I had never seen a dead body burning. I don't think that it's anything that you are ever really prepared to see. Still, there we were, looking at someone's loved one burning.
Sitting along the Ganges or "Mother River" we were in Varanasi, the holiest city in Hinduism. The city is at least 2,000 - 3,000 years old, the city of Shiva and Parvati. We had arrived the night before but taken a slow evening to ease into probably the most difficult city of our tour of India.
The next day, we got up and started to walk along the ghats. There are over 100 ghats (steps that lead to the river) and each one is painted differently and has a different meaning. As we walked along, it was quiet and peaceful - we had started to walk around in the late morning - after the frenzy of the morning and long before the evening rituals.
Our first stop brought us to an Internet cafe where we left our shoes at the door and went in to check our mail. A couple of hours later as we headed out, we discovered that Bill's flip flops were missing. They were no where to be found and the man and the woman that owned the shop both quietly sighed, "Ohhhh Bata" when we mentioned the name of the shoe brand. Though only the equivalent of a Payless shoe, it is quite an expensive brand in India and the owners both felt bad that we had such misfortune at their shop.
Continuing on, we headed to lunch at a nearby pizza parlor. Within seconds of sitting down, a bird pooped on Bill's hand. This was definitely not going to be a good day for him.
Dasashwamedh Ghat
We continued walking along the river and across the ghats until we reached a ghat wherewe noticed a large group of people sitting quietly and a flurry of activity. A man approached us. "Come quick," he said. "The ceremony is about to begin".
We made quick introductions and Sanju walked us closer. Varanasi has two crematoriums on the Ganges. Hindus believe that to die in Varanasi instantly breaks moksha, or the cycle of birth and death.
Within three hours of death, Hindus are cremated regardless of where they die. If a person dies far away from Varanasi, then there ashes may remain elsewhere for a while, but eventually many make their way to the Mother Ganges to be dispersed in her holy waters.
When the family arrives, a male is selected to represent the family for the burial. This is done because women are thought to be more likely to cry and get upset and this is not good for the spirit. The family buys 200 - 300 kilograms of wood (~150 rs/kg), enough to properly burn the body. If the family cannot afford all of the wood, a dom (spiritual man in the caste that strictly is allowed to cremate bodies) will help to ensure that the body is properly turned to ash given as much as the family can afford. The family also buys a shroud, incense and any other things required. These are all purchased from vendors that sit near each crematorium.
The elected family man will shave their head, mustache, armpits and put on a white robe. The family gets a death certificate and presents it to the dom. The body is then wrapped in the shroud and dipped in the Ganges. Each family member puts water in the mouth - five times total to represent the five types of karma. The family representative and any family members that want to participate, then walk around the body five times to represent the five elements being released from the body: air, water, earth, fire and spirit.
Next, the family representative gets burning embers from a sacred fire that is said to have been burning for 4,000 years. The family then waits as the body burns for 2.5 - 3 hours.
As we sat and watched, it was difficult to watch the body continue to burn. The crematorium was a busy place and remnants of other ceremonies remained while others were starting up. We watched as the body slowly gave way and the dom moved parts back towards the fire. By all accounts, it was a difficult thing to watch. At the same time, it was also very spiritual and we were quite taken with it all.
As the ceremony finishes, water from the Ganges is poured on the embers. The last bit of water is poured over the left shoulder of the family representative and the pot containing the water is broken. The ashes and bone (men's chest and women's pelvic bones do not burn) are then put into the Ganges and the ceremony is over. Truly over. At that point, the family is to leave their mourning behind them.
Such a somber procession was hard for us, but is just another day for the people of Varnasi. Sanju requested that we follow him to his family's shop and look at their wares. He had been patient and kind to us and though we knew what he wanted, we felt obliged to go look.
He walked us through the streets to his family's warehouses where dozens of silk looms lay abandoned as the workers went to lunch, but we marveled at the work being done. Later, we went to the family showroom and met Sony, his uncle. Sony was quite a character and after looking at his beautiful stuff, we bought a comforter as a gift for some friends that we would be staying with in Australia. He insisted that I try on a sari, if for just once in my life, and I was immediately wrapped in the beautiful fabric by Sony's nephew.
Silk looms at Sanju's family factory
I know, I know. I can't pull it off. Wishful thinking
The next morning we got up before sunrise to take a boat ride along the water and watch everyone getting ready for the day. Before we got into the boat, a cute little boy sold us some candles to light and set on the river in our family's name. As we sailed on, we saw all of the people of Varanasi coming down to the river to wash and perform their daily rituals. Some practiced yoga, come performed puja (prayers). Nearly everyone comes down to the river in the morning to wash and enjoy the spiritual healing powers of the river.
Sending good wishes for our family into the Mother Ganges
One of a few sunrises that I've ever seen
It was quite a miraculous sight to see everyone bathing. As we rode on saris sat out to dry as we wandered past many also doing their laundry. Many lathered up and we shared smiles with the bathers. Unfortunately, the river is also extremely polluted and we couldn't help but shudder a bit as we watched people take generous sips of water. But everyone was enjoying themselves as they have for years and we pushed our concern out of our minds.
Men and women bathing in the Ganges
As we approached Manikarnika ghat, our boat pulled up to the shore of the largest crematorium. We got out and were immediately met by a man that volunteers his time for the good karma he gets for helping. The man proceeded to explain the crematory process to us again, but we welcomed the second chance to hear it to ensure that we fully understood the details. As we walked along, it was strange to walk amongst all of the burning embers. Both Bill and I exchanged nervous glances as many ashes whirled around us.
At the end of the tour, the man took us to a tall building where those that are old, poor and / or infirmed and near death can stay as they await to pass. Quite honestly, it was a sad and horrible place to die. We gave rupees in donation to the people who could not otherwise afford the wood for the ritual.
Upon returning to Assi ghat (where we were staying), we hopped in a rickshaw and headed out of town to Sarnath, a town nearly six miles away. While Varanasi is the holiest city in Hinduism, Sarnath is among the holiest cities in Buddhism. It is at Sarnath where Buddha first preached his dhamma to the five bhikkus after he had attained enlightenment.
The remnants of the Deer Park at Sarnath
Though the Deer Park is mostly just remains, it is easy to picture what it may have looked like during Buddha's life and in King Ashok's lifetime (the King was a close follower of Buddha). Many of the relics found here are now across the road in the well-done archaelogical museum.
Visiting Varanasi was one of the most spiritually rewarding stops on our trip. We learned a lot about Hinduism and gained a greater appreciation for India and its customs. It was a somewhat hard city to visit because of both touts and the subject matter, but one that we will always remember.
With warm hearts, we said good-bye to the city and looked forward to our first hill station, Darjeeling.
- Chrissy