Holy Crisis.
G’day & welcome back.
In this blog I will be talking about my time I spent on the Ganges River, in particular, an ancient city called Varanasi. It is said that this city is older than religion, and older than time itself. After spending a sufficient amount of time immersing myself in the culture and atmosphere, I can attest to the stories you may have heard. Not only is this city ancient, but its life source is slowly dying, and the experts say we might be too late.
Ganges River, Varanasi.
India is a country steeped in colourful tradition, ancient culture, and mesmerising juxtapositions. Around each corner there is a story waiting to be told. The first mention of Varanasi was nearly five thousand years ago and it feels even older than that, but like most incredible places on our planet, it is slowly being exploited and commercialised for the comfort of Westerners. Fancy hotels and multi-nationality cafes pepper the elaborate maze of streets, and the amazing local cuisine and culture, is gradually being smothered and harder to find.
Local Fisherman, Ganger river.
This mighty Ganges River starts from the Western Himalayas, snakes through Northern India and flows into Bangladesh. It completes its long journey into the Bay of Bengal. “More than four hundred million people in India live in the area that feeds the river, known as the Ganges River Basin”(National Geographic Society, n.d.) and all depend on the river’s health for fresh water and crops for food. Nearly 50% of the river’s natural flow is syphoned off to farms and factories, leaving very little clean usable water for people living in the lower branches of the Ganges Basin(Ghosh, 2018).
Credit: Google image
People gather at the banks of the river to wash clothes.
Hindu Pilgrims, Monks, Sadhus, and thousands of locals, bath in the healing waters of the Ganges on a daily bases. Masses of people meander down to the banks of the river to meditate, pray, wash clothes, and place offerings. For decades the daily routine of millions, religious practices and large industrial factories have slowly strangled the life from the river.
A holy man brings a scared flame for people to woft over themselves.
I was caught in the middle of the ceremony unintentionally, as I was heading back to my hotel after sunset. Even though I was exhausted from the heat, I stuck around and watched the fascinating display of culture. Later that night I sat down and researched what I had just witnessed.
The Aarti Ceremony celebrates the triumph of light over darkness. The celebration is held every evening and often continues into the dark of night. Thousands of people gather at the ancient Ghats. They cluster together on frail wooden boats like moths to a flame. The hypnotic prayers and adept calming movements of the holy torch bearers, bring waves, cheers, and smiles to worshippers. As I watched closely I could see how much hope and comfort this brought everyone who participated.
if you want to learn more about the Aarti Ceremony follow the link below.
People Gathering for the Aarti ceremony.
In the western world we are so far removed from the sight of death, or even the thought of seeing it first hand is incomprehensible . It felt un-nerving seeing bodies so lifeless and empty for the first time. I was in shock and felt sick to my stomach, as I watched a burning ceremony first hand. After witnessing an open cremation, I felt conflicted, and torn between sympathy and bewilderment.
As morbid as this may seem, this is a common practice for millions of Hindus throughout India. The heat from the flame severs the soul’s connection to the mortal host, coaxing the soul toward the after life. It is believed that the combination of cremation and the holy Ganges water, ends the reincarnation cycle, and the soul is fast tracked to heaven.
Wood stacks for burning pyres, Varanasi.
These cremation ceremonies can be a seen as an exclusive experience due to cost for some, however, not all life qualifies for the sacred right of cremation. Due to religious superstitions pregnant women, young children and the extreme poor, are subjected to the ‘less ceremonial’ water burial, and are at the mercy of the rivers strangled current. Cows, dogs and anything dead or unwanted are also thrown into the river as an efficient means of disposal.
The corpse of a stray dog on the banks of the river.
As I strolled the ancient city streets, I could not help but wonder if it is too late for this river. This sacred river, and holy deity for millions of people, now poisoned and toxic. The river is filled with waste and viruses that kills over a million children per year. Rotting flesh, and festering pollutants, flow-freely, but still I hold the faint thread of hope. Maybe I am just young and naive- or maybe it isn’t too late.
Sacred Cows, Manikarnika Ghat.
Hindu Monk Praying at a small temple on the Ganges.
The shoreline on the burning Ghats is stained black by human ashes and often chard or unburnt remains. The air is filled with the stench of death, burning flesh and incenses. Every day at Manikarnika Ghat, hundreds of bodies are washed clean from sin in the Holy River water, then placed on a timber pyre and burnt. After the cremation the ashes are swiftly discarded into the Ganges, the ultimate resting place for a Hindu.
Men sift through warm ashes for valuable items.
Like most things, death does not come cheap for people. Richer or wealthier families burn their dead using scented or expensive wood. Sometimes poorer families cannot afford enough wood for the entire cremation. Half chard corpses can often be seen tossed into the river. Before the steam cooled from the hot ashes in the water, groups of people- desperate to survive, pick up their pans and start to sift through the human ash and remains for gold teeth, jewellery or any valuable items. (Pictured above).
Manikarnika Ghat, Varanasi.
My time spent in India was nothing short of incredible. I witnessed and experienced things, most people couldn’t even imagine. I have visited some of the most ancient and historical places in the world. I have seen wind swept deserts and experienced timeless traditions. I have witnessed sorrows, heart aches, and loss, vile acts of cruelty. My spirit has soared at the the laughter of children playing in the streets, oblivious to often miserable circumstances. While my opinions about India tend to be mixed, I can say that I appreciate the life I grew up with more than ever. I feel so privileged to have experienced this extraordinary country.
Thankyou for reading! if you have enjoyed my work and feel like supporting me for my next endevour, I would be so humbled if you would consider leaving a small donation [completely optional]. Any one who donates will go in the running to win a fine art A4 print of their choice. Thanks again for taking time to read through this Blog.
