Varanasi is one of the world’s oldest cities (dating back to 1400 B.C.) as well as one of the holiest. A woman in Udaiper told me that some people consider Varanasi one of the top four holiest (the other three being Jerusalem, Vatican City, and Mecca).
The Ganga River, which normally follows a southeastern course, briefly changes direction through Varanasi and flows north. This is considered auspicious. Hindus’ believe that to die in Varanasi is to receive an instant passport to heaven and release from the cycle of reincarnation.
I’ve heard that the Ganga River is quite polluted, but from the shore it actually appeared clean (except for an occasional piece of trash). Nonetheless, I would not touch the water (unlike many people I saw swimming, bathing, and washing their clothes and dishes).
The city is smoggy. The air quality across parts of north India is poor, but for some reason I noticed it most in Varanasi. A woman I met from Berlin had an upper respiratory infection. I caught it from her, and the pollution exacerbated it. Luckily a week later, my immune system won the fight.
The shores of the Ganga River are defined by series of steps called ghats. There are more than 100 ghats in Varanasi along six kilometers of river. Each ghat has a name. Religious ceremonies and rituals are performed on these ghats. For instance, you can watch people being cremated on one.
One of the best ways to observe these religious ceremonies and rituals is by rowboat on the Ganga River. One evening, I watched a ceremony to the Hindu god Shiva from a rowboat.
From the rowboat, I also took part in a candle ceremony. We lit candles in paper bowls, thought of an intention, and placed the candles into the Ganga. Our intentions, and candles, floated away behind the rowboat.
There is only one intention I have. My intention is to have the courage to follow my dreams. I wished the same for all of my friends and family, and I set the intention free on the current that flows north through Varanasi like a compass.
I did another interesting thing in Varanasi. I visited a Hindu priest, a palm reader. I was told that the palm readers in Varanasi are some of the best in India. I’m fascinated with astrology and I once had a magical experience with a tarot card reader in Bisbee, Arizona.
So here is the low-down. I walked into a small room in the heart of the Old City and the priest told me to write my name, date of birth, and time of birth on a piece of paper. He then consulted a worn astrology book. Next, he took my palms in his hands.
There was silence for a moment.
The first word out of his mouth was “traveler.” He then uttered a few sentences that I could barely understand; his accent was thick. I was leaning in, straining to hear. He was holding my palms as if they were a precious thing. With his fingers, he traced their lines. Words began pouring out of his mouth.
“Good heart.” “Active.” “Intelligent.” “Independent.” “Spiritual.” “Artist.”
“What kind of art?” I asked.
“All kinds of art,” he said. “Writing, design, song …” He trailed off and studied my palms closer. “But not so much cosmetic art.” This assertion made me want to laugh. I’ve always been hopeless at doing hair or applying makeup. I don’t own a brush. Sometimes in the summer, I go barefoot and wear a swimsuit top in lieu of a bra.
Still holding my palms, the priest looked into my eyes. “You believe in romance,” he said. Yes, I always have and I swear, I always will …
The priest repeated the words “artist” and “spiritual” a few more times. He told me that I discovered my spiritual path when I was 26 (incidentally, I was 25 years and 11 months old when I went to my first Buddhist meditation retreat and had a feeling, finally, of coming home).
He said other things, too, that I recognize in myself. He said I sometimes take things too personally and “make a big deal over little things.” He said that my biggest problem is my feeling of dissatisfaction, my belief that I am never doing enough.
He said that 28 years old was the year that my luck would change for the better (I left the military at 28). And that I recently completed my formal education (I graduated in December), that I might be done for a while with school, but that I would continue learning. He said that I would engage in a career of “social work” type work.
I must tell my Dad this tidbit. The priest said that I would have two children. When I asked him when, I received an adamant, “Not now!” Don’t worry, Dad, you will be a grandfather. One day.
There are other things he said about my past, my future, and my self. All I can say is that, like Bisbee, Arizona, this was another magical (albeit eery) experience. However, the session was brief, lasting only 10 to 15 minutes.
At the end, the priest asked me what country I live in.
“The United States,” I said.
“Obama,” said the priest, a sudden smile on his face. And then, “He’s a very good man.”
