Unlikely Pilgrimage

Dear Friends,

I am presenting a travelogue written by my friend Jaideep Gupta on our pilgrimage to Varanasi with three American friends. We spend 3 days exploring this ancient city which is a sacred to the Hindus as a pilgrimage site and a great learning center.We hope you enjoy reading the experience and looking at the visuals.

Mohan

UNLIKELY PILGRIMAGE - BY JAIDEEP GUPTA

Last week we joined a million other persons on an unlikely pilgrimage to the spiritual centre of Hindu civilization. Benaras. The purpose of the journey was to film Benaras, to capture its visual splendour and if possible to explore its soul through a photographers eye. But as we discovered soon, whatever the stated purpose of the journey, it was really a pilgrimage after all.














We were an unusual group. A lawyer (Jaideep Gupta) , a travel professional (Mohan) , an American musician who has converted to Hinduism who describes himself as a Hindu trapped in an American body (Michael Fontana), a Jewish musician turned photographer (Jay Dorfman) and his 20 year old son (Daniel Dorfman) a quiet American undergraduate far removed from the intensity of Indian life.

Demonstrating the first truth of all pilgrimages: when you go in search of God, your background and your heritage ceases to matter. You become a participant in a great melting pot of humanity all seeking in some sense spiritual knowledge and enlightenment.














January is a month of pilgrimage in North India. Thousands of Hindus are on the move. Most of them start in a small island of the coast of Bengal called Ganga sagar on Makar Sankranti, and make their way to the Magh mela in Allahabad which takes place in the end of January. On the way they stop by at Benaras to take a holy dip in the Ganges.














We met a cross section of these travellers at the Pilgrims shelter behind the steps leading down to Dasaswamedh Ghat. The shelter was a microcosm of life itself. Basically a public park, a temporary shelter has been created with corrugated tin sheets. The ground had been covered with straw to make it possible to sleep on the otherwise cold ground and hessian sheets had been spread on the straw. Groups of pilgrims were sprawled around the shelter surrounded by their cheap duffel bags carrying their worldly possessions to mark the temporary boundaries of their travelling homes . They were of all ages. They had come from all parts of the country. There were families, several generations travelling together. Some had come from as far as Rajasthan and were on their way back after a dip at Ganga Sagar. The sadhus had come with their chelas and their chillums. They were surrounded by curious groups of onlookers hoping to gather spiritual knowledge or maybe just hoping to get a drag from the chillum that was being passed around.


Food was being cooked and served and eaten on one side, the menu sometimes quite elaborate. Dal sabzi and roti with pickles for those feasting elaborately. Nobody stayed more than a night. A dip in the holy river and off they went. No reservations were needed in the trains. They were completely at peace with the world. After all as one of the sadhus said when asked how he made a livelihood " He is all powerful."














While we made friends with the pilgrims, Jay's camera kept clicking. The variety of expressions and subjects he captured was truly astounding. Danny had his first puff at the chillum under the watchful eye of Mike, a veteran of the flower power army of the sixties. And Mohan made friends with Manohar Babaji of the Udasi akhara at Rishikesh and promised to look him up on his next trip to Rishikesh, thousands of miles upriver from this spot.

Later on while filming on the steps of the Scindia ghat, we came across a different phenomenon. A lone sadhu and his helpers had set up tent on the steps of the ghat. Babaji was sitting cross legged his eyes fixed unwaveringly in front of him. The entry of the cameramen did not ruffle him in the least and he merely stared back. His was a solitary pilgrimage untouched by the life teaming around him.

The next day we went down to the bottom of the river at Assi Ghat. This is one end of Varanasi, which is a segment of land encircled by the Ganges, the Varuna and the Asi rivers. Legend has it that to establish his abode on earth, shiva diverted the course of the Ganga below Asi by planting his trishul. Leading to the geographically amazing phenomenon of a huge river turning towards its source. It is said that anything which turns back to its origins is sacred and hence the spot where the river turns back towards its source was immediately identified by the devout as Gods place on earth. The ghats around this part of town were much quieter and less crowded. This is the best place to take a dip, if one is so minded. I took the opportunity to perform my duties as a Hindu here by wading into the river and pouring some water on my head.














Here we met the boat pilgrims. A party of maybe thirty or more pilgrims crowded into a country boat, travelling from Bharaich to Allahabad. Inquiries revealed that they were residents of a village , men and women of all ages travelling together. They had come ashore at the Tulsi Ghat to spend some time in Benaras. Jay filmed with Mohan translating for the pilgrims, thoroughly enjoying his new role. The rest of us basked in the mellow late winter sunshine soaking in the local detail and colour. Bathers came in a steady stream, ever willing to talk. A young man in safron when asked what he did, said without a moments hesitation " I am doing my duty". An elderly man in his sixties waded in and was introduced by the bystanders as a wrestler who had spent his life in Kolkata and had retired in Benaras. Twenty two years, confirmed the wrestler proudly. Some people still look up to Kolkata I said to myself.

Danny came up. It was a revelation to him, he said, to find that people still went on pilgrimage in the early twenty first century. What do you think you are doing right now? I asked. He thought for a minute and agreed. He too was on pilgrimage. So were we all.

The boat carrying the pilgrims now slowly drifted off upriver to its next destination. As we sat watching it dissappear down the wide curve of the river with the magnificient high ghats of Kashi ,the City of Light glistening in the back ground, it was easy to understand that life itself was a pilgrimage. We are just on the way to our next destination.

Jaideep