A few days before my visit, an acquaintance had asked, “Darshan to karengi na?”
As a crowd-averse traveller, often disappointed by the jostling and haste that accompany visits to major temples, I had replied that I had no fixed plan for darshan. If it happened, it happened. If not, there was much else to see in the city.

Yesterday, I repeated the same line to another acquaintance. But as someone who had spent a part of his life in Benaras, he took it upon himself to ensure that I visited the Kashi Vishwanath Temple. As I approached the temple, I could see a serpentine queue winding ahead. Several people stopped passersby, asking if they wanted darshan and offering to guide them inside. I dodged a few such offers and reached Gate No. 4 at around 9.30 in the morning.

The person deputed to facilitate my visit ensured that I completed my darshan by 10.15 a.m.—peacefully, without any pushing or jostling. And even that morning, I found a brief moment to myself as I bowed my head before the Jyotirlinga. Even if I had not planned it, Shiv, it seemed, had planned it for me.

The next part of the day was spent at Ramnagar Fort, situated on the banks of the Ganga. Built in 1750 by Kashi Naresh Maharaja Balwant Singh, the fort remains the ancestral home of the Varanasi royal family. The structure is crumbling from the outside, and though the museum houses an interesting collection of vintage cars, royal costumes, arms and ammunition, the experience felt somewhat underwhelming. The display cases were dusty, many exhibits lacked proper labels, and the overall impression was of a place with great potential but limited care. I walked towards the back of the fort, expecting to reach the river, only to find the walls high. Yet the riverside edge of the fort precincts was animated by enthusiastic anglers.

Almost next to the fort stands Shivji Lassi. The midday heat ensured that my feet found their way there almost automatically. After gulping down two glasses of lassi, I headed to the ancestral home of Lal Bahadur Shastri. It is a small but well-maintained house, offering a modest yet meaningful glimpse into the life of one of India’s most understated leaders.

In the evening, I made my way to Assi Ghat to experience the Ganga Aarti. The first thing I encountered there was a puppet show based on the Ramayana. People were sitting, standing, moving around—but there was a curious method to the madness. As I walked further towards the aarti area, I found that most of the steps were already occupied. Somehow, I spotted a few chairs and promptly settled into one.

There is something surreal about hearing hundreds of voices recite the Hanuman Chalisa in unison. This was followed by the puja of Ma Ganga, during which the organisers invited devotees to participate. At one point, one of the priests admonished a devotee who seemed more concerned with taking photographs than with the prayer itself.

And then began the elaborate aarti.
I have always found aarti mesmerizing. But when it is carried out with such care, rhythm, and a sense of spectacle, it becomes truly unforgettable. As the aarti concluded and I slowly made my way towards the parking area, someone placed a bowl of prasad in my hands. Benaras, once again, in its own small way, touched the soul.

Thus ended my second day in the city of Shiv, a day of devotion, faith, and a little bit of history.