The Complementary Nature of Life and Death

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For the first time while in India there would be no need to wake up early. There was no breakfast buffet to get up for. Instead there was an outdoor restaurant that served breakfast and dinner foods all day. And the restaurant was right outside my room. Having woke up luxuriantly late I practically had the whole place to myself. And what a place it was.

I picked a table on the rail overlooking the Ganges. From my perfect perch I could observe all the life down below. The locals boarding boats to be ferried across or down the river. People walking along the ghats. The boats clustering and drifting down the river in jolly scrums. On the other side of the river people wandered and clustered on the dry floodplain. To me the distant figures appeared as small as insects. What were their stories I wondered.

Being that this was India, Varanasi in particular, quite predictably there was no meat on the menu. I would have to find my protein sources elsewhere. I settled on a large lemon vegan pancake, a pot of chai, and a huge plate of muesli with fruit and yogurt. At least I wouldn’t starve during my stay. As I ate I listened to soothing daylight ragas on my ipod and blissed out on my sunlit location.

However, my bliss was interrupted as I began to notice I was being stalked. Up on the walls and rooftops a couple of monkeys had spotted me and begun to circle their way down towards me. I was struck by a chilling thought. With the reflective sunglasses on my face and the bananas on my plate I was practically a monkey magnet. The nefarious simians had finally reached the patio level when the waiter rushed in at the last moment with a broom and shooed them away while shouting Hindi insults. I was not taking any chances though. I took off my sunglasses and put away my shiny gold smartphone.

After breakfast I walked down the steps to the river level, ready to take on Varanasi and see what there was to be seen. I hadn’t walked too far when the tout from last night found me. He said today is the day for a shave. The guy was young and friendly and I thought it would be an interesting cultural experience. So, I said sure and we shook on an agreed upon price of 200 rupees. However, to my shock he handed me over to another guy for the actual shave. This new guy looked a lot more intense and unscrupulous. I never would have dealt with him originally, but since I had gone down this far I just accepted my fate.

I was not trusting the whole experience though, especially since I had to close my eyes during parts. Here I was sitting in a huge tangle of people, looking down as my head was shaved. I kept in touch with my pockets so I would not lose my possessions. The guy kept saying relax, which I took as a sure sign that I was about to get screwed. When the shave was finished, he decided to start massaging my neck. In my head I was figuring that he was going to try to charge extra for that. So after about a minute I stopped him and said ok I’m finished. He asked me if I was happy. I say “Yes. Happy.” His response was 500 rupees, if happy. I said “No. 200 rupees and now I go.” Which I did, leaving him thankfully in my rearview.

Today I was going to walk the length of the ghats and get a feel for this remarkable place. Along the way I saw a bit of everything. All around were people boarding boats and plying their wares. I saw many holy men, sadhus, huddling in small tents. They barely wore any clothes, and painted themselves with white dust. From what I observed, they spent their days sitting around chatting and smoking. What they were smoking I can only guess. I kept walking at a fairly good clip because I did not want to be converged upon again. However, as I got farther upriver away from the main ghats the crowds began to thin out. It was much calmer out here on the faraway ghats and best of all no touts. I found myself a small wall platform alongside some steps. I ventured out for a solitary sit and an Indian music listen.

I hadn’t been sitting too long when an Indian guy walked out to me and asked if he could sit with me. He seemed genuine so I said sure. He just peacefully sat there and eventually a couple of his young friends came to join us. They said I was a good guy and that most foreigners would not speak to them. We then had a long meandering conversation about Varanasi, Justin Bieber and cricket. They asked if I wanted to go drink Chai with them and pointed down toward a chaiwallah. I declined as I had just drunk an entire pot at breakfast. They wished me well and said goodbye and departed for their chai. It was very welcomed for me to converse with a bunch of locals and not have them want anything.

My walk continued farther along the river until the ghats began to turn rustic and slowly morph into countryside. I decided to turn around to see if I could find the main burning ghat where the funereal cremations took place. I trudged back taking in all the familiar scenes from this morning once again. Finally, I was back at the ghat where my Hotel Alka was located. There I caught sight of smoke arising in the distance. I hurried off to find the smoke’s source.

Passing large piles of wood, I came upon a striking scene of multiple funeral pyres with crowds of people gathered all around. Even cows and dogs were getting in on the action. Seeing the bodies being burned was not as traumatic as I expected. All I could really see was a smoldering shroud and a burning pile of wood. However, when the smoke is stinging your eyes and there is a faint aroma of cooking flesh it is hard not to be struck with the grave nature of what is being witnessed.

I was standing with a group of Indian men when a strange small man hobbled up to me and tried to point out the bodies to me as if I couldn’t see them already. A local guy next to me immediately told him to scram while mocking him. After clearing the strange man out, the local guy posed with me for a selfie right there at the cremation ghats. I found myself a ledge of a wall to perch upon to better take in the whole picture. Every so often I would look up the narrow lane leading to the ancient maze of Varanasi and hear shouting and chanting. And then yet another shrouded body would be carried out upon a wooden litter held aloft by the shouting men. The processions would head down toward the blackened river banks to deliver another soul to its final place of rest.

It was the perfect location staying at the Hotel Alka and being so close to the action. Letting me go easy in and retreat easy out of the madness and chaos. Whether, that be the burning ghats, riverside ambles, or the nightly Aarti ceremony which I attended once again that night. This time staying for the whole ceremony. I arrived there early enough to find a good spot on the upper steps for a good view. No sooner had I sat down then I was surrounded by teenage girls who sat down on the steps all around me, making sure to leave one modest space between me and them. This empty space became a magnet for Indian guys to plop down in so that they could request selfies with me. Holy smokes, were there many selfies taken. Eventually, the adjacent space was taken up by one guy who just wanted to sit, bounce, and chant in celebration.

When the Aarti started I realized that I would have a better chance of seeing what was going on if I stood up and moved. The kindly man who had taken a selfie with me the night before was back again, but this time he had brought his young daughter. They were both so happy as he held her aloft for all three of us to get in the picture together. I made sure to give their camera my biggest warmest smile. Another man came up to me during the ceremony and talked about the kind spiritual soul of the Indian people. At one point a beggar kid came up to me asking for money. When I refused, he poked me in my large belly. Good point.

Back on my hotel’s patio I did not even mind that my dinner was taking forever to be served. My table was literally two meters away from my room door. I could see the moon above and campfire lights on the other side of the Ganges. Take all the time you need my good man. I could stay here all night.

--Dinner time Journal Entry

“I feel much better after today. Many touts have seen me already and now just leave me alone. So what I am left with are just the friendly and the curious. Also, selfies happen so regularly that I hardly register it now. I just want to be kind and non-judgmental of the people I meet. Today I really soaked in the experience of the cremation ghats and the Aarti ceremony. Seeing the dead being celebrated and burned just blended into the surrealness and hyper-reality that I live now. Since my sister died I have entered into a new zone of living. It is quite comforting and more real than what I felt before. Throw off the cares of the world and walk forward as Tommy. No one else. Simple.

I loved the energy and devotion of the Aarti ceremony and Varanasi in general, but I do not feel as spiritually moved or deepened as I might of thought. Maybe it is too early in my stay, but it is nothing like what I experienced in Jerusalem and Galilee. That felt soul deep and personal to me. There were just signs and movements there that sent shivers to my very core. I have felt things here too. For example the dream of my sister, coincidences during the day bringing up her memory, and just this general feeling that the universe is one big friendly, intricate, astounding mass of color and love.

Then watching the bodies burn today in such a communal fashion. We are born. We briefly streak across the sky of existence. We blink out and spark up to unknown realms of the beyond. It is joyous. Don’t fight it. Float in it and maybe give a little dance of thanks.”



“We believe that death is not the end, and that life and death are complimentary” –a Jain monk

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Comments

[Dancing Dave]

Selfies for Art's Sake
I imagine your invited selfie at cremation ghats and the total distraction of such an act. Yet I also imagine that life is buzzing around you with all sorts of distractions of this and that. Breathe it all in...or is that the wrong analogy?

[Tommy No Papers]

Cremation Ghats
Breathing it all in when you're not sure what "it all" entails is probably not the best idea.