I’ve taken quite a few trips in my life, but none of them changed me the way this one did. I wanted more than just sightseeing. I wanted answers, a break from the noise in my head, and maybe a little healing too. That’s what led me to book a solo trip to Varanasi and Rishikesh—two of India’s most spiritually charged destinations. I had no idea I was about to be cracked open in the most beautiful way.
This wasn’t just travel. It was transformation.
Varanasi – Chaos, Death, and a Deep Sense of Life
Let me start by saying this: Varanasi is not an easy city. It’s loud, chaotic, overwhelming, and deeply emotional. But it’s also real. Raw. Sacred.
I arrived in Varanasi early in the morning and was immediately hit by the sensory overload—honking rickshaws, burning incense, the scent of marigolds, the sound of temple bells. It felt like life was happening in fast-forward.
I checked into a humble guesthouse near Assi Ghat, and the owner welcomed me like family. “You will find yourself here,” he smiled. I didn’t fully understand what he meant. Not yet.
That evening, I attended the famous Ganga Aarti at Dashashwamedh Ghat. Hundreds of people gathered as priests waved giant lamps and chanted in unison. The smoke, the fire, the rhythm—it shook something in me. I stood among strangers, but I felt connected to something much bigger.
The next morning, I took a boat ride along the Ganges at sunrise. That golden light on the river, the sight of people bathing, praying, or simply staring at the horizon—it felt ancient, almost surreal. But what hit me the hardest was the Manikarnika Ghat, where cremations happen 24/7. I sat there for over an hour, silently watching as people said their last goodbyes.
It didn’t feel morbid. It felt peaceful. Like death wasn’t the end—just another step in the journey. That moment shifted something deep inside me. It made me think about how much time we spend fearing endings instead of truly living.
But Varanasi wasn’t all heavy emotions. I found joy in its streets too—in hot chai from a roadside stall, in children playing cricket by the ghats, in old men telling stories that made no sense but sounded wise. I met a local artist who painted on postcards and refused to sell his art—he just gifted them to travelers like me. “Art is seva,” he said. “Service to the soul.”
And mine was definitely being served.
Rishikesh – Where the River Sings and the Soul Breathes
From Varanasi, I took a train and a bumpy taxi ride to Rishikesh. The moment I arrived, I could feel the energy shift. The chaos faded. In its place was calm. The Ganga here looked clearer, happier—like she was resting after the long journey through the plains.
I stayed at a simple ashram on the outskirts of town. No air-conditioning, no Wi-Fi, just clean air and a stunning view of the river. I joined their early morning yoga sessions, followed by silent meditation. It was tough at first—my mind resisted the quiet—but eventually, I started to enjoy the stillness. It felt like meeting myself for the first time.
Walking along Laxman Jhula bridge, with the sound of temple bells and the scent of incense in the air, was like stepping into a dream. I explored local cafes, met fellow travelers from around the world, and had long conversations about life, purpose, and healing. It amazed me how strangers could connect so deeply when all the noise of daily life was stripped away.
One of the most unforgettable moments happened during a sound healing session by the river. As the sun dipped behind the hills and Tibetan singing bowls echoed through the valley, I lay there with my eyes closed, tears streaming down my face. Not out of sadness—but release. For the first time in a long time, I felt light.
And then there was the Ganga Aarti at Parmarth Niketan. Unlike Varanasi’s fiery intensity, this one felt softer—children singing, monks swaying, tourists praying. It felt like hope. Like a warm hug from the universe.
The Lessons I Carried Back
When I boarded my train back to Delhi, I wasn’t the same person. Varanasi taught me to accept impermanence—to embrace the present and let go of fear. Rishikesh taught me to listen to my inner voice, the one I had been ignoring in the rush of everyday life.
Together, these cities broke me down and rebuilt me. They showed me that spirituality isn’t about rituals or religion—it’s about presence, compassion, connection, and truth.
If you ever feel lost, tired, or simply curious about life’s deeper meaning—take a solo trip to Varanasi and Rishikesh. It won’t be comfortable. But it will be honest. And in that honesty, you just might find yourself.