Four men with a bamboo stretcher on their shoulders lightly trot through the old city of Varanasi. Through its narrow canyon-like alleyways who's rock faces are made up of buildings that may be thousands of years old, dotted with small shrines that passerbys remove their shoes and pray to before continuing on their way to work. The men are carrying a body on their shoulders, wrapped in white cloth, bound for the burning ghat. I watch the activities from an old balcony atop ruins, the process is described to me by someone who insists he doesn't want money. The men bring the stretcher down to the Ganga river and submerge the corpse, to wash it of its sins. Then it is placed on a meticulously stacked pile of wood, where the family covers the body in sandalwood powder. A holy man circles the body three times saying a Mantra and then sets the body on fire. This is Varanasi.
As I rode into town on a cycle rickshaw from the train station, the air was filled with the smell and smoke of burning garbage, street vendors stoking coal fires, and the dust churned up from morning cleaning. None of it, however, could prepare me for the smoke exuding from the cremation ghats. Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched the bodies burn, something that was masked by the sweat pouring from my forehead. Many people in India save their money to come to Varanasi before they die, because they believe to die here is to immediately receive enlightenment. So when an old man or woman feel that the end is near, they gather their belongings, and come here, to enter death along the banks of the Ganga River. Many times, if not an overwhelming majority of the time, they don't die when they expect to, and run out of money. Thus, along the ghats and in small crevices of the old city lye the frail and hopeless elderly of India, waiting to pass on.
I came here via 13 hour bus ride from Dharamsala to Delhi, followed by a 16 hour train ride from Delhi to Varanasi. Something that weakened me quite a bit, due to the lack of sleep I got over two nights. In the lobby of the Yogi Lodge, where I'm staying, I met a Buddhist Nun and an Anigerika who were traveling together. I joined them for lunch, however, by the time my club soda and banana came, it became apparent that I could no longer deny the fact that I was very sick. The two of them took very good care of me, dropping me back at the hotel and going to the pharmacy and market to get the necessary medicine and food I needed to regain my strength. Under their care I was only in bed for one full day. Back on my feet yesterday, and 100% by today.
Finally able to walk about freely today, I went down to the bathing ghats of the Ganga river and hired a boatman for a ride. The river is one of the holiest symbols of the Hindu religion, people throw flowers into it and submerge themselves to wash away bad karma. A perplexing contradiction that exists in Indian society, or at least Hindu culture is that people shower, wash their clothes, and throw garbage in this holy place. A majority of the old city lies along the banks of the river with great stone steps breaking its surface leading to the river bed. Raising up from the river are ancient buildings and temples that make one feel as if they had found Atlantis, some of them so old and heavy that they are literally sinking into the river, some of them are already partly submerged. This city is as old as time, and so is its culture, businessmen in button down shirts living beside renunciate holy men in robes, as well as, goats, water buffalo, and cows, who roam the streets and alleyways freely.
Everyday life carries on here amidst the shadow of death that lurks over the city. Something that makes me exceedingly uncomfortable as time here wears on. I believe its due to the different mindset we have in the west, our whole lives are spent denying the fact that we will one day die, we watch television, buy cars, and go to the mall. My experience here has thrown to the forefront two of the most horrifying realities. Firstly, the fragility of life, and secondly, the certainty of death. I am eager to leave this place. I depart for Sarnath tomorrow.
