Don’t be surprised by the first word in the heading. Blame its presence, if you will, on the benign effect of Tom Hodgkinson of How to be Idle fame. I was an idler long before I associated my mindset and personality traits with those of fellow idlers, Tom included. The ghats of Varanasi were the training ground for the young idler in me, but this post is not about me. It’s about idling at ghats of Varanasi. The old Banarsi (adj. that belonging to Varanasi) culture has both space and respect for idling. There was space devoted for that use and it was known as nichaddam (Sanskrit nishabdam: quiet and calm, a place where one may spend time away from the pressure of the city). Idling was an integral part of the rhythm of a true Banarsi’s life.
In fact, I can claim with pride that public sphere in the city I grew up in always gave respect to the basic daily human need of idling. Safa-pani (toilet and cleaning clothes and body), bhang ghotai (the elaborate preparation of marijuana leaves paste), thandai (a cold drink spiked with marijuana paste) etc. went hand in hand with nichaddam to make idling a coveted activity. The other bank of the river, along with the deserted areas out of the city’s boundaries, has always been a place where citizens of Varanasi escaped to enjoy the above mentioned activities at their leisurely pace. Varanasi always had a large proportion of businessmen and service-men in its overall population.
Idling at Ghats of Varanasi
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