How It All Started
It began casually.
When Ramya decided to visit Aswaraopeta for Dussehra, I felt the pull to go somewhere — to wander with my camera again. During a recent trip to Hyderabad, Abhilash mentioned he was also craving a break. We first thought of Kedarnath, but a 45–50-hour journey each way was too long. Rajasthan came up next for a biking trip, but somehow the name “Kashi” surfaced. Abhilash said, “Let’s go to Kashi.”
A few clicks later, the tickets were booked. I took two days off before Dussehra. What began as an idea soon became an instinctive journey — one that would fill my memory card, and my mind, in equal measure.
Why Kashi
There was no specific reason — or maybe Kashi chose us.
Every time I think of it, I feel calm. It reminds me of my father, of walking to Vishwanath temple holding Seetamma’s hand, and of the stories Chaganti Koteswara Rao garu narrated. For me, Kashi is both a memory and a mystery — the perfect blend for a photographer seeking stories.
The Changing City
The Kashi I knew years ago has changed dramatically.
The temple complex has undergone a massive transformation. The narrow lanes once suffocating around it are now open and bright. The new Kashi Vishwanath corridor feels vast, structured, and almost cinematic — clean lines, defined entries, curated spaces.
From Gate 4, a lane leads to Manikarnika Ghat. Gate 1 opens to a stunning view of the Ganga — a frame that glows in the golden light of dawn. Though the ghats were flooded during our visit, even standing at the edge felt like looking into eternity.
This is where you feel how development and devotion can coexist — and through the lens, it’s fascinating. The symmetry of the new temple, the chaos of the crowds, the calm of a priest in prayer — every frame tells the story of transition.
The City That Hasn’t Changed
But step beyond the corridor, and the old Kashi returns.
The lanes of Sonarpura remain untouched — narrow, cluttered, and chaotic. Life spills from every corner — people eating, sleeping, washing, praying, and talking all at once. It’s raw, imperfect, yet visually magnetic.
As a photographer, you don’t look away. You frame it, not to judge, but to preserve — because this too is Kashi, the part that refuses to change.
Through My Lens
Kashi is every photographer’s dream and challenge.
The ghats give you endless frames — the early light hitting the water, priests performing rituals, women in bright saris offering prayers, the orange glow of diyas merging with the river’s reflection.
Each moment lasts a second, yet feels eternal.
At Manikarnika and Harishchandra Ghats, time stands still.
The smoke, the sacred fire, the silence of acceptance — these are moments that test both your eye and your heart. You photograph with humility, because here, life and death share the same frame.
Boat rides between ghats are pure gold for photography. From the river, you see Kashi differently — layers of life stacked against time. With a good zoom lens, every ghat becomes a story: a boy jumping into the water, a sadhu meditating, an old man lighting a diya. Stitch them into panoramas, and Kashi becomes one living photograph.
Inside the temples, cameras rest. Photography is prohibited, but observation isn’t — and sometimes, the frames you don’t shoot stay sharper in your memory than those you do.
The Human Canvas
Every person in Kashi feels like part of an ancient portrait —
The flower sellers near Vishalakshi Temple, the chai vendor at Lakshmi Chai Wale, the priest tying a thread at Kalabhairava, or a woman pouring Ganga water back into the river — each a story of faith and endurance.
People rarely say no when you ask for a photograph. Most smile, some pose, a few simply nod and continue their prayer. That’s the beauty of Kashi — its people are as much part of the landscape as the river itself.
The Beauty Beyond the Lens
Beyond photography, Kashi is chaos wrapped in charm.
The city traffic is maddening — no rules, no signals, just instinct and noise. Public transport barely exists. You learn to walk, to bargain, to adapt. But every step rewards you with a moment worth framing.
When you finally reach the ghats, all that frustration dissolves. There are 84 ghats, each with a different rhythm. We spent most of our time at Tulsi Ghat, where mornings are quiet, the water is clean, and the locals swim and pray.
At Assi Ghat, the evenings bloom with Ganga Aarti — a river of light meeting the river of life.
The Taste of Kashi
The camera rests when the plate arrives.
Kashi feeds the soul and the stomach alike — chaat, samosa, kachori, puri bhaji.
Ram Bhandar, Sri Satyanarayana, and Deena Chat Bhandar are legends.
Lakshmi Chai Wale makes the most comforting malai toast you’ll ever taste.
The streets may be messy, but the flavors are pure — just like the city.
The Temples
There are five temples you can’t miss —
Kashi Vishwanath, Kalabhairava, Vishalakshi, Annapoorna, and Sankata Hanuman.
Each one a different mood, a different frame.
The 3 AM abhishekam at Vishwanath is surreal — the kind of light and emotion no camera can truly capture.
Crowds, touts, and chaos aside, once you’re in front of the Shiva Linga, everything else fades.
Kashi in Retrospect
After six days, thousands of steps, and hundreds of frames, Kashi still felt endless.
It’s a place that refuses to be summarized — ancient yet evolving, spiritual yet unfiltered.
For a photographer, it’s humbling.
You don’t just shoot Kashi — you surrender to it.
Photographer’s Notes
- Plan your frames a day before visiting key ghats.
- Carry smaller lenses to avoid attention at sensitive spots.
- Boat rides are best during sunrise and post-sunset blue hour.
- Always ask before photographing people.
- Temples strictly prohibit cameras — respect that boundary.
- Walk slowly — some of the best frames appear when you aren’t looking.
Closing Thought
“Kashi isn’t a city you visit.
It’s a city that visits you — through your lens, through your silence, through your heart.”For me, Kashi was not just a destination — it was a dialogue between light and life, between faith and the frame.
Through my camera, I tried to capture what words can only touch — the rhythm of devotion, the quietness of acceptance, and the raw beauty of this timeless city.📸 Explore the complete Kashi 2025 photo series here:
The Unwritten Path 
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