Odessa 2019

The Steps of Varanaci

In early February, as the Indian heatwave was approaching the South at the speed of a local passenger train, I was already rushing towards the centre of the country, the legendary Varanasi. It took two days to find accommodation. Luck smiled with a full moon and a meeting with Muna, the owner of a commune of five floors. The inner terraces of the floors echoed with the sounds of guests. Among them were many musicians and travellers from Bob Marley.

On the 5th floor, under the scorching sun lived the captain, a Greek with a resinous beard, a skilful macramé master. He introduced me to his crew and sailed the Ganges until he fell ill. Almost no one escaped this fate and we shared recipes to save our stomachs. Everything was on the verge of exhaustion and a new beginning. I waited patiently, down the steps to the Ganges and up the steps, seeking what words could not convey.

We would gather at Babaji’s place and he would brew tea on the terrace. This tea cost only 5 rupees, but the cup was small. You have to order three times.

A thick sweetish air permeated the coast and boats along the shore adorned the Ganges like a necklace. They brought back memories as they sailed between two sacred places. Ten years ago I was different, but Varanasi is eternal. A portal to other worlds. It teaches you to read the signs along the way. Varanasi’s steps are twice as high as normal, there are eighty-six of them terraced to boats and swelling joints slowing down.

Victor Ratushny