By Roli S
The year 2025 felt different in Bharat. Everywhere I travelled, I sensed a renewed curiosity—almost a collective awakening—towards our arts, culture, history, languages, and living traditions. Events like the Mahakumbh and the vibrant resurgence of Ayodhya brought our ancient civilisation into present-day conversations. Yet, for me, this awakening became deeply personal during my frequent visits to Kashi—Varanasi, Benaras—the city that has always been a mirror of Bharat’s civilisational soul.
Every visit to Kashi, I told myself, must be different. Not just another walk along the ghats, not just another sunrise over the Ganga. This time, destiny offered me something special: the chance to be in Varanasi during Kashi Tamil Sangamam, an event that brought together two timeless cultural poles of Bharat—Tamil Nadu and Kashi—into a single living experience. What followed was not merely travel, but a journey inward, reminding me why museums and cultural events are essential companions to any meaningful travel programme. I was informed that Kashi Tamil Sangamam was initiated in 2022 by the Ministry of Education, Government of India, and is much more than a festival. It is a civilisational dialogue. The Sangamam celebrates, reaffirms, and rediscovers the age-old links between Tamil Nadu and Varanasi—links that have existed in the Indian imagination for centuries. For generations, pilgrims, scholars, saints, and seekers travelled between Tamilakam and Kashi. Their journeys were never just geographical; they carried philosophies, languages, rituals, and ideas. Standing amidst the celebrations, listening to Tamil verses echo in the lanes of Kashi, I felt that history was no longer something preserved in books—it was alive, breathing, and walking beside me. The theme “Let us Learn Tamil” resonated deeply. It carried a simple yet powerful message: all Indian languages are our languages, belonging to one Bharatiya Bhasha family. Initiatives like Tamil Karkalam, enabling students from North India to learn Tamil in Tamil Nadu, and the Agasthya Expedition—a symbolic journey from Tenkasi to Kashi—beautifully illustrated how cultural unity does not erase diversity, but enriches it. Witnessing the Agasthya Expedition narratives, I was reminded that Bharat’s knowledge systems have always travelled—through people, stories, music, and lived traditions. Cultural events like Kashi Tamil Sangamam allow us, as travelers, to step into that flow rather than merely observe it from a distance. Travel often focuses on destinations. Cultural events focus on connections. While monuments tell us what existed, festivals and sangamams , such as Kashi – Tamil Sangamam show us how traditions continue to live. As I attended a few exhibitions and performances during the Sangamam, I realised that such events transform travel into participation. They allow us to feel the pulse of the nation. I was understanding ‘Bharat’ not as a static past but as a continuously evolving civilisation. For a traveler seeking meaning, such events become classrooms without walls. They invite dialogue, foster respect for diversity, and remind us, that unity in Bharat has never meant uniformity. This realisation naturally led me to another space where the past converses silently with the present—a museum.
During the same visit, I found myself drawn to Bharat Kala Bhavan, nestled within the serene campus of Banaras Hindu University. Established in 1920, it is one of the oldest museums in India, and walking into it felt like stepping into a carefully curated memory of Bharat. It is said that a country that has few museums is both materially poor and spiritually poor…Museums, like theatres and libraries, are a means to freedom. The Bharat Kala Bhavan does not overwhelm; it invites. Paintings, Hindu and Buddhist sculptures, textiles, costumes, coins, and artefacts gently guide the visitor through India’s civilisational journey. Knowing that Mahatma Gandhi once praised its collection as “extremely good” added a quiet sense of reverence to my visit. The museum’s history is as compelling as its exhibits. Its first honorary chairman was none other than Rabindranath Tagore, whose vision of cultural synthesis aligns beautifully with the museum’s spirit. Padma Vibhushan awardee Rai Krishnadasa’s lifelong dedication transformed Bharat Kala Bhavan into a beacon of culture, reminding me how individual commitment sustains collective heritage.
The museum has eleven galleries—the Archaeological, Banaras, Painting, Textile, Decorative Arts, and the Alice Boner Gallery—Ancient coins narrated political histories; sculptures revealed devotional movements; textiles whispered stories of regions and communities. Even when the museum was under renovation and most of its galleries were out of bounds the one moment that stayed with me was standing before rare images of Lord Krishna, bearing witness to the Krishna cult’s presence in Kashi during the 15th and 16th centuries. These artefacts did what no guidebook could—they connected belief, art, and daily life into one seamless narrative. The museum’s embrace of sustainability, with solar-powered light and sound systems, modern showcases, digital kiosks, and climate-controlled cabinets, reassured me that preserving heritage does not mean resisting progress. Instead, it means using modern tools responsibly to protect ancient wisdom.
Museums are not storehouses of old objects; they are guardians of our collective memory. They safeguard tangible heritage—artworks, artefacts, architecture—and intangible traditions—rituals, music, oral histories. In a rapidly modernising world, museums ensure that development does not erase remembrance. As a traveler, I realised that visiting museums anchors us. They provide context to the streets we walk, the temples we admire, and the festivals we celebrate. Without that context, travel risks becoming superficial. With it, every journey becomes meaningful. Museums function as informal universities. They allow us to encounter history directly, through original objects that carry the energy of their time. Exhibitions, workshops, lectures, and digital outreach transform learning into an engaging, lifelong process. For young travelers especially, museums should ignite curiosity. They should encourage questions rather than rote learning. They should remind them that knowledge is layered, complex, and deeply human.
By presenting multiple cultural narratives side by side, museums foster empathy. They teach us to appreciate diversity without fear and unity without erasure. In spaces like Bharat Kala Bhavan, I saw how regional histories contribute to a shared national story. There was a special exhibition on the occasion of Kashi Tamil Sangamam at the Bharat Kala Bhavan called Ganga-Kaveri Sampravaha showcasing rare exhibits of Tamil Nadu. I wholeheartedly accepted that cultural events like Kashi Tamil Sangamam and institutions like museums together strengthen national pride—not the loud, exclusionary kind, but a quiet confidence rooted in understanding. My experiences in Varanasi during Kashi Tamil Sangamam and at Bharat Kala Bhavan changed the way I view travel. They taught me that to truly know Bharat, one must travel through its ideas, languages, arts, and memories—not just its landscapes. Museums and cultural events are bridges. They connect past and present, region and region, individual and nation. When we include them in our travel journeys, we do not merely visit places—we reconnect with our beloved motherland. And in that reconnection, we return richer, wiser, and more deeply rooted in the timeless spirit of Bharat.
(Roli S is an Educator and Author based in Thane.)
