mortality in varanasi

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june 30

random thoughts by mbaade...

the photos are taking forever to upload. this is turning out to be quite the process. once they're done (might be a few times over a few days) the website will be posted.

my mouth hurts.

so does my back. perhaps it's time to splurge on another professional massage. i might even try the fruit one. just because. why not?

we're having issues today. both melancholy. i crave salt. she craves sugar.

i'm getting bored with anna kerenina. good book. but now i just want anna to hurry up and kill herself so i can see how she dies. maybe all of this death and mortality in good ol' varanasi is taking its toll on me.

our hotel manager guy thinks we're crazy. so does dil. i'm sure they all do. the best part about varanasi (besides the lassis) is our guest house. the ganpati guest house comes highly recommended if anyone's ever going to be in varanasi... which is unlikely, but whatever. they boys are so indulgent of us. they don't demand anything of us and are generally happy to see us spaz out every now and then. they'll miss us, i'm sure. and, well, we'll miss them. anything we want (except for the TV to work) they get or do for us. it's nice to be waited on. i could get used to this.

yesterday when we came back in a boat from chauki ghat where we bought our bedspreads from the fucker at prem silk, there was a large crowd below our hotel where people always bathe and swim. apparently a guy had just drowned. they tried to revive him, to no avail. later that afternoon, as we were leaving the guest house through the upper streets, we found out that just around the corner was where he lived apparently. his newly dead body was lying near the house on the sidewalk. women crying. a bit later we saw them parading him down the street, wrapped in orange silk, his head wobbling from side to side under the silk as they marched him with incense and chanting toward the burning ghat. so much mortality. we basically saw a guy die, saw his family weeping over his body, and then saw the funeral procession. he was one of dil's friends.

and that's life in varanasi. we sound so morbid talking about the bodies all of the time, but death is such a part of life here. i mean, hindus are either coming here to pay homage to shiva and the ganga, or to die and circumvent reincarnation. so many old people just waiting. waiting for their ashes to be washed in the river or for their bodies to be offered to it.

and in the meantime they run guesthouses and silk shops and sell lassis and row tourists on boats.

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