual or religious to feel Kashi.


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