The journey beyond birth and death starts here from these banks of Kasi. These timeworn lanes speak of legends, mythologies, and history. And Ganga, a witness to everything, flows by... Mohanlal continues his journey through Varanasi.
On the banks of the Ganges In the city older than myths Mohanlal ponders on the ultimate mystery
The first lines of the Viswanathashtakam filled my mind as I set foot upon the sands of Kasi.
'Sing and praise that lord of the Universe,
Who is the Lord of the town of Banaras,
Who has the tufted hair made by waves of river Ganga,
Who for ever has Gowri as ornament on his left side,
Who is the friend of Lord Narayana,
And who destroyed the pride of the god of love.'
These verses are composed by Veda Vyaasa. The character enacted by me, recites these lines, in the film 'Devasuram'. It gives a blissful feeling to utter these verses at the feet of Lord Viswanathan in Kasi. In some places, the verses and the prayers become one.
I travel extensively within and outside the country, mostly for shootings. Wherever I go, I am caught in the midst of instructions from directors, clapboards, cameras and arc lights. From the age of 18, the words: 'Start- Action- Camera- Cut' has been ringingin my ears. Then, all places mean the same to me. Any location, then, shrinks to just a few glimpses of the surroundings or sometimes to only a whiff of the breeze that I manage to get during my breaks. However, there are some places which are an exception. Despite the demands imposed by the busy work schedule, the history, the myths and the odours of these places do flow into us.
I first came to Kasi for the shooting of certain scenes of the film 'Vaanaprastham'. At that time I felt like being in an entirely different era. Every Indian grows up hearing stories about Kasi right from childhood. I too have heard about them. The memories that had been dormant for years suddenly came to life. The Viswanath temple, the Ganga, ghats filled with burning funeral pyres, narrow lanes… all lay in front of me. And I wandered along in their midst.
Years later, when I went to Kasi again, many things had changed in me – both internally and outwardly. But Kasi hadn't changed at all. It was still the same, like what it was from the period of the Rig Veda. I felt the same enigma enveloping me in that city. And the Ganga too flowed by, unmoved and dispassionate.
I was in Kasi for almost a week this time. The varying facets of this town caught my attention – its dusks, nights, dawns, festivities, trade…and much, much more. And this is what makes Kasi what it is. And therefore I would like to call this a mysterious and enigmatic town.
It is from the ghats that one is able to get a feel of the soul of Kasi. A miniature representation of India, from Kashmir to Kanyakumari, can be seen here, if one takes a close look at the ghats. All have come here seeking salvation. And their yearning for salvation becomes the means of livelihood for the Pandakas, the priests. All around, one can find ascetics with blank, expressionless eyes, and parched hair locks, whose feet have worn out from walking barefoot.
All pilgrims, whether male or female, take bath in these ghats. There is neither shame nor lust here. Could it be that the sight of the burning pyres over and over again has burnt out the feelings of lust within these people? Or is it the belief that feelings of lust are something impure for a devotee?
One of the oldest palaces in Kasi, the palace of the king of Kasi, situated along the banks of the Ganga has enchanted me as much as Kasi has. A flight of steps has been constructed from the Ganga leading to the palace. From the beautifully sculpted balcony of the palace, one can see the Ganga flowing with all its majesty. The Ganga reaches up to the balcony when the water is plenty and stands parallel with even greater pride than the palace. The dictating rulers of the royal dynasty would then bow their heads in reverence – one of those moments that prove the helplessness and insignificance of man when confronted by nature.
The smell of Kasi is the smell of death. The fragrance of the aarati, at the fall of dusk, gets lost in the overpowering smell of burning corpses. Seeing the pyres, separations of the dear ones and the burning bodies day and night, it looks as if this town has overcome its fear of death. Beyond the burning pyres, children playing cricket upon the cemented pavements of the ghats is a common sight. They do not even notice the deaths. A group of foreigners, who had come to film the cremations, were interviewing the purohits. I have seen the death of many, including my elder brother. Alumoodan chettan had died resting his head on my lap and on that day, my fear of death vanished. As I stood there in front of burning bodies, I could feel death as intimately as that of a friend. One day, I went to visit Kasi Viswanath temple which is thousands of years old. Standing amidst that crowd, I just happened to remember my father; probably because his name too is Viswanathan.
Mahatma Gandhi too had visited Kasi. He had returned a very disappointed man. It was the dirty and unhygienic town and the temple premises that had made him unhappy. The filth in Kasi today has grown ten folds. I have never been able to accept the logic that God resides in such filthy surroundings. Neither can I think of a God sans cleanliness. But our blind devotion makes us overlook all these. We do not realize that we who come to seek the blessings of God also contribute to making the temple premises filthy. Once we receive the blessings, we return, leaving God in a heap of filth!
I always take leave of a place with the hope that I will be back again someday. I received a message on my mobile the day I was leaving Kasi. It was a line from M.T.Vasudevan Nair's novel Varanasi. This town which is a land of bliss and a vast cremation ground at the same time has been my interim nesting place. Tomorrow the journey will resume again. And so also my journey...
Mohanlal
Photos: Momi and Unnikrishnan Pattazhi
Translation: Anuradha Ganesh
Mahatma Gandhi too had visited Kasi. He had returned a very disappointed man. It was the dirty and unhygienic town and the temple premises that had made him unhappy. The filth in Kasi today has grown ten folds. I have never been able to accept the logic that God resides in such filthy surroundings. Neither can I think of a God sans cleanliness. But our blind devotion makes us overlook all these. We do not realize that we who come to seek the blessings of God also contribute to making the temple premises filthy. Once we receive the blessings, we return, leaving God in a heap of filth!
