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Holy Varanasi
by Kari J. Bodnarchuk

Excerpts:varanasi

           He told me he comes from a poor family, so that’s why they do it. He had curly brown hair and a little mustache and he ran up to us as we stood watching. Two of his brothers were standing knee-deep in water, hovering over baskets of ashes that were partially submerged. Another brother was onshore, shoveling ashes and chunks of charcoal into a pile, then scooping them into a basket to be sifted through.
           The man introduced himself as Kumar, then pointed to his brothers and said, “They look for gold, silver and diamonds. Worth much. Some people, their families take off jewelry before burn, but some people too upset and leave them. So we look.”
           My friend Geri and I were standing in front of a burning ghat in India’s “eternal city,” Varanasi. A ghat is a series of steps leading down to a river. In this case, the steps led down to the Ganges River, one of the holiest places in the Hindu world. The Ganges is the ultimate place to die or be cremated. Hindus believe that if they have good karma, their souls go straight to heaven from here — no limbo, no delays. Ceremonies take place 24 hours a day and have for centuries. Some nights, the smell of sandalwood and jasmine hangs over Varanasi, creating a cloud of sweet vapor that conceals more pungent smells. And often the tinkling of bells and rhythmic drumbeats sound along the narrow streets as an important body is paraded through town . . .

    . . .

     . . . A bald man wearing a white lungi — the eldest son — appeared from a small stone temple clutching a burning stick. “The eternal fire of Shiva,” said Arit. “It will free her soul.” The man circled his mother’s body five times and then held the torch under her head until it lit up. He then walked slowly around the body, using the flame to ignite the rest of it. When he was finished, someone handed him a bag of powdery incense, which he sprinkled on the body to mask its smell. We were concentrating so hard on the ritual, it took us a minute to realize we were engulfed in smoke from the burning woman’s body. We stepped aside, but not out of view . . .


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