Ancient Wisdom & New Ideas: A spiritual journey through Nepal and India — Part 3
In Part 2 of my journey, I entered India through Nepal and attended the largest human gathering in the world — the Kumbh Mela. It was an open theatre of religious and political drama that ended with some serious injuries.
Now, I arrive in Varanasi — one of the holiest cities in India.
My time at Kumbh had come to a sore end. My head was full of ideas and inspiration, but my body was exhausted. It was an awakening of its own kind to realize that I was only halfway through my journey, with almost 1,000kms to cover in 10 days.
The next stop was Varanasi, also known as Kashi. The city is considered to be one of the holiest places in North India as, according to legend, Lord Shiva lived here after he left his abode in Uttarkashi, which is located high up in the Himalayas. My first impression was far from it, but I was open to surprises.
The monk sold his Ferrari, and kept the keys?
Varanasi
At my first stop in Varanasi, I met one of my high school friends, Siddharth who had booked us a luxurious boutique hotel which was a paradise in the middle of a bustling Kashi. A big white courtyard with yellow awnings and white pebbles, the hotel looked like the summer home of a royal family. He had booked the balcony suite, and although it was way over my daily travel budget, I didn’t resist.
I enjoyed my time at Stay Benares and — importantly — it made me think of how spirituality intersects with luxury or more broadly, desires.
It wasn’t so much about getting rid of desires and shunning all material things, rather to desire fully but need nothing. I’ve been exploring this idea and I feel my need for control, ownership and wealth are transitioning into desires for higher awareness, emotional wellbeing and inner peace.
Although I was convinced with this new found theory of desire, I’d also read that there were no absolutes in the relative world of spirituality
Benares was full of legal Bhaang (an edible preparation of cannabis) sold in shops run by the government. Although Siddharth and I had a strict shooting regimen, we also had our share of fun. We took day trips to Sarnath, where Buddha first taught the Dharma — he saw that the impulse to crave and desire things that one doesn’t have is the principal cause of suffering .
We also visited Chunar, home to a historical fort, built on top of a rock face which overlooked the Ganga.
While Sarnath was full of tourists from Asia and Europe, Chunar was quiet and peaceful. Here a young schoolboy was our tour guide and he impressed us with his knowledge of the fort’s history. He showed us a spot where rulers massacred prisoners and threw them into the river below.
We hired a boat on the river below to get a different view of the fort. While paddling along, we saw a something jump out of the water. And again.
It was an asiatic river dolphin — the same pink river dolphin my friend Sean was researching in Nepal I mentioned in part 1 of my journey. Comically, he hadn’t spotted a single one there and had to shift his project to document local fishing tribes. There were at least half a dozen of these dolphins in the river here, and the locals refused to hunt them as they were considered ‘angels’.
Following the path of those who‘ve laid the tracks
Bodhgaya
After Varanasi, I traveled to Bodhgaya. I had been here as a kid and it didn’t feel as developed as it had become in recent years. The Mahabodhi temple complex was full of banners welcoming tourists to the Bodhi tree, where Buddha is said to have attained enlightenment.
I was starting to feel the fatigue of visiting tourist sites, constantly looking for areas away from the bustle where I could spend some time alone. Luckily, I was staying at Senamura Yoga Center near Bodhgaya and I could borrow a mountain bike.
The terrain was tricky, an entire river had dried up during this season and there was no way to bike through the sand without falling. Most people stepped off their bike and walked it across for half a kilometer before reaching the mud flats. The only way to get through the thick sand was to follow the trails left by other people.
The initial part of the journey was tough, with a lot of internal resistance. But, it helped to follow someone else’s tracks
After crossing the river, I was finally able to cycle on the mud roads, which felt like a smooth, silky paradise for biking. I rode freely into groves of palm trees, open agricultural fields and a series of salmon-colored hills.
At one point, there were arid rocks and hilltops to the right and a lush stretch of green with tropical trees and farmlands to the left. This was a side of Bihar I’d never known or heard of; the natural tranquility had me in awe.
The smooth mud paths didn’t last very long. Soon, I was forced to trudge through the sand as they were constructing a road along the hills. It was lined with thick sand before tar could be poured in and I was forced to slow down.
Physical exertion interrupted the extensive mental activity and helped me embrace the pure joy of stillness. No thoughts, no ongoing conversations in my head; it was a moment of clarity that I felt one could experience more often.
There was no turning back from here, I’d learnt some valuable lessons and had to travel further into Bihar to reach the border with Nepal.
We tend to find the things we are looking for, when we truly stop looking
Patna & Rajgir
My next stop was Patna, the capital of Bihar. This was a transit I’d initially dreaded. But with the state of mind I was in, I enjoyed Patna thoroughly. The transit was not particularly eventful, but I was at peace.
I decided to keep moving to Rajgir, a small town famous for its natural hot springs and rich Hindu and Buddhist history. Rajgir had various attractions including a network of caves known as Saptaparni, where Buddha was believed to have spent some time before his death. It was also believed that Lord Krishna’s chariot had passed through Rajgir and left marks on the rocks. There were no public taxis in this town, only horse carts to ferry passengers.
I was excited to take a dip in the hot springs. I had imagined warm pools with underwater fountains where one could relax and get a spa experience. The reality was quite different, there was barely any room to move inside.
I wanted to visit the Saptaparni caves next, and it was at least a half an hour trek up the mountain. It was not an easy climb for older tourists so locals earned a living by carrying them up the mountain on palanquins.
When I arrived at the caves entrance, it was extremely dark inside with very narrow openings. A sadhu was sleeping under its shade and I started exploring the cave. It wasn’t long before I had to stop. I had no idea where it would lead to or whether it was the right entrance. It was at least a few degrees cooler. People came from far away lands to meditate and spend time in these caves, and I was busy scanning the insides trying to take a good photograph. Something didn’t feel right.
I was constantly shooting during the trip and the massive camera I was using started to get in the way of my experience. It was a constant battle between trying to record every moment and dropping everything to experience it.
You will know when it hits you
Janakpur
My back took a beating on the 60km bus journey I took to cross into Janakpur in Nepal. The town was extremely holy to Hindus as its proclaimed to be Goddess Sita’s family kingdom.
I was starting to lose interest in photography. I’d done it for over 10 years and the pursuit of stories took me every place I could imagine; brothels, conflict zones, cemeteries and army bases. Through this journey, I realised that the camera was as much of a barrier as it was an entry ticket into people’s lives.
By now, I was more interested in finding a spot to sit quietly. Janakpur was a dusty town and Sita’s family palace was the main attraction. I saw a large Peepal (sacred fig) tree in the compound and sat under its shade. Peepal is worshipped as a sacred tree across India and people usually don’t dare to cut them as they’re believed to carry spirits.
As I sat under the tree, I felt slight goosebumps and chills. It was an extremely unfamiliar, but pleasant feeling to have tinkles along my back and neck. For all I know, it might have been the start of a spiritual awakening.
Contributing edits by Apurv Gupta and Savera Aranya. Additional photos provided by Siddharth Puthanpura.
