A Matter of Life and Death: Observations on Varanasi

Varanasi clings to the bank of the holy Ganges, a river so wider that at this point you can barely see one bank from the other. They city’s heart beats around the whims of the river, the physical embodiment of the goddess Shakti. In the monsoon the water climbs frantically six or even eight metres above its regular height and the mud, silt and ashes it leaves behind take months to clear.

 

Whilst the mud and water may wreak havoc in the town, the river herself is seen as the ultimate purifier for the soul. Bathing here will wash away your sins and those who die or are cremated on the Ganges’ banks are guaranteed spiritual release from the endless cycle of rebirths known as reincarnation.

The sacredness of the spot makes Varanasi’s Manikarnika Ghat (river steps) India’s most sought-after cremation site. Bodies are bought from all over the country to be immersed in the river, blessed by the priests and then burnt on a sandalwood fire before having the ashes cast out onto the holy water. 

The cremation ghat itself is a strange mix of the intensely spiritual and, by western tastes at least, the slightly macabre. No attempt is made to shroud the feet sticking starkly out of the lines of small bonfires and, whilst priests recite prayers over the bodies of the deceased, stray cows and dogs graze among the ashes for whatever remains of the dead. The heat of the fires, intensified by aromatic oils and clarified butter, scorches the skin even from a distance and, whilst you can imagine the soul escaping the body along with the smoke, the ash of death in your hair, eyes and throat is a rather more chastening experience.

It is said that death is the great leveller but even here there are divisions. Only the outcastes of society may touch and move the bodies and women are entirely excluded from cremation rituals; their tears would only mar celebration of the soul’s final release. The rich will pay as much as Rs. 50,000 (£600) for a funeral pyre made entirely of sandalwood and doused in precious oils but others must make do with whatever fuel they can find. Holy men, pregnant women and children need not be burned at all; their souls are already considered pure and so the body can be simply taken out into the river, weighted down with a stone and left to make its way downstream.

A visit to Varanasi makes you think about your won perceptions of life and death, as well as the views of others. In Europe we have made death, and funeral rites in particular, private, almost sterile affairs which allow the living to retain a comfortable distance from what will ultimately confront us all. In stark contrast, standing quite literally face to face with the dead, watching them dissolve into ash before your eyes forces you to consider mortality and recognise the fragility of the human body. Once the soul has gone and the body is empty of life there is surprisingly little left of a person; the body has become simply an empty shell, ready to rejoin the earth, the ashes and the waters from which it came.

Photos C. Tracing Tea 2008