Benaras - Through my Lenses 1

Me and myself, I ushered myself into a boat for my time on the Ganges, as dawn held its breath. Wrapped in the stillness of that sacred hour, I began my tryst with Gangaji. She flowed slowly, timeless and knowing, receiving me not as a visitor but as one who had always belonged. In that hushed communion, I melted into her ancient rhythm—where river, breath, and being dissolved into one.

As the sun rose gently, bathing the river in molten gold and turning the sky a deep, sacred orange, the moment felt ethereal. It was as if the universe reached out, took my hand, and revealed only what my soul was ready to see. That quiet, esoteric mysticism—where time softens and faith breathes—is Benaras.

And in my RuHH, my soul, there rose a sacred resonance, ancient and eternal:

the ancient prayer completed itself—peace in the body, peace in the mind, peace in the cosmos:
Shantih… Shantih… Shantih.