Varanasi - Betrothed by the Ganges

The steps leading to the river was tiled grey. The morning was damp though and the air was filled with fumes of burning garbage - almost choking. It was hard to meander your way across the homeless and the godly but somehow I made it through the rubble of Kashi. What was really difficult to fathom was how such murky waters can be considered holy. To think that some day the river Ganges might dry up brought images of floating corpses and bones of those untouched by fire. A vision less palatable than the barrage of sweaty, cotton draped men and women chanting the songs of ignorant celebration. The days are becoming more and more tiring I realised.

One thing that has come good out of my isolation is the fact that after much negotiations and banter by go-betweens, the day has finally arrived. I will get to meet my one true love.

Among the cacaphonous chants of veneration, there stood a man in his royal regalia - my eyes transfixed by his beckoning call - distant yet familiar. The bearded man in his turban stood waiting for the barge to come to a full stop. He was alone. His broad smile and shoulders halted his obvious excitement at my arrival. His love for me was apparent- time stood still between him and I at that moment. Expectations and composure held on. Neither he nor I could escape our excitement which was at breaking point. We were married a long time ago when I first saw him on one of his many hunting escapades. He was magnificent yet kind - gentle beyond words.

I felt vulnerable but unabashed at the expected union; yet in a strange way, it was almost celluloid in nature. The images were fading from colour to black and white in between takes. His silhouette defined yet I could not see his face. It was like being, existing and feeling all these places and people instantaneously - a multitude of emotions pounding through your veins. Standing by the steps, neither there nor on the barge - the images taking turns were as clear as daylight.

Taking his hand, I woke up to find myself in bed - the alarm jolting me back to the now.

Who is this man, was it a stolen moment in time and where did it all begin?

Hadi's dreams continues.......