What is Varanasi? The last tourist trap at the end of the universe? The remains of civilization along a liquid artery of death?
“I know you like to run,
Run astray. But dancing’s just as fun
If you’d stay. By the time you’re numb,
Stunned and shamed.
Settle down and find
Someone to train
But we’re all insane.
(Pick me out, kill me now)”
Fog + Strobe – BLEK.
Not easy running in Varanasi. The stone steps. The cow shit. The early morning fog and the icy breeze. The beggars and the gods. The orange man made up with the dust of the dead. Small bells sing from his head scarf. Children hitting stones with sticks, letting them fly randomly at lazy vultures resting on the edges of Lord Shiva’s temple.
“When will I be happy, living in the hollow place near the celestial
river Ganga, with folded hands over my head, with my bad thinking washed
away, and uttering the mantra of Lord Shiva…”
Shiv Tandac Stotra by Vivek Rajagopalan
It’s wash and pray time. Wake up. Speed up. Step up. The man sleeps on stone and could be dead. The other man swims the pearly water of the Ganga. He scrubs his belly with laundry soap while laughing loudly. Ripples gently tip the floating candles. My shoes are gray with ash.
“When the bomb drops
you’re looking like a toad
at the start
of revolution you’re a bore
watching paint dry
all over the wall
getting sick, sick
every other day
no skill, no kill
no skill no kill
you’re on a hilltop.”
Hilltop – Sky Rabbit
The astrologer said I will end with the world, with the spirits I breathe in mouthfuls of smoke. They run through me with a whispering chill. What bomb? I will run along the Ganga forever. I will end nothing. Nike, the goddess, is in my shoes. Ganesh smiles from the wall. The dead child is tied up to a stone and thrown in the river. No burning for purity. No time for prosperity. From dust to water. From water to gods. From gods to vacuum. It’s all very sharp and the color of hearts. Mosquitoes zip by, fighting the wind.
It was yesterday’s night. With the boatman into the end of light. The children’s kites battling in the indigo sky. The last bodies to ashes on the broken pyres. The woman waiting to die in the dark hospice. Too poor to buy wood. It was a liquid run on dark waters. While a perfect cycle of life, death and tourists ran its course along the river banks.
The chants began in the night. The gods sat listening with the tourists. The men in purple had smoke in their hands. A skinny dog was fighting a goat. A child is selling golden bells. Injected scents of burnt bodies, incense, and spicy foods, set fire in my veins. What is Varanasi? The last tourist trap at the end of the universe? The remains of civilization along a liquid artery of death? The obsessive loop of the mantra of eternity? My feet are bleeding. I have to stop my run. The Ganga keeps flowing, carrying the burnt remains of useless bodies whose souls have come back in new ones. Where is my hotel, with my overpriced cold water shower?
Listen to the entire Varanasi Runner playlist below.
CBK would like to extend a special thanks to Aditya Kundalkar for sharing his invaluable local Mumbai music connections (And for introducing us to the Southern style Indian filter coffee).
These pictures capture the essence of Varanasi, as do the writings, a place so extreme its like going down a rabbit hole in some kind of ancient wonderland. I hope you got to meet the bull that comes everyday around three o’clock to a dress store in the shopping area to worship at their shrine of Shiva. The store is where a temple used to stand, but the shrine was all that was left and the store was built there. No one told the bull his spot had been renovated. I thought the story couldn’t be true so every day I was there I waited for him to come. And he did. And one day he came over to me. I was told I could touch him since he had chosen me. We spent some time together and then he walked up the five steps to the store and lay down inside in front of Shiva. He never looked back. And I was never the same….
Thank you Wendy ! This is a great story. We are going to re-publish it in our WENOW section shortly.
Moving! Photos words stories music all jive for an enjoyable arm chair travel this fine Sunday morning.
Hey J, thank you for the comment. We love doing the ‘music runners’ and we think they can get better. It’s a good combo, you’re right. We are now preparing one on a section of Brooklyn with a strong African American influence. Stay tuned and let us know how we can make them better. Thanks Again. Icarus