I live in India and have traveled all over the country — but there's just one city I'd revisit again and again
The city has a rich, spiritual history, but for me, it was just a spot on my bucket list.
Then, the first time I visited, I fell in love with the city's beauty, street food, and history.
I've spent years traveling across India — from getting stuck in Mumbai traffic to beach-hopping in Goa, road-tripping through the Himalayas, exploring Rajasthan's palaces, eating my way through Old Delhi, and chasing waterfalls in Meghalaya's misty hills.
Yet somehow, I'd never been to Varanasi.
When I finally visited last summer, it felt strange to admit I was a first-timer. One of the world's oldest continuously inhabited cities, Varanasi is hardly a secret. For many Hindus, it's a sacred place to wash away sins in the Ganges (India's holiest of rivers) or seek moksha, freedom from the cycle of rebirth.
I wasn't chasing either. I went out of curiosity, expecting to check a few sights off my list and move on.
Instead, the city got under my skin in the best way.
I've been all over India, but Varanasi still felt like a completely new place.
I live in India, so I'm not easily fazed by crowds or chaos. Somehow, though, Varanasi felt like another dimension.
I checked into a hotel near Assi Ghat, toward the south of the city, and set out on foot.
The gullies, or lanes, twisted like a maze. One moment, I was dodging scooters and cows; the next, I was sidestepping puddles and flower petals, while monkeys leaped over tin roofs.
Then, at the end of a lane, I saw the Ganges. It was wide and still, and something about it caught me off guard. I just stood there for a minute, taking it in — calm and quiet, even though everything else around me felt loud and intense.
I visited the city's sacred cremation grounds and was surprised that I didn't feel at all uneasy.
Later that day, I walked to Manikarnika Ghat, the city's main cremation site and one of more than 80 ghats (or riverfront steps) lining the Ganges. I'd heard about it, but being there in person was something else.
I watched a body burning on a wooden pyre. Just steps away, a chai vendor was serving tea, kids were playing, and men were bathing in the river.
It didn't feel morbid. It felt deeply human, like life and death weren't opposites, but part of the same cycle that shaped the city.
I expected spirituality, but I found something else.
That evening, I joined a group on a small boat to watch the Ganga Aarti at Dashashwamedh Ghat, near Kashi Vishwanath Temple. It's a devotional ritual that uses fire as an offering to the river.
The banks were packed. Priests in saffron robes waved multi-tiered lamps and incense sticks in synchrony, as cymbals clanged and chants filled the air. Phone screens glowed across the crowd.
To me, it felt less like a religious ritual and more like a well-rehearsed performance. The ceremony itself was powerful, but because of the mix of people watching it — pilgrims, locals, foreign tourists — was even more moving.
The street food was some of the best I've had in India.
Varanasi is a street food haven, and a few dishes stood out enough that I'd go back just to eat them.
One of my favorite meals involved tamatar chaat (mashed tomato mix topped with crispy lentils, chutneys, and house spices) and palak patta chaat (deep-fried spinach leaves topped with yogurt and tamarind sauce) at Deena Chaat Bhandar, a legendary stall that's served locals for over five decades.
I also enjoyed eating aloo kachori (a fried bread ball typically stuffed with potato) and jalebis (coiled, deep-fried sweets soaked in sugar syrup) at the iconic Ram Bhandar.
Blue Lassi, a tiny, photo-plastered shop in the old city, served the best saffron lassi (yogurt drink) I've ever had. I'd often end the day with a paan (a betel leaf packed with areca nuts, rose jam, and slivers of coconut) from a roadside stall.
I also loved taking a quick visit to Sarnath, about 30 minutes away.
On my second day, I took a quick trip to Sarnath, a nearby town where the Buddha gave his first sermon.
I visited the Wat Thai temple, where I saw an 80-foot Buddha statue. On the way back, I stopped at the Sarnath Art Gallery, where I watched a man give a live demo of how Banarasi saris are made.
"Banaras is known for two things — paan and saris," he said, grinning. "The paan's in my mouth. The sari's on the loom."
I'd always seen saris just as wedding wear. Watching how much time and skill went into every thread gave me a new appreciation for them as pieces of artwork.
I visited Varanasi just to check it off my list — but now, I can't wait to return.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Business Insider
09-07-2025
- Business Insider
I live in India and have traveled all over the country — but there's just one city I'd revisit again and again
I live in India and have traveled all over the country — but it took me a while to visit Varanasi. The city has a rich, spiritual history, but for me, it was just a spot on my bucket list. Then, the first time I visited, I fell in love with the city's beauty, street food, and history. I've spent years traveling across India — from getting stuck in Mumbai traffic to beach-hopping in Goa, road-tripping through the Himalayas, exploring Rajasthan's palaces, eating my way through Old Delhi, and chasing waterfalls in Meghalaya's misty hills. Yet somehow, I'd never been to Varanasi. When I finally visited last summer, it felt strange to admit I was a first-timer. One of the world's oldest continuously inhabited cities, Varanasi is hardly a secret. For many Hindus, it's a sacred place to wash away sins in the Ganges (India's holiest of rivers) or seek moksha, freedom from the cycle of rebirth. I wasn't chasing either. I went out of curiosity, expecting to check a few sights off my list and move on. Instead, the city got under my skin in the best way. I've been all over India, but Varanasi still felt like a completely new place. I live in India, so I'm not easily fazed by crowds or chaos. Somehow, though, Varanasi felt like another dimension. I checked into a hotel near Assi Ghat, toward the south of the city, and set out on foot. The gullies, or lanes, twisted like a maze. One moment, I was dodging scooters and cows; the next, I was sidestepping puddles and flower petals, while monkeys leaped over tin roofs. Then, at the end of a lane, I saw the Ganges. It was wide and still, and something about it caught me off guard. I just stood there for a minute, taking it in — calm and quiet, even though everything else around me felt loud and intense. I visited the city's sacred cremation grounds and was surprised that I didn't feel at all uneasy. Later that day, I walked to Manikarnika Ghat, the city's main cremation site and one of more than 80 ghats (or riverfront steps) lining the Ganges. I'd heard about it, but being there in person was something else. I watched a body burning on a wooden pyre. Just steps away, a chai vendor was serving tea, kids were playing, and men were bathing in the river. It didn't feel morbid. It felt deeply human, like life and death weren't opposites, but part of the same cycle that shaped the city. I expected spirituality, but I found something else. That evening, I joined a group on a small boat to watch the Ganga Aarti at Dashashwamedh Ghat, near Kashi Vishwanath Temple. It's a devotional ritual that uses fire as an offering to the river. The banks were packed. Priests in saffron robes waved multi-tiered lamps and incense sticks in synchrony, as cymbals clanged and chants filled the air. Phone screens glowed across the crowd. To me, it felt less like a religious ritual and more like a well-rehearsed performance. The ceremony itself was powerful, but because of the mix of people watching it — pilgrims, locals, foreign tourists — was even more moving. The street food was some of the best I've had in India. Varanasi is a street food haven, and a few dishes stood out enough that I'd go back just to eat them. One of my favorite meals involved tamatar chaat (mashed tomato mix topped with crispy lentils, chutneys, and house spices) and palak patta chaat (deep-fried spinach leaves topped with yogurt and tamarind sauce) at Deena Chaat Bhandar, a legendary stall that's served locals for over five decades. I also enjoyed eating aloo kachori (a fried bread ball typically stuffed with potato) and jalebis (coiled, deep-fried sweets soaked in sugar syrup) at the iconic Ram Bhandar. Blue Lassi, a tiny, photo-plastered shop in the old city, served the best saffron lassi (yogurt drink) I've ever had. I'd often end the day with a paan (a betel leaf packed with areca nuts, rose jam, and slivers of coconut) from a roadside stall. I also loved taking a quick visit to Sarnath, about 30 minutes away. On my second day, I took a quick trip to Sarnath, a nearby town where the Buddha gave his first sermon. I visited the Wat Thai temple, where I saw an 80-foot Buddha statue. On the way back, I stopped at the Sarnath Art Gallery, where I watched a man give a live demo of how Banarasi saris are made. "Banaras is known for two things — paan and saris," he said, grinning. "The paan's in my mouth. The sari's on the loom." I'd always seen saris just as wedding wear. Watching how much time and skill went into every thread gave me a new appreciation for them as pieces of artwork. I visited Varanasi just to check it off my list — but now, I can't wait to return.
Time Business News
26-06-2025
- Time Business News
Sikkim Tourism Guide for Nature, Culture, and Peace Seekers
Sikkim, tucked in the northeast of India, offers a rare balance of nature, culture, and calm. With its high-altitude lakes, ancient monasteries, and green valleys, Sikkim Tourism has grown steadily among travelers who prefer raw beauty and depth over commercial hotspots. It's a region where every road leads to a story—be it of snow peaks, prayer flags, or age-old traditions. What makes Sikkim Tourism stand out is not just the place but the pace. Unlike crowded tourist zones, Sikkim still holds its identity. Whether you're a solo traveler seeking silence, a photographer chasing Himalayan sunrises, or a family looking to spend slow days in nature—Sikkim fits. The people are warm, the food is simple yet rich, and the environment breathes purity. You can reach Sikkim via Bagdogra Airport or New Jalpaiguri railway station in West Bengal, followed by a road journey. The new Pakyong Airport near Gangtok has also made access smoother. The best months to visit are from March to June and from late September to December. Winters turn the higher regions icy and magical, while spring dresses the land in blooms. Gangtok is the state's capital and the primary hub for Sikkim Tourism. It's not just a base for other destinations, but a blend of tradition and modernity. You can walk the MG Road without being chased by vendors, visit monasteries like Rumtek and Enchey, and sip butter tea in a quiet café—all in one day. Gangtok is clean, disciplined, and rich with charm that sticks. Lachung, Yumthang Valley, and Gurudongmar Lake form the soul of North Sikkim. These areas demand permits due to their proximity to international borders, but the extra steps are worth it. Gurudongmar, one of the world's highest lakes, remains frozen for most of the year and reflects a stillness that's hard to put into words. Lachung is a sleepy village with wooden homes and whispers of the past. The journey to these places is bumpy, slow, and often unpredictable—but that's what gives it value. Sikkim Tourism here is less about comfort and more about presence. South Sikkim attracts fewer tourists but holds some of the most important cultural sites. Namchi, the district headquarters, has the massive statue of Guru Padmasambhava on Samdruptse Hill. Temi Tea Garden, the state's only tea estate, offers walks among rolling hills and green rows that seem painted on the land. For those interested in religious history, Char Dham and the Siddheswar Dham complex in Namchi blend pilgrimage and architecture with quiet hill views. If Sikkim Tourism has a spiritual side, it resides in West Sikkim. Pelling, a small town, is home to Pemayangtse Monastery, one of the oldest and most revered in the region. From here, the views of Kanchenjunga—India's second-highest peak—are breathtaking on clear mornings. Khecheopalri Lake, sacred to both Buddhists and Hindus, lies quietly in this region. The lake is never allowed to be disturbed; even leaves are said to be swept away by birds. This region teaches patience and rewards it with depth. The famous Tsomgo Lake (Changu Lake) and Nathu La Pass to the China border fall under East Sikkim. These spots are frequently visited under Sikkim Tourism due to their iconic status and easy reach from Gangtok. Tsomgo Lake changes color with seasons—sometimes blue, sometimes icy white. Nathu La, if open to tourists on specific days, is a reminder of Sikkim's location at the edge of India. The crisp air and waving flags make these spots more than just checkpoints—they are landmarks of pride. Sikkim's food is clean, local, and deeply influenced by its geography. You'll find dishes like Phagshapa (pork with radish), gundruk soup (fermented leafy greens), and the famous momo served at street corners and homestays alike. The food here tells a story—of highlands, resourcefulness, and community. The cultural blend of Lepchas, Bhutias, and Nepalese communities gives Sikkim Tourism its emotional tone. Festivals like Losar (Tibetan New Year), Pang Lhabsol (honoring the mountain guardian), and Tihar (like Diwali) are all celebrated with spirit. Due to its proximity to international borders, Sikkim requires permits for many regions, especially for non-Indian nationals. The Protected Area Permit (PAP) and Inner Line Permit (ILP) are handled easily by tour operators and government counters. What adds true value to Sikkim Tourism is the state's approach to conservation. Plastic is banned. Homestays are encouraged over large hotels. Locals participate in every aspect of tourism—from guiding to cooking. As a traveler, it's essential to match that respect. Avoid litter, stay with locals when possible, and engage rather than consume. No trip through Sikkim Tourism is complete without stopping at local markets. The Directorate of Handicrafts and Handloom in Gangtok is a great place to understand and buy local crafts—thangkas (painted scrolls), wool carpets, carved wooden tables, and handmade paper products. Rural weekly markets in smaller towns are also treasure troves. Instead of souvenirs, you'll find hand-woven items, organic honey, and pickles passed through generations. Monasteries in Sikkim are more than religious structures—they're silent keepers of time. Rumtek Monastery, the largest, is colorful and calm. Enchey Monastery sits close to Gangtok but feels miles away from noise. Tashiding Monastery, in the west, requires a small trek but the quiet at the top is worth it. Each monastery has chants, murals, and incense that wrap you in a feeling both warm and humbling. Spiritual tourism is not a buzzword here—it's woven into daily life. Though it's often seen as a calm destination, Sikkim Tourism also includes rugged treks and river thrills. The Goechala Trek is popular among serious hikers—it takes you close to Kanchenjunga and through dense forests, rhododendron trails, and alpine lakes. White-water rafting on the Teesta River and paragliding near Gangtok are available for those looking for action. Mountain biking, especially in the South and West districts, is slowly growing. One of the strongest pillars of Sikkim Tourism is its village homestay movement. Places like Dzongu (a Lepcha reserve), Yuksom, and Kewzing offer stays with local families. These homes may not offer room service, but they give you priceless conversations, homemade food, and insight into real life in the hills. Waking up to wood-fired kitchens, stepping out to fields, and sitting on wooden porches under starry skies—that's what many find more memorable than hotel stays. Sikkim is India's first fully organic state. No chemical fertilizers, no pesticides. From cabbage to cardamom, what grows here is clean and cared for. The government has strict rules against deforestation and plastic use. Solar lights, composting toilets, and rainwater harvesting are becoming common, even in villages. These efforts make Sikkim Tourism sustainable—not just in brochures but in action. As a visitor, supporting this effort by traveling light and shopping local helps sustain what makes the place special. The real essence of Sikkim Tourism isn't captured in one destination or picture. It's felt when you walk slow, eat slow, and listen more than you speak. It's in the wind chimes at a monastery gate, in the eyes of a smiling yak herder, and in the silent snow that falls on a remote trail. This is not a place to tick off a list. It's a place to pause. TIME BUSINESS NEWS
Time Business News
20-06-2025
- Time Business News
Top 7 Benefits of Booking a Puja Online
In a technology-driven world where everything—from groceries to doctor consultations—is just a tap away, why should spirituality be left behind? For every devotee who's stood in a long temple queue under the scorching sun, unsure about the muhurat, priest, or rituals, booking a puja online feels like divine intervention. It's the difference between a packed train ride and a chariot that takes you straight to the deity's feet. If you've ever felt torn between your hectic schedule and your spiritual duties, here's good news: Bhakti has gone digital. Let's explore the top 7 benefits you receive if you book a puja online, and how platforms like Utsav are quietly but powerfully transforming devotion across India. Picture this: wanting to conduct a pooja for kaal sarp dosh— an extremely critical ceremony that usually needs certain timings, temples such as Trimbakeshwar Jyotirlinga, and skilled priests. Traditionally, it entails travel, planning, and logistical mayhem. But with a mere click, today's pilgrims can: Pick the specific puja they desire Pick a favourable temple anywhere in India Order it from the comfort of their living room, with no fuss It's as if the doors of divinity swing open exactly when you knock, even though you don't have to venture out of your house. One of the most vexing fears of contemporary devotees is 'Am I doing it right?' Fear of omission or even performing a single step in the wrong way can haunt the most devout spirit. When you book puja online, particularly for intricate rituals such as the pooja for kaal sarp dosh, sites like Utsav guarantee: Ritual step-by-step guide On-time reminders of the puja date Viewing the right mantras Visual presence at temple rituals You're not passively watching a livestream — you're engaged, spiritually and mentally. It's as if you have a priest taking you through every step, virtually holding your hand through the divine. Some temples are dreams carved in stone — places like Trimbakeshwar Jyotirlinga, where thousands go for liberation from doshas like Kaal Sarp. But not everyone can travel to these sacred sites due to health, time, or finances. Online puja bookings let you: Access high-energy temples remotely Perform temple-specific pujas without travel Receive Prasa and blessings at home Imagine it as the temple visiting you, covered in faith and sent to your doorstep. Festivals such as Kumbh Mela (2025 in Allahabad), Navratri, or Maha Shivratri bring immense spiritual value. But these are also peak season travel times, and millions push and shove, competing for space, time, and spiritual service. With online reservation, devotees can: Make prayers on the precise date of the festival Conduct Ganga Aarti, Rudrabhishek, or Triveni Puja from a distance Take blessed Prasad and soak in the festival spirit virtually Most important upcoming puja dates in 2025 to keep in mind: Kumbh Mela (Allahabad): Starts January 13, with Mauni Amavasya on February 26 Starts January 13, with Mauni Amavasya on February 26 Maha Shivratri: February 26 February 26 Navratri: Starts September 22 It's like sitting front row at India's grandest divine performances, without fighting the crowd. Spirituality is intensely personal. Some do pujas for health, others for planetary cures. If you book puja online over the net, it's not a factory-fitted offering. Devotees get to select: Nature of puja (e.g., Maha Rudrabhishek, pooja for kaal sarp dosh) Preferred temple (such as Jyotirlingas or Shaktipeeths) Choice of date and time according to their Janam Kundali You customise your faith experience, like you'd customise a wedding attire — intimate and handcrafted. Unlike stereotypical pandits or unclear ceremonies, reliable platforms ensure complete transparency. With Utsav, for instance: You get videos or images of your puja You know the priest's name who's conducting it You get Prasad and sacred material such as Rudraksha, Kumkum, or Sindoor It's not only a service; it's sacred transparency. As if your faith comes with a bill from the heavens, lengthy and to the point. Ultimately, the actual intent of any puja is peace of mind. And if you've ordered it online, gone through all the steps, and received the Prasad, there's a subtle but powerful emotional satisfaction. You don't feel like you've outsourced bhakti; you feel like you've augmented it. No more worrying, 'Did I do enough?' No feeling guilty for missing a temple visit A sense of profound connection to the divine It's like swapping background noise with the soothing hum of temple bells ringing especially for you. Behind it all is Utsav— a platform subtly empowering lakhs to connect with their heritage. With access to famous temples, precise rituals, and sacred Prasad, Utsav is no replacement for devotion — it's the connector that makes it convenient. Whether it's a reservation of a pooja for kaal sarp dosh at Trimbakeshwar or watching the spiritual majesty of Kumbh Mela online, Utsav makes devotion accessible without dilution. These days, getting a sacred ritual done doesn't need a train ticket or a hasty visit to the priest's home. It just requires your will — and maybe a tap on your phone. With sites like Utsav, your road to spiritual satisfaction is just a click away, be it via their official website or their app available on the Google Play Store. Divine connection, minus the complication. So next time a festival comes around or a dosh needs fixing, don't worry. Just recall — the divine has gone digital. All you have to do is appear, even from your own home. Book a puja online. Embrace bhakti. Be blessed. TIME BUSINESS NEWS
