If a city were to tell India’s tale, it would be Kashi.
Varanasi is not just a place. It’s a story whispered by the river, written in the steps of the ghats, carried in the scent of incense, and sung in the evening aarti.
It doesn’t matter how many times you visit. The magic never fades.
Mornings in Varanasi: Where Time Begins Again
The city awakens long before the sun.
At Assi Ghat, the first chants of the morning aarti rise with the mist, the air filled with the smell of sandalwood and the distant echoes of temple bells.
Take a boat ride at sunrise, watching the city slowly come to life. The sun climbs, painting the river in hues of gold, while life along the ghats continues as it has for centuries—priests offering prayers, sadhus meditating, children splashing in the holy waters.
The river flows. The city breathes. And you, somewhere between the two, feel the weight of time and yet feel completely free.
And just as the morning light settles, run.
Because winter mornings in Banaras mean malaiyyo.
A Taste of Banaras: Flavors That Stay With You
Soft as clouds, sweet as nostalgia—malaiyyo is not just dessert, it’s a fleeting moment. Found only in the early winter mornings, it disappears by noon, much like the morning mist.
Follow it with piping hot aloo puri, the kind that makes you forget every diet plan you ever made.
Walk through the lanes, where the scent of cardamom and ghee lingers in the air, where each turn hides a new flavor waiting to be discovered.
Tamatar chaat at Banaras Chaat Bhandar. A burst of tangy, spicy, smoky goodness—no two bites taste the same.
And if you think food is just food, you haven’t eaten in Varanasi.
The Heart of Kashi: Where Faith Meets Forever
Step into Kashi Vishwanath Temple, where devotion is not just seen, but felt. The air is thick with centuries of faith, with prayers whispered in a thousand different voices, yet somehow all as one.
Pay your respects at Kaal Bhairav Temple, where the protector of the city watches over all who come and go.
And then, wander.
Let your feet guide you through the narrow, bustling alleys where time moves at its own pace. Where past and present exist side by side. Where every shop, every turn, every face has a story waiting to be told.
Evenings at the Ghats: Where the Soul Finds Solace
The day in Varanasi begins with prayer, and it ends with one too.
As the sun sets, the ghats fill with people. Some come to worship. Some come to watch. Some come simply because they don’t know where else to go. And yet, here, on the steps of the ghats, there is peace.
The Ganga Aarti at Dashashwamedh Ghat is not just a ritual. It is devotion in motion. Flames rise, conch shells blow, chants echo into the night. The river reflects it all, carrying the prayers far beyond what the eye can see.
And maybe, that’s why people find solace here.
Because in Varanasi, problems feel smaller.
Because here, the river takes what you give it—your worries, your grief, your past—and carries it away. Or at least, that’s what we choose to believe. So, close your eyes. Feel the soft breeze on your skin. Let this city melt into you, the way it always does.
Because in Banaras, time doesn’t pass—it lingers, like a prayer waiting to be answered.