Feces, food and faith hang heavily in the air at the ghats of Benares. These might be the most pervasive impressions as you step into India's Holy City, but they are unavoidably there for you to absorb, assimilate and accept--and not in a defiant or assertive way--just fundamentally!
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| While one is recovering from the culture shock of seeing bodies being cremated openly close to the river, there is something simultaneously and energetically brewing in the dark and narrow maze of lanes behind. Be ready to maneuver your way past lazing cows, scratching dogs, unfamiliar sounds, different colors and stenches of excreta and the general market banter which make a never-to-be-forgotten imprint of life lived in the raw! |
Visitors seem to have very extreme reactions towards the city of Benares: abhor or adore! While some find the peace they seek even in the midst of the unfamiliar but exhilarating experiences of food, culture and customs, others are absolutely perplexed. This very stew of conflicting motivations and impressions is what makes this city legendary.
Travel with an attitude of pre-judgement to this overwhelming city and you will get nothing out of it. An attempt to understand the city and its people is bound to leave one even more bewildered. It's the whole heady mix of death, faith, music, food, festivals, rituals and, most of all, the ever welcoming people that make Benares special. |
| A full-fledged industry of pyre wood, embellished sheets, bamboo scaffolds and other condiments for cremation are displayed attractively near the lanes near these two main burning venues. Even this most final of human practices is met with equanimity and even indifference by both old and young. It's said that almost 200- 250 pyres are lit each day, with the relatives of the dead earnestly struggling to find a spot among the many crowding the ghats to conclude the last 'Nirvanic' wish for their dearly departed. |
| A peculiar sense of detachments can grip visitors as curiosity overcomes proximity to such a personal event. Tourists observe the process with the shudder of a child viewing a forbidden scene, and the locals are happy to supply them with information and opportunities to click photographs (of course, at a cost). One cannot help but accept the harsh reality that life moves on. |
| Odd jobs exist such as that of photographers who will put their talents to use to provide the 'last photograph' of the dead--at a price--for mourners. Barbers are there to shave heads, the flower sellers, the legendary 'doms' who light the pyre and even the dogs who forage through the ashes for pieces of bones all work with entrepreneurial precision. Relatives huddle together near the pyre for one last commemoration. Every ingredient the culture demands is sprinkled around to ensure a final unfastening of the process of re-birth. |
| Another poignant phenomenon of 'waiting for death ashrams' by the river gives the thoughtful visitor food for thought. Many widows or poor people, who either choose or are left with no other alternative, live in cheerless ashrams run by local communities or royal patronage. The idea to submerge oneself in prayer and await one's death may be an inevitable thing to do for people who live under these conditions of abject poverty or for those who do so out of choice and dissatisfaction, but it is sure to throw you into an uneasy awakening about the value of life. |
| As mystifying as this rendezvous with death might be for many, it is the most accustomed part of the lives of the Benarasi people. The thinking visitor can celebrate and respect the unsettling irony--and wisdom--of those who chose to live in such close proximity to death as an inseparable part of living. |
PHOTO CREDITS: Vaibhav Mehta Photography
www.vaibhavmehta.com
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Asia