Varanasi is the most holy Hindu city of India and many old people, if they can afford it, go to that city to die and be cremated at the banks of the Gangha (Ganges). Varanasi is therefore also reputed as a place of pilgrimage where people come to pray, meditate and have a purifying bath in the Ganges.
The old people that come to die often have dismissed all their earthly belongings and lead a marginal existence until the moment arrives. As Hindu philosophy tells: "Hey, they came to die anyway."
We stayed in Hotel Pallavi, a Muslim restaurant, so no beer.
"There is a solution," the waiter whispered.
"There is?"
"Yes, sahib, you must order a special tea."
T
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The old people that come to die often have dismissed all their earthly belongings and lead a marginal existence until the moment arrives. As Hindu philosophy tells: "Hey, they came to die anyway."
We stayed in Hotel Pallavi, a Muslim restaurant, so no beer.
"There is a solution," the waiter whispered.
"There is?"
"Yes, sahib, you must order a special tea."
That special tea turned out to be beer served in a teapot and you were obliged to drink it from a cup. That sacrifice was easily made of course. As a matter fact, large parts of India are prohibitioned these days. It made us feel like mean old gangsters from Chicago in the twenties.
Andre and I decided the next afternoon to go the banks of the Ganges and see how much is true of all these stories. We took a stroll dismissing the rickshaw riders that offered us their services. At the banks we ran into some of our friends from Limburg and together we went to the burning ghats. (Where the dead are being cremated). Strange, one moment we were walking down a narrow alley stacked with silk vendors and the next we knew we were standing at the edge of the main burning ghat of Varanasi.
An Indian man guided us into a temple to take us for a better view from the roof. Inside the temple we ran into a funeral service, so our Indian told us. A Brahman was leading the service. Funny thing was nobody appeared to be grieving very much. They laughed and clapped hands, suddenly changing into wails of despair. Our guide told us that dying at the banks of the Ganges is a happy occasion. Cremation here means that the cycle of reincarnation was broken and the soul of the expired would go to heaven? Nirvana? (Here I didn't understand my guide too well). Strange, here I was talking with an Indian about the rituals of cremation and less than forty feet away untouchables were cremating the dead. (My guide told me that seven categories are saved from the necessity of cremation: sadhous, pregnant women, children under twelve, lepers, people died of snake bite, pox victims, and animals). They are wrapped in cloth and thrown in the Ganges. Women are wrapped in red and men in white. The oldest son has to fast and shave his head in order to purify himself, for he has to light the stake. After the cremation the fire has to be extinguished with five jars of water from the Ganges. The ashes and what's left of the dead is dumped in the Ganges. To prove that one man's meat is another man's poison, is the fact I saw a so-called corpse sifter right underneath the spot where the ashes is thrown in the water, in search for rings and the like.
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