DELHI is mad, musty and magical. The heady smells of spices, burning incense and sun-baked dirt roads mingle with the hot, dusty air and float past you like silk scarves in the wind. People, bikes, cars and bright, green-and-yellow rickshaws are everywhere. The sound of horns and fruit sellers permeate the air until you can hardly hear them anymore – they all become part of the ever-playing cacophony of the city.
A nun prays at a temple in India
I arrived on a bright, humid morning and went directly to the village-sized Ashok Hotel – a five-star oasis, decked in chandeliers and marble. After settling into my large suite, I jumped in a taxi to the Red Fort, an enormous ancient structure in the centre of the city. On the way back, we passed the imposing India Gate. Hundreds of people, like characters in a painting, walked in its shadow as the red, smoke-veiled sun began to set behind it.
Buddhism in India
I was there for a conclave on Buddhism, and monks and nuns from all over the world were starting to arrive. That evening, during dinner at one of the hotel’s many restaurants, a table of monks from a monastery in Thailand sat behind me.The next morning, on our tour to more of Delhi’s sights, more had arrived – monasteries from Cambodia, America, Bhutan, Australia and more were represented. I was going to walk the trail of the Buddha with them, through some of India’s most illustrious Buddhist destinations. Delhi is a wonderful place to start; there, people, structures and ancient history from almost every religion and culture exist alongside one another in harmony.
Humayuns Tomb in Delhi
We went together to Qutb Minar, a World Heritage Site that was originally commissioned in 1192AD, and the Mughal emperor Humayun’s Tomb. It was there that I met a monk from a monastery in Cambodia, who was taking pictures of the impressive building on his iPad. Later, at a grand dinner in Varanasi, I’d ask him about his use of technology – I assumed it’d be frowned upon – and he let me know, with a laugh, that there isn’t anything bad about technology or using it, because it connects us to the world. I was learning, slowly.
Nun praying at Bodhi Temple
That evening we were officially welcomed to Delhi with a short concert of traditional Buddhist chanting and talks from a number of dignitaries on the importance of Buddhism to India. The next morning, we’d travel to Varanasi to visit both the ganges and the place the Buddha held his first ceremony, Sarnath. There’s a different kind of enchantment to Varanasi – it’s busy, but not like Delhi.
On narrow dirt roads, cars and rickshaws dodge nonchalant cows who graze on rare tufts of grass and discarded scraps with an unaffected rhythm. Stalls erupting with brick-a-brack, coconuts, freshly cooked dosas, spices and textiles spill into the streets creating an almost-chaos that’s fascinating to watch. This is a place where people flock, like pilgrims. Their goal? The holy waters of The Ganges, where they bathe, pay tribute to their ancestors, say goodbye to loved ones who’ve passed away, and leave flowers and offerings. The atmosphere is electric; everything is moving with the current towards the water.
The Ganges
We were lucky enough to attend a beautiful Aarthi ceremony of the banks of the river on our first evening in Varanasi. The dusty, flame-orange sun was beginning to set and the Indian humidity was dancing with the rocking, darkening water to create a musty white mist that rose like smoke into the sky. People – everywhere – people watched from the sidelines, from the docked boats and from the buildings and shops all around as the chanting began. Soon, flames were floating through the air, gongs and shells were being sounded in harmony and petals were floating in the water. Some hours later we left, in awe, to attend a garden party with skewers of tandoori cooked chicken, lamb and fish, plus countless curries, dhals and local delicacies like jalebi.
The Mahabodhi Temple
Sarnath, which we visited the next morning, was starkly tranquil in comparison. In the quiet morning heat we walked in silence through the grounds that The Buddha walked. The monk I met a few days before was with his large monastery and, when we arrived at Dhamek Stupa, they began to chant and meditate. The monks can chant for hours – my friend told me he could continue for three hours from memory. The morning was just a pause of calm. Later, I got into a rickshaw and asked him to take me to the main shopping street in Varanasi. The precarious wheels trembled as they rocketed over stone streets and swerved past cows and motorbikes and cars, but he got me there. A place like this can be overwhelming; stalls selling everything – spices, cloth, toys, scarves, religious pictures and models – lined the road. You could explore for hours, but I was back to my hotel in a few.
The markets in Varanasi
Next stop: Bodh Gaya. This is a place that feels even more remote, even more removed from what we know. Stretches of yellow-green land are punctuated sparsely with farmers and locals, carrying jars and bundles of wood on their heads. Little road-side shacks sell everything, from dinner to open-air haircuts. My visit here was cut short – my flight back to Delhi was rescheduled for the same day I arrived.
I managed, luckily, to visit one of the most important Buddhist destinations in India: the Bodhi Tree. Here, The Buddha found enlightenment. It radiates with history, leaking its large, tangled limbs over the small fence that’s been built to protect it. Many people sat around it reading or meditating, but I didn’t have time for that. Soon I was back in a taxi to the airport, a little later flying back to Delhi and, early the next morning, packed up and bound for London, which at this point felt like a different world.
by Becky Zanker
The Ashok, New Delhi. Rooms start from £70 per night
For more information about accommodation in Varanasi please go here. And for further details about travelling in India can be found on the Ministry of Tourism/Incredible India site.
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