magic on the ganges

Quick note: by clicking on the title, I think you can link to my pics on facebook (I just know I'll get better at this!)

As suspected, it’s been two short days and I’m ba-ack. I’m in Varanasi, its 9 am and we’ve just come back from sunrise at the Ganges.

The Ganges River in Varanasi is a spiritual pilgrimage site for Hindus. From what I’ve been told by our guides, it is believed that if you die here, or are cremated here, your soul will go straight to heaven. While it is Hindu practice to cremate the dead everywhere, at the river in Varanasi, cremations happen at two pyres along the river 24 hours a day, whereas elsewhere cremations cease at sunset. All along the river are ghats, stone steps leading down to the river where people bathe, collect holy water and pray.

Prior to arriving here, I had heard mixed descriptions about what to expect, from the magical to the horrifying. So I felt some trepidation as our cyclo wound its way through the maze of traffic on our way to the river. The city itself seemed especially vibrant, with shops and people everywhere. When our guide mentioned how much more honking there was here than elsewhere, I was truly surprised because I thought the streets had a more calming energy than anywhere else we’ve been. (Upon some reflection, I think it might be all the bells from the bicycles that have given me that impression!)

When we got to the river, we took a boat out to watch the sunset. There were surprisingly few boats on the water, filled with tourists and Indians alike. Despite the polluted water (that at least looked better than I suspected), the air had a softly sweet smell. As twilight turned to night, we listened to traditional Indian music being played by two musicians, one on a drum the other a sridhar. Although my camera sucks, I urge you to take a look at the pictures because I can’t quite describe to you what the architecture is like, I can only say that it compelled me to sit in silence to take it all in.

In what might be tourist practice only, we were given small trays of flowers with candles in the middle to light and send out on the river with our wishes. I only made one on behalf of all of us: for love, happiness and health. Is there really anything else to wish for?

This was followed by a puja along one of the ghats where several priests had a ceremony, gesturing and moving lighted lanterns in unison. Boats that were along the river crowded in to get a glimpse. It was hard not to imagine how long that prayer had been a nightly ritual in the face of so many changes along the river. (Don’t worry, I shook myself back into the present several times in order to enjoy the show!)

Finally, as I mentioned, this morning we returned to look at the river at sunrise. Many of the ghats were busy with people bathing and praying in the river. In the boats were the tourists, taking pictures of the same. Watching people perform such intimate acts of spirituality, I found myself looking away. It felt uncomfortable contemplating photographing people in those moments, in the stillness of their acts of hope and meditation. On the other hand, given the public nature of the ritual, perhaps part of it is meant for display?

When we dismounted the boats and began to walk along the ghats, I had an overwhelming urge to put my feet in the river. Realizing that the only thing holding me back was the fact that I was not alone, I walked down a set of worn stone steps to the river. I put my foot in the Ganges and looked up into the rising sun. For a moment, I felt as though a circle closed: life, death, me, the world. It seems natural that people would want the last of their body’s existence to be here on the banks of the river, where life and hope and beauty and death coincide. For a moment, I forgot about the others in my group, waiting at the top of the ghat. Afterwards it occurred to me that perhaps the people in the river that everyone was photographing simply didn’t care.

If the picture of burning bodies and death seems gruesome, let me assure you that bobbing along the banks of the Ganges, what you observe most of and are consumed by is life.

Next post will at least be sorta funny, I promise.