Gained in Translation: Enchantment called Banaras

In the shopping mall of intellectual life, displacement and variety carry great value, and stability — a firm foundation — isn’t worth the soil it’s built on.

Kashi, Banaras, Banaras city, Prayagraj, Kumbh mela, Banaras and JNU, Alok Dhanva, Kumbh mela, Banaras city, Banarash ghats, gained in translation — No matter what you do here, it’s been done before. There is no space left to lay new foundations. In just one lane of the Kabir Chaura area in Banaras, you can find Padma awardees at a wholesale rate. (Illustration: C R Sasikumar)

I was born in Banaras. I have lived my life here, and now, I am quietly growing old here. And I will die in this place. This life is an exemplification of “sansthapans”, the desire to stay and build in one place — the stepbrother of displacement, of movement.

In the shopping mall of intellectual life, displacement and variety carry great value, and stability — a firm foundation — isn’t worth the soil it’s built on.

This stable life has robbed me of almost everything, except perhaps a modicum of confidence that I am a representative of a great culture and civilisation, and that my life’s work will be seen in its light. Let’s be clear, I have not earned this confidence, neither from talent nor effort. I am but a beneficiary of history, of a cultural tradition that long predates me. But the burden of history, let me tell you, is a weighty problem.

No matter what you do here, it’s been done before. There is no space left to lay new foundations. In just one lane of the Kabir Chaura area in Banaras, you can find Padma awardees at a wholesale rate. Sidheshwari Devi, Sitara Devi, Gopikrishan, Kishan Maharaj, Samta Prasad and Rajan-Sajan Mishra are neighbours. A little way away, you will find the legacy of Ravi Shankar, Bismillah Khan and Chhannulal Mishra. Behind the police thana, there’s Jayshankar ‘Prasad’ ki dukaan, and next door, Bhartendu Harishchandra’s haveli. If one spot is where Agha Hashar Kashmiri was born, close by you’ll find where Premchand died.

It’s a saving grace that my memory only stretches back a couple of hundred years, and not back to the 16th century, when Kabir and Tulsi stood on the balconies and looked down, and looked ahead.

I am always surrounded, enveloped, by the clouds of this great geography. But a culture doesn’t just touch great heights, it has its troughs and plateaus too. My life is one of those plateaus, and people like me are the khaad-paani (fodder) of this great heritage. But remember, there is more khaad-paani in Banaras than most places. Yes, in Banaras too, a genius like Kishan Maharaj is a once-in-a-generation tabla talent, but in its streets, talented, competent tabalchis are available in numbers and densities unparalleled anywhere else in the country. The same holds true for dance, the sitar, acting, painting and even the written word.