The cycle of life & death

I thank the manager of The Spot hotel who tries to hide a smile when I tell him I’ve enjoyed my stay. It sure was minging but as usual in my short time here I’ve grown fond of the place and the staff. After hearing ‘Mr Flemming’ for the final time (Ive wretched every time I hear him forcing phlegm from his chest and spitting for the past three mornings) I walk down Urine Alley (the stench is overwhelming from an unclean open urinal block where men freely jiggle their exposed ‘man bits’)  jump into the airport taxi. The journey is momentarily paused whilst the driver places his hands together above the steering wheel and prays before our journey commences. Knowing these roads now this makes me smile, if he’s praying what chance have i got?!

We weave our way up ‘Cow Pat’ street (main bazaar) and it’s alive and bustling with human ants and traffic. I peacefully observe the men drinking chai, holding hands, queuing for their thali or dosa breakfast in the morning sun. Children with no headgear chance their fate on the motorbike school run, rickshaws and carts blocking the traffic because they are carrying 10 times their capacity and can’t manage the appropriate bending radius and the desperate beings are scratching around black and filthy from head to foot completely unnoticed in the dirt - they have lost mans final dignity of hope which keeps the internal fire alive, it’s an upsetting sight. I’m always a little sad and sentimental when I leave a place but I’ll be back here in a few days.

Varanasi is a sacred city on the banks of the river Ganges, known as the spiritual capital of India located in the northern state of Uttar Pradesh. 

Hindu pilgrims flock to the Ganges to bathe in its holy waters and perform funeral rites. It is the final privilege, of the highest honour to have your funeral held here. Upon death bodies are transported to the rivers edge dipped five times in the Ganges and burned in front of the families. It takes three hours to burn the oil soaked body surrounded by substantial tree bark which is weighed and apportioned on a giant chain balancing scale. There are 200 cremations a day here. The ashes are then immersed into the Ganges. Sadu’s, young children and holy masters are not cremated but wrapped, weighted and dropped into the Ganges deeper waters. These are deemed to be enlightened beings in their final lifetime, the cycle of reincarnation complete. No sadness is shown during the ritual to allow the soul to leave the body, 30 days official mourning follows. I love their approach to life and death and admire fully their honour and respect of family.

It’s peaceful as we arrive at the ghat at 5.30am. There are people already bathing in the waters, some for which this is a daily ritual. We board a boat to watch the sunrise over the burning ghat. Looking back to the bank from the boat is an explosion of colour, vibrance, splendour, peacefulness ....and uncompromising commitment. Every walk of Indian life can be found along the waters edge, it’s a unison of respect of the fellow human and his dedication to the Hindu faith. 

Monks performing their early morning ritual

Morning bathers in the Ganges

The evening ceremony performed to the 'Gods' 

An offering which is floated on the ganges for 'good karma'

The Burning Ghat. Each fire is a body, the cremations continue 24/7. Its a surreal but peaceful place.

There are many gods in Hindu tradition the main deities being: Devi (goddess) Shiva, Vishnu and there are many related deities and minor gods. Different people worship different gods but they are all essentially accepted as ‘one’.

The fanaticism and obsessive behaviour is similar to what I experienced back in Indonesia last year, but Varanasi is much less dignified entwined a with a twist of savagery and prehistoric and on a whole new level. Visiting temples proved a challenge but also actions conducted seemed nonsensical. Temples dedicated to Shiva were respectful and quiet, yet minor gods dedicated to well being or resolving problems (Lets face it we’ve all prayed to god when we’re in trouble) were utterly crazy with chanting, wailing, pushing and shoving. It was too much for me. I felt unwelcome as the only tourist and was physically pushed around and out of the queue several times, yet the women’s inquisitiveness was evident as they kept touching me (when I glared at them they stared at, but straight through me) and I had to abort mission and left feeling mauled.  

As we ride back, meandering the bleak poverty strewn streets in the tuk tuk I try to make sense of it all. I’m desperately trying to ascertain where the evident madness began and my ignorance ends. I had looked forward to seeing Varanasi, I thought I would feel the strength of the people and their love of religion. Strangely however I feel no connection to the spiritual 'vibe' here, I’m unconvinced. I feel I’m intruding on the special and holy lifetimes dedication of these people, almost unworthy and phoney as an agnostic. 

In one of the worlds holiest cities I fail to be persuaded into surrendering my body and soul to the unseen. It all feels insanely intense.

Whilst the country has many similarities to south east Asia, India is by far the most un-evolved country I’ve seen. It’s engulfed in unmanageable poverty and the effect is primitive and desperate. The hope here lies predominantly in religion, with which without I realise this country would run out of control. On the positive side there is ingenuity and a real community spirit to the place along with a genuine love of each other along with unwavering devotion to family.

I’m staying outside of Varanasi in a small town with no tourists. I’m not welcome here and the locals are bordering hostile. They stop and menacingly stare everywhere you go and are rude when you make purchases (go figure when your contributing toward their income - that’s not meant arrogantly), that’s their pride of course but I’m not ready to quit just yet and experience tells me they’ll get used to my presence in a day or so. I kind of have a little battle with them to see if I can get them to crack a smile, my commitment however seldom brings results these days.

I always try to reverse the circumstances and imagine what it must be like to have no options other than to exist. There’s no option to leave, improve your circumstances, see the world, be financially secure...these people are living literally hand to mouth. Then you have ‘wealthy’ (comparatively) folk march their way arrogantly through your pitiful existence and when I view it like this I conclude I would also feel aggrieved by the tourists presence.   

As the days pass by my presence does become more accepted and I feel myself settling into India the more time I’m here and I enjoy chatting with staff, meandering the streets, mingling in amongst the traders, beggars, children’s smiles and greetings, filth and crazy traffic. It’s bliss, I love the freedom of exploration. It demonstrates once again to me the importance of making sure these places are slowly explored allowing sufficient time. flyby visits only allow the initial intimidating vibe to be held, which is wrong and misleading. You can ‘visit a country’ and ‘tick it off the list’ or you can explore and immerse yourself in a country....the two are NOT the same. 

Varanasi for me Is a stark reminder that life is about balance, we enter and leave this world with no financial or material  gain, and leave behind merely personality traits along with a collection of memories and humble achievements. What would you like your legacy to be? My time in the holy city has taught me that emotional poverty lies in material greed and the real riches of life are found in poverty.