Research on death in Varanasi

A German girl named Sophia reached out to me on Couchsurfing, inquiring about Hindi classes in Varanasi. At the time, I had a tenant named Dave from the US who was learning Hindi with Professor Virendra Singh, so I introduced Sophia to him. Sophia was conducting anthropology research for the University of Berlin and was interested in the lives of people who come to Varanasi to die. I took her to a place where Sadhus come to spend their final days and translated the interview for her. Sophia was thrilled to understand the people, thanks to my translations.

She asked if I could work as her translator for the next few days. I was excited about the opportunity but was concerned about my prior commitment to Amanda, another student from Yale University, who was scheduled to visit Varanasi soon for research related to Coca-Cola. We agreed that I would work with Sophia first, and if Amanda arrived, I would assist her. We visited three monasteries: Machali Bandar Math, Mumukshu Bhavan, and Kashi Labh Mukti Bhavan. All these monasteries are for individuals who come to Varanasi to die, but they differ slightly in their focus.

Machali Bandar Math only permits Sadhus and Sanyasis, Mumukshu Bhavan accommodates both Sadhus and non-Sadhus, including families, and Kashi Mukti Bhavan is a short-stay place for the seriously ill. People at Kashi Mukti Bhavan do not stay long-term. During our visit to Mumukshu Bhavan, we encountered a woman who had been there for 30 years, waiting for her death. She had come to Varanasi with her husband, who died after two years, but she continued to wait. Despite her lengthy wait, she was cheerful and felt that dying in Varanasi was her ultimate wish. She prayed daily for her death to come in Varanasi, believing it was the best possible end.

We also visited two Aghor monasteries: Kina Ram and Bhagwan Avdhoot Ram Ashram. Sophia was particularly interested in the ash used by Aghoris. We learned that they use it for protection against diseases and other issues, believing its efficacy depends on faith. They carry the ash with them during travel to use daily, even when away from the monastery. At Kina Ram Monastery, there is a fire that has been burning continuously for hundreds of years. They use wood from cremation sites for this fire, a practice rooted in religious significance, though I didn’t fully understand why. Cremation sites hold great importance for Aghoris, who perform many rituals there, including special pujas during Diwali.

The second monastery, Bhagwan Avdhoot Ram Ashram, is listed in The Guinness Book of World Records for treating the highest number of leprosy patients. They operate an Ayurvedic hospital for leprosy, a school for street children, a library, a research center, and a press that publishes Aghora books. Founded in 1962 by Aghor guru Bhagwan Avdhoot Ram, the monastery also organizes group weddings to avoid the wastefulness of traditional ceremonies. Attending one of these weddings was enlightening, as Aghor followers’ philosophy differs from mainstream Hinduism, particularly in rejecting casteism.

I was surprised to see a Kshatriya serving as the priest, and when I asked, they explained that anyone who studies religion or Sanskrit can become a Brahmin. I was impressed by their inclusiveness. We also visited Mother Teresa’s home in Varanasi to interview people. The environment was warm and compassionate. Although run by Catholics, the institution allows residents to practice their own religions and provides both vegetarian and non-vegetarian meals. I admired the dedication of the nuns there.

We interviewed some Doams working at the cremation sites. They explained that babies, pregnant women, leprosy patients, Sadhus, and those bitten by snakes are not cremated but are instead immersed in the river. Doams often drink and smoke, and they even asked Sophia to buy them whiskey. They said that drinking helps them cope with the difficulties of their job, as cremating bodies is emotionally taxing. They also shared the belief behind why people come to Varanasi to die.

According to them, when Shiva left Varanasi, he made Vishnu promise to whisper the name of Ram into the ears of those dying in Varanasi. Hearing Ram’s name at the moment of death is believed to lead to liberation. They explained that although Shiva now resides on Kailash, Varanasi remains on his trident, reinforcing its significance. We finally visited Lali Baba, a notable Aghori baba. Sophia was eager to spend time alone at his monastery to observe his daily routine. She was thrilled to meet Lali Baba, remarking that despite his commercial nature, it was a worthwhile experience. I also found Lali Baba fascinating.

Soon after, Amanda arrived, and I had to switch my focus to work with her.

Stupid Coca-Cola manager

While working on a project related to Coca-Cola, we were passing by the Coke plant in Mehndiganj, Varanasi when we noticed a house right next to it. My researcher friend was keen on interviewing someone nearby, so she asked me to find people who might agree to an interview. As I got out of the taxi in front of the Coke plant, I noticed a few security guards at the plant gate. They observed me and then went inside the plant, though I initially didn’t think much of it.

I found an elderly man in the house who was willing to be interviewed, as he was facing significant difficulties. I called my friend, and as she approached, I saw the same security guards watching us from the roof of the plant. When they saw the white girl coming towards me, they quickly descended from the roof. I assumed they were simply curious about our activities. A few minutes later, a well-dressed man arrived with several security guards. He introduced himself as a regional manager from Amar Ujala, a leading Indian newspaper, and claimed to be researching the Coke issue for an upcoming article.

He showed me an ID card issued by Amar Ujala, which confirmed his affiliation. He expressed interest in collaborating with my friend and was thrilled to find another researcher working on the same topic. They exchanged contact details. Meanwhile, the interviewee was vocal about his grievances with Coca-Cola. He claimed that he had been a landlord before Coke’s arrival but had struggled to grow enough crops since the company’s operations began. The Amar Ujala representative, however, argued that Coke provided many local jobs, a point the interviewee disputed.

The representative then gave the interviewee a written note, advising him to take it to the Coke manager to help his unemployed son find a job, claiming the manager was his good friend. The interviewee was hopeful that this would secure employment for his son. After the interview, we left, and I contacted Mr. Nandlal Master to update him. To my shock, Mr. Nandlal Master revealed that the Amar Ujala representative was actually Coca-Cola’s area manager, Mr. Amit Sinha. He had previously worked for Amar Ujala but left a few months ago to join Coke. The ID card he showed was from his time at Amar Ujala, which he had not returned.

Later that evening, Mr. Sinha called my friend, asking to meet her the next day. He called again that night, and his behavior became increasingly inappropriate. He suggested she stay with him at his place, which she declined, preferring to meet in a public setting. Despite her refusal, he persisted with suggestive comments and invitations. When she mentioned she was married, he rudely suggested that her husband wouldn’t know, which prompted her to angrily hang up the phone. She was deeply disturbed by this encounter, an unexpected behavior from a Coca-Cola manager.

The incident led to significant pressure from everyone involved to lodge a formal complaint. My friend was reluctant due to concerns about her privacy and the potential for public exposure. Mr. Nandlal Master also reached out to Amar Ujala, who were also interested in pursuing a case against Mr. Sinha for misusing their name but needed a written complaint from my friend, which she was unwilling to provide. A few days later, we visited the Coke plant with special permission from Coke US. I confirmed Mr. Sinha’s employment with Coke, and the company made efforts to appease my friend, showing her their nearby rainwater harvesting sites.

However, these sites were not close to the plant, the nearest being about 8 kilometers away. In the days that followed, Mr. Sinha attempted to settle the issue by offering money through Mr. Nandlal Master, which was firmly rejected. The situation continued for over 15 days, with persistent pressure on me to convince my friend to file a complaint, but she refused. Eventually, she left India, hoping that Mr. Sinha would be held accountable in the future, although he remains Coca-Cola’s area manager to this day.

For privacy reasons, I have not disclosed her name in any related posts.

Conference on Coca-Cola, Mehdiganj, Varanasi

It was the last day of the conference (30/03/2008) and also a day of protest in Mehndiganj, and we aimed to cover it comprehensively. As we approached the conference venue, I noticed more than ten police officers stationed there. Recalling the 2006 protest videos where the police had harshly beaten protesters, I felt a bit apprehensive. However, I knew that with everything being covered on camera, the police were unlikely to repeat such actions, as they would be held accountable in court.

We were particularly interested in interviewing out-of-town participants. Amanda was keen on speaking with activists from Kaladera, Rajasthan, where another Coca-Cola plant has created similar problems as in Mehndiganj. We interviewed Mr. Kudi ji, a prominent activist leading the movement against Coca-Cola in Kaladera. He was a genuinely kind and honest individual. Mr. Kudi ji described the issues in Kaladera, explaining that the water quality, once excellent, had deteriorated significantly since Coca-Cola’s arrival. The water now had a sour taste and a foul smell.

He mentioned that the Tata Energy Research Institute (TERI) had also advised Coca-Cola to leave Kaladera. Accompanying Mr. Kudi ji were two other activists dressed in traditional Rajasthani turbans. I had heard a lot about the impressive length of Rajasthani turbans and was eager to see one for myself. I had heard they could be as long as 15 meters, so I asked them to show us their turbans. To my amazement, the turban of one of the activists measured 11 meters long. Both Amanda and I were astonished by the length.

After finishing our interview with Mr. Kudi ji, we spoke with a representative from a laboratory in Chandauli district. This lab had conducted research on Coca-Cola’s rainwater harvesting sites. The representative reported that several of these sites were not functioning properly, with many water filter systems being filled with bricks rather than the necessary components. He pointed out that Coca-Cola’s claims about balancing groundwater through rainwater harvesting seemed dubious, especially given the lack of rain in recent years. His perspective was that planting a significant number of trees might be a more effective way to address the rainfall deficit and improve water availability.

Mehdiganj Conference 29/03/08

On the 29th, we arrived in Mehndiganj around noon, brimming with excitement for Medha Patkar’s visit. To my surprise, the Regional Pollution Control Officer was giving a speech when we got there. This was shocking because he was known to be an opponent of Lok Samiti. I had interviewed him several times with other researchers, and he had always been quite rude. I distinctly remember him once angrily telling me not to return to his office. Yet, here he was, delivering a speech in support of Lok Samiti, claiming, “I am here because I care about the environment, and I am thrilled to see others who share this concern.

Although I am usually very busy, I couldn’t resist coming when Nandlal invited me.” I was skeptical and believed his words were insincere. I asked Nandlal how he managed to get the officer to attend. Nandlal explained that he initially refused, but Nandlal threatened him with unspecified consequences if he didn’t show up. It was rather amusing. During this time, Medha Patkar arrived at the conference and took a seat next to me. Her attire was simple, yet dignified. The Regional Pollution Control Officer, eager to meet her, arranged through Nandlal to make his introduction.

Upon meeting Patkar, he touched her feet in a gesture of respect. Patkar inquired about the water and pollution conditions in Mehndiganj. The officer stated, “The water level in Mehndiganj is decreasing.” When Patkar asked why, he attributed it to “less rain.” Patkar then questioned whether Coca-Cola was contributing to the problem, to which the officer responded with a firm “NO.” Hearing this was quite amusing, as it was widely known that the lack of rain was a major issue, but Coca-Cola’s activities were also a significant factor. While rain was beyond control, Coca-Cola’s impact was not.

As Patkar spoke with him, other social activists joined in, questioning the officer about pollution levels. He was visibly sweating and appeared overwhelmed, like a goat surrounded by lions. The officer had brought some official documents, including a letter from Coca-Cola to the State Pollution Control Board in Lucknow, requesting the renewal of their waste disposal license. This letter was dated July of the previous year. The officer claimed that the government had not yet renewed the license. This revelation sparked outrage among the social activists, as Coca-Cola was not supposed to operate without a valid license.

Despite operating multiple times since July, Coca-Cola had not been penalized. The activists demanded a copy of the document, but the officer was reluctant to provide it. Nandlal managed to get a xerox copy while I also obtained copies of the documents. The officer extended an invitation to Nandlal and the social workers to his office in Varanasi for further discussion and promised to assist them as much as possible. However, I remained doubtful of his willingness to genuinely support their cause. After the officer left, we went for lunch. Post-lunch, it was Medha Patkar’s turn to speak. She was impressive—strong, pragmatic, and able to command attention.

Her speech was captivating, and she discussed the issues not only in Mehndiganj but also in other states. She criticized not just harmful companies but also government policies. She shared a concerning story from Chhattisgarh, where the state government had sold a section of a river to a private bottling company. The company had cordoned off the river with ropes and put up a sign declaring it their property, forbidding individuals from using the water without permission. This had created significant problems for the local population, and Patkar continued to fight against this issue.

The 29th was an extraordinary day in Mehndiganj. We witnessed Medha Patkar’s powerful address, saw the Regional Pollution Control Officer struggling under scrutiny, and Amanda had productive conversations with Sandeep Pandey, Medha Patkar, and Amit Srivastava. It was a memorable and impactful day.

Conference on Coca-Cola Mehdiganj

On March 28th, Amanda and I headed to Mehndiganj. We arrived to find a bustling conference in full swing, with over 500 attendees present. The atmosphere was lively, with a musical group performing folk songs about the Coke issue. I had seen these performers before and always enjoyed their music, so despite the noise, I found the experience enjoyable. Lok Samiti was inaugurating a new pond in Mehndiganj, and most people were attending that event. We went to the inauguration site, which was about 2 kilometers away from the conference venue.

By the time we arrived, the inauguration was over, but we managed to catch the tail end of the celebrations. Nandlal Master, Sandeep Pandey, and other social workers were distributing sweets to the villagers. I missed the ceremony itself but took plenty of pictures. While there, I met Anurag, Sandeep Pandey’s cousin who was working with ASHA. He was enthusiastic and wanted to engage with everyone. I also met Mr. Rajiv from New Jersey, a friendly member of ASHA. Amanda wanted to conduct interviews, but due to the noisy environment, we decided to focus on recording the speeches for the day instead.

Lunch was provided by Lok Samiti, and we joined about a thousand other people for the meal. Amanda and Dave were both offered food repeatedly. Dave was thrilled with the Indian food and ate everything, while Amanda left some of her food, as was her habit. After lunch, we returned to the conference. It was Dave’s turn to speak, and Anurag translated his speech. Although the translation wasn’t perfect, it sufficed. Dave spoke about a river in the U.S. that had caught fire due to heavy pollution, which made me think about the future of the Ganga.

He highlighted the importance of wetlands and the need for government intervention in environmental issues. I agreed with his points and appreciated his thoughtful speech. Following Dave, many other social workers gave speeches. One speaker from South India, who initially claimed he couldn’t speak Hindi and would give his speech in English, surprised everyone. He began in English but soon switched to fluent Hindi. I wondered why he chose to speak English initially, given that the audience was predominantly local villagers who did not understand English. It seemed he might have been trying to reach out to the few foreigners present, which felt misplaced given the context.

Reflecting on my previous experience in Mehndiganj, I remembered a cultural program organized by Lok Samiti about seven months earlier. During that event, when a guest from London was introduced, the villagers showed limited understanding of international geography. Some villagers debated whether London was far from Lucknow or close to Delhi, revealing their limited exposure to global locations. This incident underscored the lack of broader knowledge among the villagers, highlighting that the South Indian speaker’s attempt to address foreigners instead of focusing on the local audience was misguided.

The day ended with another folk song performance, and by the end of March 28th, we wrapped up our activities and headed home. The conference had been a mix of engaging moments and moments of disconnect, but it was an experience full of insights into the local dynamics and challenges.

Conference on Biology at BHU

I had a tenant named Dave staying with me. He was a biologist from Fresno, California. Dave was invited to speak at a world environment conference at BHU, scheduled for on March 28, 2008. I accompanied him, along with my friend Amanda from the USA, who was conducting research on the history of Coke in India. I was assisting Amanda as a translator. We all went to BHU together. Dave was eager to introduce his company to an Indian audience, as he has a deep love for India and often dreams of returning to live here and learn Hindi. He was particularly excited to speak about wetlands.

We arrived at BHU at 2:45 PM and had special guest seating. It was my first time sitting in the guest area, thanks to Dave. We waited for Dave’s turn to speak, but unfortunately, it never came. We stayed until 7:30 PM, but Dave was never called to the stage. We were disappointed by this oversight from such a prestigious university. We reached out to BHU officials, who apologized and promised to reschedule his speech for the next day at 10:00 AM. The following day, we arrived on time again but waited until 2:30 PM, only to find that Dave’s name was still not called.

Given that Dave had another scheduled speech at the Mehndiganj Water Conference at 3:00 PM, we decided to leave BHU and head to Mehndiganj. Although we arrived 30 minutes late, Dave was able to deliver his speech there.Dave continued to try and secure an opportunity to speak at BHU, contacting the officials once more, but they were unable to provide a satisfactory response. Since the conference was only three days long, Dave never got the chance to speak at BHU.