Banganga at Night

I went to Banganga on Saturday night with Mansi. The water levels had risen significantly due to the rains. It was quiet, peaceful, and filthy. The openness of the the tank, the crumbling buildings and temples around bathed in yellow light, all make you feel the past and present simultaneously. I remember a few years ago, while I was here in the day with a few friends, I saw a guru teaching a young student to chant verses from religious texts. Each visit also seems to have an eerie quality of being an accumulation of past trips along with their thoughts and memories.

This night, there were families of ducks moon-bathing towards the south side of the tank. I sat near a couple of them (they were quite used to human company), while they were trying to sleep. But another group of rambunctious ducks came by and woke them up. The one I photographed was desperately trying to get some good sleep. Then a frog came up the steps from the water (each step was more than four times his height), and began his hoarse chanting. A man took of his clothes, jumped into the pool, swam for a few minutes, and was out again. I doubt he was cleaner than when he entered.

I took some photographs, and reminded myself that I need a tripod pronto.