02/10/2017
Stories of Serenity
Entry #27 - Aishwarya Verma | Varanasi
I am Aishwarya Verma,and I belong to the holy city of Varanasi,but there is a different side to it which I am more in love with.At present,I am pursuing MPMIR from Banaras Hindu University after completing my bachelors in Journalism and Mass Communication.My name starts with the alphabet A and the word artistic describes me the best,which also implies that I attempt and enjoy various forms of art,be it writing,reading,craft work,music,documentaries and ad making,dance and theatre.
I have a different perspective to view mundane situations of everyday life and believe in delivering my best at whatever I do.
I am creative,friendly,fun loving and workaholic.
I feel,if Varanasi decided to personify itself in the form of a woman,this is what it would look like..And I have described her in these lines.. "I halted as she beamed, on the banks of the turquoise Ganges, Adorned with bijouterie from the box of golden heritage Draped in the saffron silk of tradition, The calm on her face sang a soulful melody, Her kohl black eyes were the door to salvation, And that skittish smile Oh!, fleeted the playful side of hers “MY CITY PERSONIFIED”, stood on the banks of the Holy Ganges.."
It's a montage of images,describing what I found when I looked for "Life in the city of death".The description goes as follows: "The chat and Kachori, the paan with gilori, Every tongue tastes life, every eye flashes life, The city of elevation, of death and salvation Whenever opens its mouth, only speaks of life..." Melody of subah e banaras, the saffron clad sadhus on the ghats,the tranquil flow of Ganges,scent of flowers mixed with incense sticks in the ancient temples,threads of Gold zaris in the handloom of the banarasi saris,the bangles and accessories, mouthwatering sweets and savouries, Brewed cappuccino in the artistic roof top cafés, the narrow streets and the Chaotic markets.. Life emanates through every stone, every nook and corner of this city.. If you hear closely, even the pyres of wood, smoke filled sky and the burning corpses whisper life, because, the spinning cycle of soul sings,"Death is the beginning of life.." And here we send, a few snaps, which give glimpses of "vividly glistening life in the city of death" , like the "stars twinkling in the dark,on the canvas of night sky.."