Who Wants to Marry A Billionaire?(19)
Nina stared at Daniel and answered without any humor, “Yes, of course, Mister DeVere.”
Chapter Thirteen
Traveling by Lear jet was, Nina acknowledged, a ridiculously comfortable way to fly. She and Daniel had come to a truce as having witnesses made it uncomfortable to fight. Daniel insisted that Boris and Kennedy accompany them, and Nina was sure it was some kind of safety net beyond just having a bodyguard and a stylist. Boris magically produced passports and visas for everyone in 48 hours, and then they took off. In flight, Daniel kept the champagne going and everyone tried to enjoy the time as they stuffed themselves with gourmet food.
A couple of bottles into the champagne, Daniel waved his glass in the air at Nina. “You’re enjoying this, right? The canapés and the lamb chops and the smoked herring salad? Admit it Nina, this is fun, right?” He hiccupped. “You want some chocolate mousse?”
“It is fun, but it’s not how most people live. You have to be aware of that.”
“You don’t think I care about people?” Daniel splashed some more champagne in his glass.
“I didn’t say that you don’t care, I just think you’ve been living inside the palace walls too long. You need a taste of reality along with the beluga caviar.”
“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you. We’ll take in a few sights all together, then I get to plan one day and you have to do whatever I want to do the way I want to do it. Then the next day, I’ll do whatever you want me to do. How’s that?”
Nina smiled to herself, she knew exactly what she wanted Daniel to do. “Okay, it’s a deal.”
They agreed to start in Varanasi, the oldest city in India, and one of the oldest in the entire world. It was a messy, colorful and sacred city filled with amazing and exotic sights and sounds. At first, Boris was losing his mind, trying to shelter the other three as they threaded their way through the narrow lanes of the old city on their way to the ghats, the steps leading down to the Ganges River. But then he relaxed when he realized that despite the numbers of people opening their stalls in the market, or heading to the ghats, most everyone seemed pleasant and peaceful.
Somehow, they had managed to drag Daniel from his bed for the 5:30am Varanasi tradition. At the bottom of the ghats, small wooden boats piloted by an oarsman awaited to take pilgrims and tourists out onto the ancient and holy river to watch the sunrise light up the city. There was something about this ancient tradition that made the group speak in hushed voices, and Nina and Kennedy had purchased little floating votives of candles and fresh flowers that everyone who went out on the boats released on the river. They climbed aboard, and the oarsman pulled them into the center of the river. It was still dark, and little floating candles lit up the water everywhere.
Nina handed one of the votives to Daniel and gestured to him to set it on the water. He looked at her, confused. “Why am I doing this?”
“You’re paying your respect to the mighty Ganges and to Shiva, the god of transformation who founded Varanasi thousands of years ago. She smiled. “Even if you don’t exactly believe it, it’s still a way of showing respect to the culture here.”
Daniel leaned over the edge of the boat, and set his little floating votive on the water, and sat staring as it drifted away to join the dozens of others ostensibly making their way to Bay of Bengal. After a few minutes, he turned back to Nina, “It’s beautiful. So simple, but beautiful.” And Nina heard even Boris whisper, krassivy, ‘beautiful’ in Russian.
As the sun started to rise, the reds and pinks and yellows of the ancient stucco and brick buildings along the shore began to light up. Their boatman lazily turned the boat and started to float with the current in the opposite direction. They could see people coming down the steps of the ghats for ritual bathing, and in the distance there was the sound of chanting and cymbals. On a rooftop, a small group of yogis were doing sun salutations. Then Nina realized they were heading toward the burning ghats, the place where people had been cremated for thousands of years. “What’s going on there?” Daniel pointed.
Nina remembered a lesson from her world religions class back at college. “Dying in Varanasi is the biggest possible blessing for a Hindu—kind of a one way ticket to eternal liberation. Those are the burning ghats. The fires have been burning continuously for thousands of years, and people have their loved ones cremated there.”
The group grew silent as the boat approached; a yellow shrouded body was being carried down the steps. It was draped with garlands of marigolds, and placed on a platform made of stacked firewood. There were prayers and then a torch was used to light the pyre from another fire already burning. The boatman turned once again and they headed back to the little dock where they started.
As they got out, Kennedy held on to Nina’s arm, “Wow, that was like the most amazing hour ever. Kind of puts life in perspective, doesn’t it?” Nina nodded in agreement. “Reading about it is nothing like actually seeing the cycles of life in such an ancient place.” But Daniel said nothing.
After some breakfast at their hotel, they decided to go visit the old market. It was lively and festive, a refreshing change to the somber beauty of their morning. There were flowers and spices and beautiful copper work; suddenly a marching band came through for unknown reasons, and a holy man in an orange dhoti carrying Shiva’s trident blessed them. They would get lost, and then find themselves again. Then Nina heard Kennedy, oo and ah, and she turned to see the stylist disappearing into a stall of beautiful Benares silk. Daniel grabbed Nina by the hand, and smiled, “Come’on, it’s silk!”