Pha-Pho-Phu-Pha-Pha!” That was the boatman on the Ganga at Varanasi, explaining the names of all the ancient ghats to us. Kya??? “Pha-Pho-Phu-Pha-Pha!” he repeated, only much louder. I had taken Amma, Indu Shedde, 96, on a trip to Benares. Just a few minutes earlier, the boatman had very politely assured us, “Main aapko Banaras ke poore ghat bataoonga” —I’ll show you all the ghats of Benares. And then he popped a Banarasi paan or two in his mouth, and bas, that was itthe rest of the evening was a series of plosive sounds weaseling their way through the paan in his bulging mouth. I wanted to tell him, ya aap paan khao, ya hame guide karo (either you eat paan or guide us). Instead, I let him enjoy his paan, and simply let Varanasi do the talking. So we glided in the boat at sunset, watching Varanasi’s ghats from the river, till the full moon rose, and they had the showstopper Ganga aarti at the Dashashwamedh ghat.

We were staying at the Bal Ashram, whose head, Tejbalji, had kindly arranged a wheelchair for Amma all the way: three men lifted her wheelchair right down the steps of Assi Ghat, and amazingly, placed it right inside the boat! We went past many ghats, including the Manikarnika Ghat, where bodies of the dead are cremated all day and night, Brahma Ghat, Hanuman Ghat, Munshi Ghat (after Munshi Premchand: a writer gets sanctified, bravo!) and Meer (Mir) Ghat. The last was named after the Muslim commander Mir Rustam Ali, Faujdar of Kashi, who built the fort-ghat in 1735 AD at Lahori Tola, according to the UP Tourism government website. Anytime now a resolution can be expected, renaming it Mirabai Ghat at Lakshman Tola, so the new generation learns a “pavitra”, rewritten history. Likewise, the renovated Khidkiya Ghat has been renamed Namo Ghat, with jaw-dropping modesty, effortlessly inscribing a contemporary politician into the pantheon of the gods—
but, of course, the name only means a salutation.