“This is not the river
it’s an explanation of the river
that replaced the river.”
– Dean Young
Dashashwamedh Ghat Road (and it’s not easy for me to say either) is an unrelenting stream of humanity flowing down to the Ganges. Just after the incongruous tower of St. Thomas’s Anglican church, sitting in the middle of this chaos as though it has somehow been miraculously teleported from a small English town, and randomly plonked down in India, all motor traffic is banned. All day long, coaches disgorge pods of pale tourists that join the pedestrian mele like icebergs floating out to sea. Anxious faces try hard not to lose their guide, terrified that they may be uncontrollably swept away to the great unknown.