Varanasi, A city where time seems to stand still, yet everything flows—like the sacred Ganges that cradles its soul. I arrived with curiosity and a camera, unaware that I was about to be swept into a kaleidoscope of color, chaos, devotion, and revelation.
Ancient chants echo through fog-laced mornings; glowing diyas float under twilight skies. In this city of contrasts—where life and death dance side by side—I discovered something deeper than wanderlust. I found awakening. Varanasi isn’t just a destination; it’s a pilgrimage into the raw, spiritual heart of India—and perhaps, into yourself.
1. Introduction: Facing My Travel Biases
Let’s face it: we all have that one place we’ve already made our minds up about—without ever stepping foot in it.
For me, it was Varanasi, India.
I had heard every cliché in the book:
- “It’s too crowded.”
- “The Ganges is dirty.”
- “It smells awful.”
- “It’s spiritual, but too overwhelming.”
But something changed when I finally went. What I thought would be a loud, chaotic, smelly ordeal turned out to be one of the most transformative journeys of my life.
Here’s how one of the oldest living cities in the world rewrote the story I had in my head—and filled it with colors, chants, smells, rituals, people, and surprises I never saw coming.
2. Setting Expectations: Why Varanasi Had a Bad Rap
Before I visited, Varanasi seemed like everything I disliked in travel:
- Over-tourism: So many spiritual tourists that it felt commodified.
- Pollution: The Ganges River is globally known for its pollution levels.
- Cultural Overload: Constant rituals, fire, smoke, and chanting? I wasn’t sure I’d connect.
- Infrastructure Issues: Narrow alleys, lack of public toilets, waterlogged streets during rains.
Data seemed to support these concerns:
- In 2023, the Ganges at Varanasi had a faecal coliform count exceeding 1.5 million MPN/100 ml, far above the safe level of 500.
- Only ~12,000 hotel beds were officially registered to handle a city receiving 11 crore+ tourists per year.
- Varanasi regularly ranks among India’s most congested cities, with average road speeds of less than 20 km/h in many inner zones.
These weren’t minor issues. They were real. And still—I went.
3. Tourism Explosion: Numbers Don’t Lie
Varanasi is not just a cultural destination anymore—it’s a tourism phenomenon.
Tourism Growth Stats (2024–2025):
| Metric | 2023 | 2024 | % Increase |
|---|---|---|---|
| Domestic Tourists | 10.19 crore | 11.01 crore | 8% |
| Foreign Tourists | ~99,000 | ~150,000 | 34.2% |
| Q1 Visitors | 2.56 crore | 11.46 crore | 77.6% (YoY for 2025 Q1) |
Sources:
This isn’t a quiet spiritual haven—it’s a tourism megacity.
Yet, instead of deterring me, this surge hinted at something magnetic. Why were millions pouring in? I had to find out.
4. First Impressions: A Shock to the Senses
Expectation: Chaos
Reality: Orchestrated Chaos
I arrived by train. The moment I stepped out, I was enveloped by a maelstrom of honks, incense, cows, hawkers, and humanity. My senses were ambushed. I wanted to run.
But I paused. Watched. The rhythm in the madness revealed itself:
- The tea seller’s whistle synchronized with the temple bell.
- Devotees weaved between auto-rickshaws like water around rocks.
- Street dogs lazed peacefully as pilgrims stepped around them.
This wasn’t chaos. This was Varanasi’s choreography.
5. The Humanity of the Lanes
I got lost in the galis—those impossibly narrow alleys. I wandered for hours, discovering:
- A 98-year-old woman selling fresh jasmine garlands
- A hand-painted sign: “You are not lost. You are in Kashi.”
- Children offering me a seat to play a game called pitthu (seven stones)
No tourist map could’ve shown me this.
6. The Ugly Side: And Why I Now Accept It
Not everything was magical. Let’s be honest:
- Yes, there was human waste on the road.
- Yes, some ghats reeked of decaying offerings.
- Yes, scammers approached me multiple times.
But it taught me something deeper:
Spirituality doesn’t need perfection. It thrives in imperfection.
The rawness of Varanasi is what made it so real. Unlike picture-perfect cities, Varanasi never pretended to be easy. But it always gave meaning.
7. Data-Driven Impact: How Tourism Changed Varanasi
Employment:
- Over 2 lakh jobs directly created in tourism and hospitality since 2018
- Artisans and silk weavers saw 30–40% rise in income
Environment:
- Varanasi scored 100/100 in air-quality improvement (among just 2 cities in India)
- Over 25,000 kg/day of biodegradable waste processed now, up from 3,000 kg/day in 2020
Infrastructure:
- Over 1,200 new hotels/guest houses registered post-corridor
- Lal Bahadur Shastri Airport now handles 4.2 million+ passengers/year
8. Final Reflection: What Varanasi Taught Me
I went to Varanasi expecting discomfort. I came back with clarity.
What I thought would repel me—the noise, the mess, the contradictions—instead grounded me. Varanasi didn’t ask me to filter anything. It didn’t hide its flaws. It offered me the full spectrum: life and death, ritual and routine, beauty and decay, faith and fatigue.
In a world obsessed with curated travel and photogenic perfection, Varanasi stood unfiltered. It challenged my idea of what makes a place “worth visiting.” It reminded me that travel isn’t always about escape. Sometimes, it’s about confrontation—of biases, of discomfort, of the self.
I didn’t fall in love with Varanasi because it was easy. I fell in love because it was honest.
And sometimes, honesty is the rarest form of beauty a city can offer.
When I first booked my ticket to Varanasi, I imagined it would be a box to check off—a place I’d visit just to say I’d been, then quickly move on from.
But what I didn’t expect was that this sacred, ancient city—built on the banks of the Ganges and soaked in layers of faith, decay, and rebirth—would leave an imprint on me that no camera or journal entry could fully capture.
Here’s what Varanasi taught me—not just as a traveler, but as a human being.
1. True Beauty Is Found in Imperfection
In Varanasi, beauty doesn’t wear polish. It’s not about spotless streets, manicured gardens, or luxury resorts.
It’s in:
- the cracked steps of the ghats,
- the smoke-stained temple walls,
- the worn hands of an old man folding marigold garlands.
The city taught me to see beauty beyond the surface. It forced me to let go of my conditioned idea that beautiful must also mean clean or quiet.
In Varanasi, everything is raw—and that’s where its truth lies. There is something incredibly humbling about watching life unfold in such an unfiltered way. It’s chaotic, and it’s alive.
2. Death Isn’t the End—It’s a Reminder to Live Fully
The cremation ghats are not hidden. They’re public, loud, and unapologetically visible. At Manikarnika Ghat, I saw open flames consuming the last remains of someone’s loved one. There were no curtains of privacy, no quiet sobbing.
Instead, there was ritual, acceptance, and a spiritual understanding that death is not taboo—it’s the most honest part of life.
And suddenly, I was no longer afraid to face mortality.
Varanasi taught me to:
- stop postponing dreams,
- speak my truth more freely,
- live each day not in fear of the end, but in honor of the time I have left.
3. Flow Like the Ganges: Don’t Resist Life
The Ganges River is the soul of Varanasi. Despite the pollution and the waste, it continues to flow—welcoming every pilgrim, every offering, every prayer.
It doesn’t stop. It doesn’t fight. It doesn’t discriminate.
Watching it every day made me realize how often I resist change, hold grudges, or get stuck in my own head. The river doesn’t do that—it just flows, endlessly.
That’s when I learned: life doesn’t need to be controlled. It needs to be embraced.
4. Hospitality Doesn’t Come From Wealth—It Comes From the Heart
One of the most memorable parts of my journey was the people. Not the guides, not the hotel staff, but the everyday citizens:
- A chai vendor who refused to take money from me because “a guest is a god.”
- A boatman who sang old Kabir bhajans as he rowed me across the Ganges.
- A young girl who invited me to sit during a street puja and offered me prasad with shy eyes.
None of them were rich. Most lived on very little. But their kindness and generosity made me feel richer than any luxury hotel ever could.
5. Spirituality is Not an Escape—It’s a Daily Practice
Before visiting, I thought spirituality was something abstract—meant for monks, saints, or yogis.
In Varanasi, I realized it’s woven into everyday life:
- The milkman chants a mantra as he walks.
- The weaver hums bhajans under his breath while working.
- A woman lights a diya outside her home as the sun sets.
There is no division between “sacred” and “ordinary” here. It’s all one.
And it taught me that I don’t need to go on silent retreats or meditate in the Himalayas. Spirituality can live in small acts, spoken words, mindful thoughts.
6. Let Go of Control, and Let Life Surprise You
My original itinerary was a tight schedule of temples, markets, and museums. But Varanasi had other plans.
I got lost in the alleyways. I missed planned tours. I sat through unplanned rituals. I ended up spending hours talking to a sadhu who insisted that “all plans are ego.”
He was right.
Sometimes, the best thing you can do is surrender—to the moment, to the mess, to the magic of the unknown.
7. Not All Experiences Are Comfortable—But They’re All Valuable
There were moments in Varanasi that genuinely challenged me:
- The smell at the ghats was overpowering.
- The noise was relentless.
- The sight of human ashes drifting into the river stayed with me.
But growth doesn’t happen in comfort. It happens when you are shaken awake.
Varanasi stripped away my romanticized ideas of travel and replaced them with something more powerful: a deeper understanding of life and humanity.
8. Varanasi Didn’t Just Change My Opinion—It Changed My Soul
I went to Varanasi expecting to hate it. I left feeling like I had been reborn.
It taught me to look deeper, listen better, and live more honestly. It reminded me that discomfort is not something to run from—but something to learn from.
Varanasi is not for everyone. But if you let it, this ancient city will not only welcome you—it will awaken you.
9. Soulful Things to Do in Varanasi (That Will Stay With You Forever)
Beyond the guidebooks and Google searches, here are the experiences that left a lasting mark on me:
1. Witness the Morning Ganga Aarti at Assi Ghat
It’s quieter, more intimate than the famous evening aarti. Arrive before dawn. Let the soft mantras, rising sun, and river breeze awaken you gently.
2. Take a Wooden Boat Ride at Sunrise or Sunset
Forget the motorboats. Hire a rowboat. Let the gentle creaking of wood and rhythm of oars tell the stories of centuries.
3. Attend a Classical Music Performance
Varanasi is the cradle of Indian classical music. Catch a live sitar or tabla recital at a ghat or cultural center.
4. Explore the Weaver’s Neighborhood in Madanpura
Visit silk weavers who create Banarasi sarees by hand. Watch the threads shimmer, and see how faith is woven into every strand.
5. Get Lost in the Galis (Alleys)
No GPS. Just wander. Let the scents of sandalwood and spice guide you. Let the walls talk. Let the chaos invite you in.
6. Visit the Bharat Kala Bhavan Museum
Tucked inside Banaras Hindu University, it holds treasures of art, sculptures, and rare manuscripts dating back centuries.
7. Try a Paal Kachori and Tamatar Chaat at Kashi Chaat Bhandar
Because Varanasi’s soul isn’t just in temples—it’s in the food too. Sweet, spicy, tangy—a riot of flavors, like the city itself.
8. Sit Silently at Manikarnika Ghat
No photos. No commentary. Just be. Watch the circle of life unfold before you—and feel your own place within it.
9. Join a Local Festival
Whether it’s Dev Deepawali, Maha Shivaratri, or Holi—the city turns into a canvas of devotion, fire, light, and color. You won’t just watch—you’ll become part of it.
10. Meet a Sadhu (Respectfully)
Strike up a conversation—with humility. These ascetics have wisdom born of solitude and surrender. You may not agree with them, but you’ll never forget them.
10. Would I Go Back?
Without a doubt.
Not to check off more sights—but to feel again.
To hear the clang of temple bells at sunrise.
To drink chai at the same corner stall.
To breathe in the scent of burning ghee and old wood.
To remember who I was—and who I became—on the banks of the Ganges.
11. Call to You, the Reader
If Varanasi is on your bucket list, stop waiting.
But don’t come expecting perfection. Come for truth.
Come with open eyes, but more importantly, an open heart.
You may leave with dust on your shoes and questions in your mind—but you’ll carry something else too: a deeper connection to the cycle of life, the soul of India, and the mysterious, eternal flow of your own journey.
Varanasi doesn’t just change how you travel—it changes how you see.
