The ghats are covered.
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| A deceased individual, wrapped in a white sheet, flowers and garlands, being carried to the ghats for cremation. |
Filled with Indians of all ages, men and women, sarees and trousers. White-bearded priests with loin cloths and young women beating laundered sheets on planks. Little boys flying kites and teenagers in school uniforms huddled around smartphones. Babies learning to walk with their hands held by older siblings, mothers and aunts. A rainbow of sarees cascading down the ghats’, some embroidered and fancy while others wrinkled and daily. A depth of poverty embodied in wizened faces and begging hands.
Dotting the river banks are the smoke trails from the crematory ghats of Varanasi. Positioned in a “higher order” within Hinduism, Varanasi is renowned as a special destination to die. Thousands of Hindus come here annually to die, have their bodies cleansed by the Ganges, and cremated on the ghats.
In a single day, you can wander the market arcades and count on at least one procession of a deceased body, held up by 8-10 men and covered in flowers and golden garlands. Once covering the main streets of downtown, these processions end at the ghats with an anointment of the body at the bank of the Ganges – its final cleansing from this holy river – before cremation begins.
Cremations are expensive in materials and arrangements, and those who cannot afford individual cremations (complete with pre-cremation parade in the streets with garlands and flowers), must opt for the mass cremation service provided alongside the ghats. Individuals whose bodies are deposited directly into the Ganges – sans cremation – include babies (since their pure souls do not warrant a Ganges cleanse), pregnant women, priests and the poor.
The communal engagement of these fast-moving, drum-beating processions is remarkable even as it is shocking and humbling. I have never seen death and dying so openly integrated into daily life. I found it wildly wonderful once I moved through the initial surprise of it all.
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| The ghats, with locals washing in the Ganges. |
In addition to a deep reflection on death, dying and the deceased loved ones in my life, I brought in my new year in Varanasi. I started my New Year’s Eve day on a local boat exploring the ghats. I closed my New Year’s Eve night watching the daily prayer ceremony on the main ghat, which featured a suite of ceremony leaders who resembled fire dancers with cups of flames, intricate metal ornaments, and incense burning. My fellow travelers and I lit small candles in palm leaves and set them on the river surface as a way to welcome the new year with a few wishes offered up to Ma Ganga. A beautiful night, a beautiful beginning to a new year and in a new favorite place for me: Varanasi.
