Sarnath

Where the Buddha gave his first sermon . . . . . 

Last week I returned from Sarnath hassled – a frame of mind I do not associate with the place. Roads have been dug up and blocked. Drains are being constructed and vendors have been shifted. Select monuments including the Mulagandha Kuti Vihara are under restoration. It is a Sarnath taken over by dust, noise and chaos. Increased tourist numbers (spill over of the record spike in number of people visiting Banaras) further exacerbate the situation.

Image Credit: Pawandeep Kaur

I am unclear whether this is being done under the Smart City project or for the upcoming G20 meetings in town or for another reason. I sadly wonder though how long it would be before I resumed my trips to Sarnath!

Notwithstanding the current scenario the peace and calm associated with Sarnath have been eroding over the years. Not much unlike the names previously used for the place, names that seem to have disappeared: Rishipatana, Mrigadava and Mrigadaya. Today, adjacent to what can be considered the entry point for Sarnath lies a trash dumping yard. A friend, in response to my irritation at the selection of the location, had cheekily quipped: “Don’t we need to suffer on our way to salvation?” And, on the way to Sarnath stands multi-storeyed residential building. The irony its name bears strikes me each time I cycle past. Buddha Heights.

Sarnath has not always been thus. And, over the years it has been special for many people – irrespective of the lens they saw the place with. Let us look at what a few of them have said.  

Pankaj Mishra in An End to Suffering (2013) wrote, “Five miles away (from Banaras), on a flat land dotted with mango groves and rice fields, lies Sarnath, where the Buddha spent a few months after this enlightenment in Bodh Gaya. It is the most picturesque of Buddhist sites in India, it’s wide open spaces always bracing after the chaos – the heat, noise, dirt – of Banaras”.

Kathleen Raine has in her poem In Memory of Sarnath (1991) eloquently expressed her love for the place. A line from the poem has stayed with me since I first read it: “Blissful as life and calm as death”.

G V Desani who came to Sarnath in the 1950’s in pursuit of religion and spirituality, wrote of Sarnath in his classic essay The Banaras that Was, “It all started with the birds. As the summer heat swelled upon us as a curse, a bad kind of madness came over them. The noise they made – hundreds of aliens, immigrant crows among them – insufferable. Everyone slept in the open and the noise made by the jackals at night – prowling and toting around paltry shikar – made (uninterrupted) sleep impossible. White ants arrived soon after. These could – did – lick off the ground heavy and venerable books in a matter of hours. There were scorpions and cobras, too, and the magpies”.

John Keay in India Discovered: The recovery of a lost civilization talks of how during 1834 lieutenant Alexander Cunningham, only 20 years old, had just arrived in India, began to take interest in the well known stupa at Sarnath. Keay adds that 40 years prior to that an Indian contractor had used the site as a hardcore quarry for a new market place in Banaras.

If we jump to history books we come across a range of visitors including the Chinese traveller Hiuen Tsang who left detailed accounts of Ashoka’s Lion Pillar and the Mughal Emperor Humayun who is supposed to have sought refuge here during this escape from the battle of Chausa. Hyecho, a Korean visitor during the 8th century, writes in his journal of a temple - The temple’s name is Dharmachakra... At this temple, there is a gilt-bronze statue and 500… statues. He also writes of a pillar - On the top [of the pillar is a sculpture of] a lion. The pillar is so big that five men could join their arms around it”. 

Image Credit: Pawandeep Kaur

Coming back to recent times and my reasons for missing Sarnath. Together with the children of the school I work with I often cycle to Sarnath. We walk around the ASI campus, chat on history and discuss the signage. We also observe people from different parts of the world pray in different ways and discuss the need to respect and give space to those different from us. During the last trip we got an opportunity to interact with people undertaking restoration efforts at the site! I also go alone to soak in the silence – the place continues to have a special feel and vibes despite the changes. Sitting on the lawns abutting the Dhamek Stupa, together with late morning sun of the north-Indian winter, is a particularly satisfying experience. Recent months I have begun to regularly visit the Central Institute of Higher Tibetan Studies (CIHTS) to borrow books. Both the CIHTS and the Sarnath Museum are reasons, sufficient in themselves, to visit Sarnath as is the Sarangnath Temple – a shrine with two Shivlings next to each other!

Whatever the reason I visit Sarnath for I try to make it a point to savour tea and lip-smacking buns at the tea-stall near the Museum. Regular buns heated over charcoal and topped with rabdi and malai. This combination together with the skill of the stall-personnel results in magic. The tea here too is of the kind which has one asking for second and third rounds. Another friend, on his first trip to Sarnath, fell in love with the tea-stall. He stood up and paid respects with folded hands in obeisance to the magical buns.

Sarnath is special for multiple reasons and I look forward to resuming my trips sooner than later.