❝AT TWENTY-FIVE DEGREES NORTH LATITUDE, After leaving the state of Odhisa very astonished, I arrived in Benares on the eve of Mahashivaratri, an irresistible Varanasi. Since Pythagoras, at least for Europeans, the banks of the Ganges have not ceased to be an irresistible magnet, a complete hive of devotees going up and down the ghats at the foot of its waters. I reached the hotel by boat, the luxurious Brijrama Palace (on another occasion I may tell why that hotel), the only way to do it if you go with luggage. I'm still under the barrage effect.
I had time to fall from the shower to the ceremony Bargain Aarti, attached to the facade of the Brijrama, arriving on time for a brief session of traditional dance in the hotel's step room and at nightfall with dinner in the mouth a lightning reconnaissance of the nearby temple of Kasi Viswanath, risking groping again, where today it was not possible to enter the kilometer-long queues posted up to its doors.
A chance, among many others, made the pandit ji that ceremoniously received the hotel guests walking quietly on the facade to impose on you poor-quality y bindi officiated in the temple. I will see him calmly tomorrow, although we were able to chat a bit despite his incredible shyness (advantages of travelling alone). Thanks to this connection, I escaped the crowds and followed part of the procession away from the temple without being crowded. The sun was hidden behind a dense mist all day and the rain threatened to cut the party short at times. There was barely enough light andrecortar la fiesta a ratos. Apenas hubo luz suficiente y Mrs. Canon He didn't stop protesting. We had to get out of the attempt as best we could.
If Voltaire on the Ganges...
Girl playing at the door of the house on the ghats from Benares. ▲
shadu painting himself bindi on the forehead. ▼
