Varanasi // Josh Kiszka

Varanasi

The heavy air was warm and stifling. The humidity manifesting in rivulets of sweat that collected in the valley between your breasts.

Oh, but the colours were extending beyond the sky. Reflected in the river below. Long boats glided silently across the expanse, creating ripples in their wake as you ran your open palm down the centre of your chest.

Grateful to just be there. To sit by the water. To listen to the quiet chime of voices. To feel your body absorb the rich tapestry of history and culture. And to know that being there hadn't been by chance. You had worked for this.

It was a destiny you had orchestrated for as long as you could remember. To cast off your shackles and take that leap of faith. It had brought you here, to Varanasi. To the spiritual heart of India. Where the beating centre of the earth seemed to resonate through dusty streets and into the hearts of mankind.

As you moved through the city on bare feet, you could feel the vibrations. Snaking through narrow passages, up winding steps and finally through curated gardens of soft grass and vibrant flowers. The scent of which always drew you to linger a little longer, even at dusk.

Your pale skin had long since darkened. Your hair a shade or two lighter. The glow within painted in the way you almost danced where once you had simply walked. Balancing on walls instead of pavements. Awakening early just to see the sun come up. Feeling as if you'd never been alive until you stepped foot onto the cool marble floor of the Varanasi Sacred Chakra retreat.

Here you'd been introduced to a freedom seldom found in the world you'd left behind. Here you were able to engage or disengage as you pleased. Spending hours locked in transcendental moments of clarity, sometimes with others and sometimes in solitude. Always moving between the two states, wanting to be alone and wanting to be surrounded by like minded souls.

As you made the approach towards the old building, you noticed a black car pulling up the dirt track. Nestled at the peak of a steep and challenging hill, the retreat dwelled within the relic of what once was a temple. If you truly wanted to reach it, the only time you could rely upon a car to bring you to it was during your first arrival and your final departure.

You curiously watched as the car door opened. Conscious that this was an arrival, two white suitcases had been placed at the foot of the steps in anticipation. You were flushed pink and your hair dry from errant dust. Taking a moment to gather your composure when he caught sight of you for the first time.

Breathless from the exertion, you knew your chest was rising and falling more violently than usual. He was wearing western clothes, a muted palette of beiges and whites. The only hint that he had come to the right place was the book he clutched in his hand. You would have known that cover anywhere. The word "tantra" emblazoned in high colour, he almost dropped it as he noticed you staring at it.

He watched you, curiously, as you tried to catch your breath. A smile was exchanged. A brief moment where you took note of his tremendous mouth, two rows of pearl white teeth and the tiniest of gaps between the front two. A dimple in his cheek appearing as his eyes widened. And you found yourself responding almost as joyfully. Noticing the silver ear cuffs in the dying light, hidden behind an untamed mass of curls, shaved perfectly at the sides as if to showcase his accessories.

You were immediately intrigued as he greeted the retreat staff. Favouring to hold their hands within his just a little longer than was necessary. Maintaining their eye contact as he spoke, a soft drawl in his voice that reminded you of home.

He looked back once as he ascended. Leaving with you a feeling that all your intentions were about to unravel.

~