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The peerless Dashashvamedha Ghat of Kashi. It is barely daybreak. The first rays of dawn have descended upon the cool bosom of the waters. The lamps that were lit along the ghats when twilight set the previous day, mingle with the natural light. The deep red-ochre stone, of which the ghats of Kashi and its innumerable temples are built, glow eerily in this concoction.
Ganga and the skies above Her are of the same twin colour. It is a jewel-like Prussian blue shade, executed with varying strokes of the brush to differentiate water and ether. While Dashashvamedha is in the foreground, dotted with a few figures, the rest of the ghats are distorted to the view by the thick mist of the great river, yet to dispense with daybreak.
The time is monsoon. Most of the steps of the Ghat, and the temples situated on them, are submerged in water. Boats docked against them, their glimmering, elongated forms resembling pearls of a peculiar shape.
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