Ramnagar Fort

Listen first. Across the water, the bells and chants of Varanasi's ghats grow faint. Here, on the eastern bank of the Ganges, the air is quieter. Your feet meet worn sandstone, warm in the sun and dusted with fine grit. The walls in front of you are a soft, creamy colour, almost the shade of old paper. This is Ramnagar Fort, and it looks back at the holy city from the other side of the river.

Most visitors spend their time on the western bank, where the city's famous steps run down to the water. Very few think about the opposite shore. Yet this fort has watched Varanasi for more than two centuries. From its riverside walls, the long curve of the ghats spreads out like a painted scroll. It is one of the few places where you can see the whole sacred city at once.

The fort was built around the middle of the eighteenth century by Raja Balwant Singh. He was a local ruler of Benares, the older name for Varanasi. His family became known as the Kashi Naresh, which means the King of Kashi. Kashi is the ancient name of the city, often translated as the City of Light. The fort became the seat of this royal line, and the family still lives here today.

Look closely at the stone. It is sandstone, and it is generally said to come from the Chunar region, a little upstream along the Ganges. Chunar stone has a long history in this part of India. Stonecutters have worked it for many centuries. It is soft enough to carve finely, yet strong enough to stand against the monsoon floods. Notice how the river side of the fort rises directly from the bank, built to meet the water.

The style is a blend. You will see arches, carved balconies, and small domed pavilions. Many of these forms come from Mughal architecture, the court style of the Muslim emperors who ruled much of northern India. Here, they mix with Hindu details and local craftsmanship. The result is not a grim military fortress. It feels more like a palace with walls — a home designed for ceremony, shade, and views over the river.

Here is a surprise. Hindu tradition treats the two banks of the river very differently. The western bank is sacred, and many believe that dying there brings release from rebirth. The eastern bank, where you stand now, was traditionally seen as less fortunate. One popular saying claims that dying on this side means rebirth as a donkey. So a royal fort on this shore was a bold choice — and it carries a story of its own.

That story belongs to Veda Vyasa, the legendary sage credited with composing the Mahabharata, India's great epic. Legend has it that Vyasa once stayed on this bank. According to one popular tale, he was refused alms in Varanasi and, in his anger, began to create a rival holy city here. Inside the fort complex, there is a temple dedicated to him. Locals still connect this ground with the sage's visit, so watch for worshippers making quiet offerings.

Now step inside the museum, known as the Saraswati Bhawan. Saraswati is the Hindu goddess of learning and the arts. The collection is personal rather than polished. You are looking at the belongings of a royal household. There are vintage motor cars, once driven by the family. There are silver and ivory palanquins, the covered seats that servants carried on their shoulders. There are elephant howdahs, the decorated seats placed on an elephant's back for processions.

The armoury room holds swords, daggers, shields, and old guns. Some blades are curved, some are straight, and some have handles shaped like animal heads. Elsewhere you will find costumes, embroidered textiles, and old photographs of the royal family. Do not expect museum lighting or long labels. Some rooms are dusty, and some glass cases are clouded with age. Many visitors find that this is part of the charm. It feels like walking into an attic full of memories.

One object surprises most people. The museum holds an astronomical clock. It shows not only the time, but also information about the sun, the moon, and the positions of the stars. A clock like this was a sign of learning and prestige. Take a moment to study its faces and dials. It is easy to walk past, but it shows how this court valued science alongside ceremony and religion.

The fort is not only a museum. It sits at the heart of a living tradition: the Ramnagar Ramlila. The Ramlila is a dramatic retelling of the Ramayana, the epic story of the god Rama. In Ramnagar, the performance runs for around a month each autumn, around the festival of Dussehra. The royal family has supported it for generations. Its stages are not inside one theatre. Instead, the whole town becomes the stage, with different scenes in different places.

During the Ramlila, thousands of people gather each evening. Actors perform with little or no electric light or amplification, and the crowd follows them from place to place. Many spectators carry copies of the text and chant along. The Maharaja traditionally attends, arriving on an elephant or in a royal procession. UNESCO recognises the Ramlila tradition of northern India as part of humanity's intangible cultural heritage. If you visit in autumn, ask locals where the evening scene will be.

As you leave, walk to the edge of the river walls one last time. Look across at the ghats. Notice the boats, the drifting smoke, the small figures moving on the steps. Then look down at the sandstone under your hands, smoothed by years of weather and visitors. Behind you, the town of Ramnagar carries on with its tea stalls, bicycles, and temple bells. The fort sits quietly between them, watching both banks of the river at once.