There is a special spirit among people who call themselves Banarsis, whether they are rickshaw-pullers, merchants in the market, or the old aristocracy. It is an art of living, both passionate and carefree. They call it masti. It is the exhilaration and drunkenness of Holi, the extravagance and culture of Burhwa Mangal, and the glitter of Diwali. It is enjoyment of life without ostentation. Most of its pleasures are simple: a morning bath in the Ganga, clean and plain clothing, simple dal and rice, a boat ride to the far sandy bank of the river for a morning walk. A small parcel of delicate milk-sweets, layered with pistachio and covered with thin silver paper; a mouthful of pan, betel nuts and other condiments, wrapped in the tenderest and most succulent green pan leaves - these are the finest pleasures of the day. In the evening, there will be the clang of temple bells, and perhaps, later, some music. It is an ambience of urbanity, good living, and culture, all of which comes to be synonymous with the word "Banarsi"
