Ignoring the Perfect View: Sketching Rishikesh and an Unexpected Aarti Experience
Rishikesh is a place that attracts people looking for something—peace, adventure, or spirituality. I wasn’t here for any of those things. I came to draw, and because like a lot of the time I didn’t know where else to go. For the chance to sketch the city, its buildings, its landscapes, and maybe capture something interesting in my drawings. But ironically, the best view I had—right from my hotel balcony—was one I ignored until the very last day of my trip.
The Sketch I Almost Didn’t Make
Every morning, I stepped out onto my balcony and saw the same scene: a perfect composition of mountains rising behind stacked buildings, with ongoing construction adding layers of scaffolding, exposed brick, and stray rebar. It had everything I usually like to capture—the contrast of natural and manmade elements, the sense of a place growing and changing. And yet, for weeks I didn’t bother sketching it.
Maybe it felt too obvious. Too easy. Or maybe I kept thinking I’d get around to it eventually. I spent my days walking around, finding other things to draw—small details, street corners, glimpses of daily life. It wasn’t until my last morning in Rishikesh that I finally opened my sketchbook to record what had been in front of me the whole time.
By then, the light had changed, the atmosphere felt different, and I regretted not having done it sooner. I worked quickly, layering soft washes of watercolor for the hills, adding ink for the architectural details. It wasn’t my best piece, but it was something—a last-minute attempt to capture a place I was already about to leave.
Going to the Aarti
Much like my sketching habits, my attitude toward the Ganga Aarti at Triveni Ghat was indifferent at first. People talked about it as a must-see, but I wasn’t particularly drawn to the idea. Anywhere with vast amounts of people is difficult for me, which makes me question why i visit India so much! Religious rituals don’t hold much meaning for me, i believe in the inner experience of spirituality, not necessarily showing it to others. I thought the aarti would be something people attend just to say they’ve been.
But on one of my last evenings in Rishikesh, I went. Mostly out of curiosity.
When I arrived, the ghat was already packed. People sat on red carpets, waiting. The sky had turned a deep orange, fading into blue, and the river reflected the last light of the day. Then the priests appeared, standing in a row, dressed in red and white, holding massive brass lamps.
I have to admit—the visual impact was undeniable. As they lifted the flaming lamps and moved them in circular motions, the glow of the fire cut through the darkness. The sound of bells and chanting filled the air, and the whole thing felt bigger than I expected—not just in scale but in presence.
I was just an observer but I was drawn in, watching how the fire moved, how the light played against the river, how synchronised everything was. For The first time i felt the connection of the soul, or inner spirit my human self being connected to setting sun, to the earth as whole. And it made me emotional. I often feel too disconnected and this feeling firmly rooted myself to the realness of the earth, yet listed me to the heavens simultaneously. A mix of sound, movement, and atmosphere that was impossible not to be moved by.
What I Took Away from It
Looking back, my time in Rishikesh was shaped as much by what I didn’t do as what I did. I ignored the best view from my hotel until it was almost too late. I resisted going to the Aarti but ended up being moved by it.
If anything, this trip reminded me that sometimes, what’s right in front of you is worth paying attention to— even if you didn’t mean to end up there, i think there is some truth in that we are already where we are meant to be.