I had taken an early morning walk southwards from the hostel towards Assi Ghat. I walked till the end of the road where the Ghats ended. To venture further south I would need to walk through the town, which I didn’t want to do. So I returned north to the other end of the city. I reached Manikarnika Ghat beyond the Kashi Vishwanath temple. However, I did not happen to cross the Namo Ghat that I had heard a lot about. Someone said that it was further up north beyond Manikarnika, but boats refused to go there and there was no more road beyond Manikarnika. So I decided to walk through the city.
I followed Google Maps which
didn’t show a direct path to Namo Ghat. I would need to detour from deep into
the town and come back towards the ghats. It was early and I was fresh. I
decided to take the journey. The path would take me through a narrow alley
named Dalmandi Road. Varanasi had a lot of alleys, so that wasn’t surprising.
The surprises started once I entered the alley.
I walked into Dalmandi Road
through the western side and the shift was immediate. The entrance was a
bustling market even in the morning close to the entrance of the Kashi
Vishwanath temple. There were queues of people waiting in line for the temple,
early morning shoppers, breakfast places Varanasi is famous for, or people just
loitering about on a vacation. But just around the corner inside Dalmandi Road
was a completely different vibe.
The place was almost deserted.
I saw perhaps 10 people during the kilometre-long walk. The buildings on
each side of the road were ripped away from the ground. It didn’t feel like a
city anymore. I imagined this would be what war-torn Palestine or Ukraine might
look like. It was also very noticeable that this was predominantly a Muslim
locality. The people I saw on the road had traditional Muslim attire and
beards. There were broken water pipes which still had streams of water, making
parts of the road muddy. It was disturbing that there could be such a view just
next to that bustling market outside. It felt as if I had been transported to
another planet through a portal, and I wasn’t sure if I could go back. If an accident were to
fall upon me in this alley, there was no way anyone could know or I could be
found. I felt away from my home planet. These buildings didn’t seem to be
demolished in an organized manner. The trail of destruction were left behind.
At one point I could see what must have been a dining room at some point, still
intact but the exterior wall was missing. A lot of buildings seemed to just
have been dropped, without any post-cleaning. As if some bombing had occurred
in the street. But why would the bombing happen only on this street, and no
other streets adjoining. I wanted to Google where I was and the history of this
street. But faster than that I wanted to be out of the other end. This was
obviously not safe. I didn’t want to run, lest any stray dogs come after me. I
knew that it was important to appear tough when you’re shit scared.
On returning to the hostel I
Googled and found that there was an active demolition drive at Dalmandi road.
Some articles said that it was because the construction in that lane was
unauthorized – an argument which lent little merit. Varanasi is an ancient
city. Most of the construction in the city is unauthorized. The residences in
narrow lanes predate any civic authority. Even the lanes do not always have names.
The other argument was that it would enable a wide and fast corridor from the
ghats to the Kashi Vishwanath temple. This was an infrastructure improvement
initiative. There is a fierce debate of development vs. preservation that is
intense enough at Varanasi, and we will not get into that in this article. I am
sure the free and fair elections at Varanasi will give verdict to this debate.
But it was interesting to note that only the Muslim locality was targeted for
such infrastructure improvement, in a somewhat traumatic way.
Dalmani Road finds its mention
in the throes of history. It is populated by silk-shops, brothels, and
residences of Muslim shopowners whose shops were on the ground levels of such
structures. It is said to be the place where the revolt of 1857 was planned. I
would believe that, as the best place to plan a revolt would be a narrow Muslim
Lane in a vastly Hindu religious city inside a brothel. There can be no better
cover. That history is now rubble. I am sure there will be vast improvements to
the Shiv temple in lieu of the destruction. I doubted if the God of destruction appreciated this violence in his name.
