Widows in Varanasi

I worked with a student named Irine from the University of Venice who wanted to study widows in Varanasi, focusing specifically on the issue of prostitution among widows in widow ashrams. She explained that her interest was sparked by the film *Water*. Although I found the subject compelling, I was initially uncertain about finding widows to interview about prostitution. Nevertheless, the topic intrigued me, so I agreed to collaborate with her. I conducted some research and discovered a government-run widow ashram near my home.

Upon visiting, we found about 18 widows living at the ashram. The facility was in poor condition: while there was a garden and open space, the building itself appeared to be from the early 1900s and was not well maintained. An office staff member informed us that a wealthy pilgrim from Kolkata had once visited Varanasi, met a widow at a ghat, and was moved by her story. This encounter led him to fund the construction of the ashram, which was later handed over to the government. It is currently managed by the Department of Women Welfare for Uttar Pradesh.

This is the only government-run widow ashram in the entire state of Uttar Pradesh. The woman in charge of the office was receptive to Irine’s project and allowed us to interview the widows. The ashram is divided into two sections: one for widows who are able to care for themselves and another for those who are physically unfit. Each widow receives only Rs. 550 (US$ 12) per month from the government. We were told by both the widows and the office in charge that no government funds had been received for the past three months, leaving the widows without any financial support.

The office in charge mentioned that local donors, who regularly contribute to the ashram, are essential for the widows’ survival. Without these donations, the government stipend alone would be insufficient. It is difficult to imagine how one could survive on Rs. 550 a month. The widows who are capable of managing on their own live on the ground floor, while those who are older or in poor health reside on the first floor. The government provides each widow with a small gas stove for cooking, but they must prepare their own meals. The ashram has a kitchen where food is prepared for those who cannot cook for themselves, with the cooking done by office staff. There is also a washing machine for laundry, though I am unsure who operates it.

The rooms are spacious, with four beds in each. Irine was particularly interested in exploring the issue of prostitution among widows, but I was uncertain how to approach this sensitive topic with women who were all over 65, with some over 80. We decided to visit the ashram multiple times, building rapport with the widows and staff to see if any information might emerge. We also inquired about other widow ashrams in Varanasi and were directed to two additional locations. One was very close to my place, called Mata Anandmayi Ashram.

At Mata Anandmayi Ashram, we discovered that it primarily functions as a religious school for girls. The peon mentioned that there were over 20 widows there as well, but the manager was extremely uncooperative. He denied that they housed any widows, which was puzzling. We were unable to speak with anyone other than the rude manager and peon. We then visited Birla Ashram at Chowk, Varanasi, which was established by the Birla family. There were around 20 widows residing there, but we couldn’t speak with any of them on our first visit.

We encountered a woman who was not a widow but was staying there thanks to her IAS officer husband, who had arranged a room for her due to her religious interests. She was uncooperative and prevented us from speaking with the widows. She asked us to return after a few days as she wanted to consult someone in Kolkata first. We returned after a few days and fortunately, the woman was not present. We managed to speak with a widow, but she was busy at the time. She told us that most of the widows at Birla Ashram work as cooks in various households and that the ashram only provides them with a room.

The disparity in support and conditions between the ashrams was striking. Some widows, particularly those who were unable to work, seemed to receive little more than a place to stay. When a widow dies, the ashram informs the family; if no one comes, the body is cremated, sometimes traditionally and sometimes using an electric burner. The stories of the widows were both heartbreaking and enlightening. Many were forced to leave their homes due to harsh circumstances: some were expelled by their own children or daughters-in-law, while others chose to leave to avoid being a burden. A common thread among them was early marriage, with some married as young as 6 or 7 years old.

I met several women married at such a young age, and many lost their husbands by the time they were only 10, never having lived with them. One remarkable woman from Chennai, who was the most educated and articulate of all the widows we met, shared a particularly poignant story. Married at seven, she spent four years living with her parents before moving in with her husband at eleven, only to be separated from him for a year due to family traditions. After her husband’s death, she lived with her parents and later with her sister. Feeling like a burden, she initially came to Varanasi to commit suicide but was saved by a boat rower and sent to the ashram. Her story was deeply moving and highlighted her resilience.

She described South Indian widow traditions, which differ somewhat from North Indian practices. For instance, after a husband’s death, a South Indian widow’s head is shaved, and she is separated from others while sarees are thrown at her from a distance. In South India, widows are permitted to wear either white or red sarees, whereas in North India, only white is allowed. The practice of throwing sarees is not something I have heard of in North India, but considering the conditions faced by widows, it’s not entirely inconceivable.

When we asked all the widows why someone becomes a widow, they all agreed with the belief that it is due to some sin from their past life. However, they felt that the sins of widowers are not as severe. Widows are expected to follow stringent rules, such as abstaining from tasty food, not interacting with men, not going out, not wearing colorful clothes, and avoiding celebrations. Most widows believed these restrictions were necessary to atone for their sins and avoid punishment in the afterlife.

Regarding remarriage, only a few widows felt it was acceptable; most viewed contemporary widows who remarry or dress in colorful clothes negatively. The general sentiment was that widows should adhere strictly to traditional practices. The prevailing view among the widows was that they were marginalized and discriminated against, particularly in Varanasi. They are often excluded from weddings and considered bad luck. It is disheartening to see such practices, which seem disconnected from the core values of Hinduism, which I believe should emphasize equality and respect for all individuals.

This experience has taught me a great deal. The systemic issues and historical practices that have contributed to the plight of women in India are profound. While education is crucial for addressing these problems, the current state of educational and social reform suggests that change may be slow. It is clear that addressing these deep-seated issues requires not only better education but also comprehensive social and policy reforms.

Prabhu’s death and superstition

My friend Prabhu passed away last month from colon cancer. His death has deeply impacted my life, as he was one of my closest friends. I miss him immensely. I was discussing his death with two friends, Babu and Rahul. Babu has a degree in science and is preparing to study in London, while Rahul has a degree in arts. Both are educated and have lived in the city all their lives. Although everyone who knew Prabhu was aware that he died of colon cancer, Babu and Rahul offered an explanation that shocked me.

They claimed that one of the main reasons for Prabhu’s death was his motorbike, which he had purchased a year ago. According to them, Prabhu’s Saturn was not aligned favorably, and buying anything made of iron is considered dangerous for someone whose Saturn is not in a good position. They identified four mistakes Prabhu made: buying a motorbike, purchasing it on a Saturday, choosing a black color for the bike, and not allowing others to ride it. Babu and Rahul believed that black is an “anti-Saturn” color, and buying a black motorbike was a significant error.

Prabhu was very attached to his motorbike and never let anyone else, even his family members, ride it. Babu and Rahul suggested that if Prabhu had allowed others to use the bike, it might have reduced the negative influence of Saturn and helped him fight colon cancer. Hearing this explanation left me astounded. It seemed absurd to link cancer to something as trivial as a motorbike, especially when we need to understand the real causes of such diseases.

I often hear about unhealthy practices such as mixing animal fat with oil and butter, treating old potatoes with acid to make them look fresh, or the increasing consumption of meat products. While these practices are concerning, Prabhu’s doctors attributed his cancer to excessive consumption of deep-fried and spicy foods. Prabhu himself admitted that he hadn’t eaten lunch in the past seven years. He ran a Kachaudi shop and would consume 10-12 Kachaudis with very spicy vegetables every morning, then eat nothing else for the rest of the day.

He also mentioned using burnt oil to prepare the Kachaudis. He maintained this diet for seven years, and his dinners usually consisted of roti with spicy vegetables. He had rarely eaten lentils during this time and suffered from serious constipation for years without ever consulting a doctor. Additionally, he chewed betel and tobacco frequently. I believe these factors, not his black motorbike bought on a Saturday, contributed to his colon cancer.

It seems that while India is evolving with its younger generation, there are still many outdated beliefs that hinder progress. The younger generation must move beyond such superstitions to better understand and address real health issues.

Ghosts haunting the neighbors

There is a Yadav family living next door. The family consists of six members: three daughters, their parents, and their grandmother. None of them work. The grandmother, a retired nurse, receives a pension, and they also rent out a few rooms in their house, which provides their main source of income. I doubt their monthly earnings exceed Rs. 13,000, which should be sufficient for a family of six in Benares if they lead a very simple life. However, this family is constantly in trouble because they spend most of their money on exorcists.

They believe their entire family is afflicted by ghosts. The most troubling aspect is that even the grandmother, who used to work as a nurse at BHU, believes their home and family are haunted. The mother of the children suffers from severe gastric problems and burps incessantly, so loudly that I can hear it from my own home. She also experiences constant stomach pain and sometimes feels as if her whole body is burning from within. Despite these symptoms, the family insists that these issues are caused by ghosts.

They claim that the sound of her burping is the noise of the ghosts and that the stomach pain and internal burning are also ghost-related. They believe that the ghosts attack her every evening and night. When the grandmother discussed this with my father, he advised her to take her daughter to a doctor. However, the grandmother insisted that she had already consulted several doctors without any relief, and maintained that only exorcists could help. She asked my father if he knew any good exorcists, but he suggested a few doctors instead, which she refused to consider.

She described how her daughter screams uncontrollably when the ghosts attack, and claimed that someone had sent the ghost to kill her daughter and the entire family, asserting that the ghost would not leave until it had succeeded in its mission. I have also heard strange noises coming from their house and seen peculiar people performing rituals there. A few months ago, they wrapped a thread around their house and placed a large bamboo on the roof. Every evening, they burn something that fills the house with smoke, causing everyone to cough violently.

The husband of the woman with gastric problems performs this ritual, and during this time, the rest of the family stays inside their rooms, fearing that the smoke will drive away the ghosts and protect them from being seen and attacked. Sometimes, I hear them shouting at night, saying things like, “Look, he’s coming! Kick him out! Why are you here?” and other family members respond with, “Go to hell! What are you doing here? Who sent you? Why do you want to kill us?” It’s quite chaotic. They are always looking for new exorcists. I overheard them talking to someone who suggested they visit a tomb near Lucknow.

This exorcist claimed that anyone who went there had successfully rid themselves of ghosts. He mentioned that the ritual at the tomb costs Rs. 15,000 for the entire family. Spending Rs. 15,000 on exorcism seems excessive to me. While Hinduism does acknowledge the existence of ghosts, there are also simpler and more cost-effective ways to address such concerns. For instance, the name “Ram” is considered a powerful mantra that, according to belief, can dispel all kinds of evil spirits and ghosts. If I were to address the issue of ghosts, I would prefer using this straightforward and economical method of repeating the name of Ram, rather than spending a large sum on exorcisms.

Child sponsorship in Varanasi

I recently connected with a Hungarian individual named Attila, who is a computer engineer in Hungary and volunteers with a Hungarian NGO (www.afroaid.hu). This NGO operates a child sponsorship program in Africa. Attila expressed his desire to volunteer in Varanasi, India, with plans to come next year with his wife for a year. He was particularly interested in NGOs focused on children’s education programs. I introduced him to various NGOs in the area, and he showed interest in several of them. Given my own interest in similar initiatives, I suggested to Attila that we consider starting our own program in Varanasi.

Attila was enthusiastic about this idea. He shared that he had a great experience working with children in Africa and was eager to apply his expertise to establish a similar program in Varanasi. We discussed how to initiate the program and decided to begin with some preliminary research. We visited several local schools to estimate the cost of education per child. Attila was also keen on providing one meal a day to the children to alleviate the burden of meal preparation at home. We decided to start with 30 children: 10 from the city area and 20 from the village area.

We made a trip to Mehndiganj to visit Lok Samiti, which runs an education program that Attila wanted to see. We toured Lok Samiti’s school and training centers, interacted with the children, and heard some heart-wrenching stories. Lok Samiti offers evening classes for children who work during the day, which is my favorite program among their offerings. It was striking to see children working 12-hour shifts and still attending evening classes. There were more than 30 children at the evening center.

The children were incredibly innocent and curious. They asked Attila questions about his life in Hungary, such as whether he had goats, what he grew on his farm, how he came to India, and how much money he earned. Given that these children earn about Rs. 1,000 per month, Attila found it challenging to answer their questions. We also visited some of Lok Samiti’s training centers for girls over 14, where they receive training in sewing, embroidery, dance, and basic education. The aim of these programs is to empower the girls to become self-sufficient.

We asked Nandlal Master, the president of Lok Samiti, to select 20 children from his program who are both impoverished and eager to continue their education, with supportive parents. We conducted a similar search in the city and identified 10 children from impoverished families who were interested in learning. One of them was a 12-year-old girl named Rashmi, who had previously attended an English-medium private school but had to quit due to financial constraints.

Rashmi impressed me deeply. She had attended school up to the 6th standard, and my niece, who was also a student at Rashmi’s former school, told me that Rashmi was well-regarded by her teachers. Rashmi was the only child who clearly articulated her future goals. When Attila asked her what she wanted to become, she replied, “an engineer,” and specifically, “a computer engineer.” Rashmi explained that she wanted to develop computer programs to help poor people. Both Attila and I were taken aback by such a thoughtful response from a 12-year-old.

All the children we met were eager to attend school, but many faced obstacles. Some had already stopped attending school due to financial difficulties, while others who were capable of attending better schools were stuck in government schools that offered only minimal education. We have selected a few schools and plan to enroll the children in the nearest quality school to their homes starting in March 2010. Some of the children will need basic English language training to thrive in English-medium schools. We are organizing two-hour evening classes for the selected children. With this initiative, thirty families now have hope, and I feel a strong responsibility as a local supporter.

Attila has returned to Hungary but has already secured some supporters and hopes to find more for all the children. We have decided to keep office expenses minimal until we reach 50 children. Attila and his wife will be living in Varanasi for a year and managing the program’s administrative work. We aim to forgo formal office space to ensure that all funds directly benefit the program. I am excited to be involved in this project and look forward to working closely with Attila.

French hippie causes problems

I recently hosted a French guest at my guest house, and it was the first time I encountered significant issues with both a guest and my guest house. The guest, a French woman, contacted me through an online advertisement. After exchanging a few emails, I agreed to host her, as she mentioned she wanted to study Hindi in Benares and had been living in India for the past six months. She appeared to be an ideal guest since she seemed familiar with India. I arranged Hindi classes for her and left for Gwalior to attend my tour guide training.

When I checked in with my other guests, they mentioned that she seemed a bit “hippie,” but not problematic. Initially, she told me she was happy with the accommodation. However, when I returned to Benares and met her in person, it became clear that she was dissatisfied. She complained that my advertisement stated there was a kitchen, but it was not furnished. She expected a fully equipped kitchen, similar to those in the West, complete with gas connections and utilities—something that isn’t common in India.

I tried to explain the difference, but she was unwilling to listen. The next issue was the rent. She claimed that the rent I advertised was different from what I was asking. She found the Rs. 1000 per month charge for unlimited broadband internet excessive and refused to pay for it. She also thought Rs. 3000 per month for meals (lunch, dinner, and breakfast) was too high. Eventually, she proposed Rs. 6800 per month for room, meals, and internet, which was not in line with what I charged other guests, and I was not comfortable with that.

Despite asking her twice if she wanted to find alternate accommodation if she was unhappy, she insisted everything was fine. However, she seemed to have issues with everyone in the house. For instance, I keep a few plants in each flat and place them under a grate to get some sunlight. She moved the plants to a darker area and placed her mattress under the grate. When my mother saw this and moved the plants back, she became upset. Additionally, she wanted to stay out late at night, something I generally advise against for female guests due to safety concerns in Varanasi.

There is very little to do after 9 PM, but she frequently stayed out until midnight or later. One of my other guests reported seeing her drinking on a boat in the Ganga, which was quite concerning. She left after two months, but when I went to her flat, I found a large amount of garbage. I was checking to see if she had left any clothes or items that could be reused, which I usually donate to the Mother Teresa Home. I discovered a bottle of Thums Up soft drink, which I used to clean the toilet, as soft drinks are effective for that purpose.

Although she left at 7 AM, she returned around 9 AM because her train was delayed. When she saw that her garbage had been touched, she became very upset. She did not address this with me directly but later sent several emails questioning why I had touched her garbage. I tried to explain, but she refused to listen. Her behavior was quite challenging, and it felt like she was unreasonable. It was my house, and I felt entitled to manage it as needed. Her stay was a learning experience for me, and I am now much more cautious when selecting guests.

Tawayaf culture

I am currently hosting a Fulbright scholar named Megan, who is conducting research for the University of Pittsburgh. Her research focuses on the tawayaf culture. She has rented an entire flat and will be staying with us until June 2010. We have discussed various aspects of tawayaf culture in Varanasi. While I was aware that Lucknow was the most renowned center for tawayafs, Megan mentioned that the tawayaf culture in Varanasi has virtually disappeared. However, after speaking with a few friends and relatives, I learned that there are still some places where tawayafs perform.

Many people mistakenly believe that tawayafs were merely prostitutes, but this is far from the truth. Tawayafs were highly educated women, trained in various skills such as dancing, singing, and literature, and were well-respected in society. My friend Ravi told me that children from royal families were sent to tawayafs for training in behavior, ghazal writing, and other skills. The residence of tawayafs was known as a “kotha,” which is now commonly misinterpreted as a brothel, but this is not accurate. Kothas were actually places where tawayafs lived and performed.

Typically, a kotha would house multiple tawayafs, with one senior tawayaf serving as the head. The head was responsible for training the other tawayafs. Kothas often hosted dance performances every evening that were open to the public. They employed male musicians who played various instruments, while the tawayafs performed dances. Alcohol was served to special clients or occasionally to all attendees. While sex work was also part of the kotha’s activities, it was not comparable to today’s brothels where one can pay a minimal amount for sexual services.

Tawayafs were expensive, and it is said that they had the right to choose their clients. They usually had one special client with whom they maintained a significant relationship, which was quite different from the typical sex work-client relationship. Tawayafs also had children, and this special client often acted as a father figure to the children. Tawayafs were invited to perform at palaces and entertain royal families. From what I have learned, tawayafs were accepted and respected in society, although kothas themselves were still viewed with disdain.

Information about tawayafs is limited, but I have heard that there are still a few kothas operating illegally in Varanasi and Lucknow. Megan’s research on tawayafs is fascinating, but she has expressed a growing interest in studying modern sex workers due to the limited information available on tawayafs. I am eager to learn more about tawayafs and look forward to seeing what insights Megan’s thesis might offer.

Mumbai Gay Pride 2009

I attended Mumbai Gay Pride on August 16th. This date was chosen because the organizers of the event, from the gay community, decided to celebrate their freedom one day after India’s Independence Day on August 15th. They felt that while India gained freedom on that day, the gay community had yet to achieve their own freedom. The event was organized by an NGO called Humsafar, which works with the gay community in Mumbai. I had already been in touch with Humsafar about my project, and they were very welcoming. Although I was in Gwalior for training, I took a 4-day leave and flew to Mumbai, arriving on the night of the 14th.

 

I had attended this year’s Delhi Pride on June 26th and missed having a video camera. This time, I arranged for one to record the Mumbai Gay Pride. I asked my friend Yogesh, who works in Bollywood, to help me get a camera, and he provided everything I needed. On the 16th, I went to Humsafar with a cameraman and a friend from the US named Ryan, whom I had invited to join me at Mumbai Pride. My goals were to cover the parade preparations, interview a few people at Humsafar and at the parade, participate in the event, enjoy the party, and make new contacts for future collaborations.

I was scheduled to start interviews at Humsafar at noon, but upon arrival, I found several media personnel already interviewing their team. However, they arranged for someone to show me around their office, which was impressive. They had an HIV and AIDS testing center, which I had not seen in other NGOs before. The Humsafar representative took me to the second floor where preparations for the next day’s parade were underway. About 20 people, including some hijras, were practicing dances. They had a drummer playing Punjabi dhol and a large sound system. I was surprised to see them practicing traditional hijra dance.

I spent some time observing the preparations; the enthusiasm and hard work of the performers were evident. The performers were either homosexuals or hijras who sought assistance from Humsafar. The office representative informed me that the CEO of Humsafar, Mr. Vivek Raj Anand, had just arrived and offered me the opportunity to interview him. I felt fortunate to have a 15-minute interview with him, during which he demonstrated his deep knowledge and commitment to the issues.

I believe the gay community has always existed in India, but many view it as a foreign concept. Therefore, when interviewing people about gay culture, I ask about its history in India and its presence in Hindu religious texts. I believe that understanding its historical and religious context can make it easier for people to accept and support it. My goal was to interview people and share these interviews online. I conducted the interviews in Hindi to ensure that people in India could understand them. During the interviews, one interviewee shared stories from the Ramayana and other Hindu texts that indicated the presence of gay culture even during Ram’s time.

He discussed the challenges he faced, societal discrimination, and his hopes for the future. It was enlightening to learn about the history of gay culture in India, especially within Hinduism. Mr. Anand expressed interest in having me work with the MSM (men who have sex with men) community in Benares. He offered to help with funding or projects through the UP government, which was something I was eager to pursue. However, he mentioned that Humsafar does not operate outside Mumbai and Thane districts. They could provide support such as funding or training but would not extend their work beyond these areas.

Since my NGO, Sanjeevani Booti, was not yet registered under section 12A, I would not be able to collaborate with him soon. However, Sanjeevani Booti has now completed its first year, so I can apply for this registration. Mr. Anand also mentioned his gratitude to Baba Ramdev on behalf of the gay community. Baba Ramdev challenged the Delhi High Court’s judgment on Section 377 in the Supreme Court of India. Mr. Anand believed the Supreme Court would soon rule in favor of the gay community, leading to equal rights. I share his appreciation for Baba Ramdev’s efforts.

I interviewed Mr. Anand, the manager of Humsafar, one bisexual individual, two hijras, and a few gay men. It was a valuable experience hearing their stories. Despite their different backgrounds, they faced similar issues, primarily discrimination. The Humsafar manager shared his struggle to obtain a passport with a gender marker reflecting his identity as a female or hijra. Government officials were unfamiliar with the concept of transgender identities, and he had sued the government over this issue. He is currently preparing for a gender change operation but faces obstacles due to the lack of a passport.

I also interviewed a Muslim gay man with two hijras. This was my first interview with a Muslim gay individual. He shared that his family would never accept his desire to marry a man, leaving him with the choice to either escape or remain unmarried. The hijras provided fascinating insights into their community, revealing that there are two types of hijras, each with different customs and levels of respect. I had always been confused about the distinction between “hijra” and “gay.” The hijras explained that educated people use the term “gay,” while uneducated people use “hijra.” They also discussed the challenges faced by the hijra community in India, which mirrored those faced by others I interviewed.

They mentioned the existence of two types of hijras: those who marry a hijra goddess and can live with their families, and those who bless and dance at weddings. One of the bisexual interviewees was a male sex worker. It was my first encounter with a male sex worker, and our conversation was eye-opening. He recounted his experiences and challenges, including an amusing story about mistakenly offering condoms to a policeman. The first day focused on observing preparations and conducting interviews at Humsafar. After finishing the interviews, we waited for an auto-rickshaw when I met Sourendra, a 25-26-year-old who was also gay and frequented Humsafar. We went to a litti-chokha (a famous Bihari food) party with my friend and interviewed Sourendra over dinner at 1 a.m.

I regretted bringing Sourendra to the party because his presence attracted unwanted attention from other guests. Despite the discomfort, Sourendra was open and energetic, discussing his experiences with discrimination and societal expectations. He shared an intriguing story about the existence of gays and hijras during Krishna’s time, which I had never heard before. After the parade, my friend Bijay took me to a renowned restaurant near August Kranti Marg. Following a few beers, we went to Bijay’s hotel and later to a party at a disco. The Mumbai party was distinct from the Delhi party, being organized by participants rather than the parade organizers.

Despite the Rs. 500 entry fee, the party was lively and had a larger turnout, including more lesbian couples. I drank too much and got drunk, witnessing many gay couples showing affection. The Mumbai Gay Pride seemed more organized compared to Delhi’s. There was a van with banners, posters, masks, and t-shirts, though the t-shirts sold out quickly. They also distributed bottled water and had volunteers collecting trash, making it a cleaner event. Many people watched the parade from their balconies, and some joined spontaneously. The Mumbai parade featured more transgenders and hijras than Delhi’s, with a group performing traditional hijra dance.

The parade ended at August Kranti Marg with speeches from social workers and NGO members about gay rights and future plans. I also interviewed a gay couple at the beach nearby. Regarding Section 377’s repeal, I found that everyone I spoke to was happy about it. A participant explained that such laws are crucial for societal change, and while Section 377 did not directly impact gay culture, it altered societal attitudes over time. With its repeal, there is hope for equal rights in the future, even if it may take decades. After the parade, Bijay and I went to a disco party. The Mumbai party, organized by participants, had a higher turnout and was different from Delhi’s.

Although I had to leave early for a 6 a.m. flight back to Bhopal, the party was memorable. Ryan helped me pack and get to the airport. Despite the craziness, I thoroughly enjoyed the trip, meeting new people, learning about their experiences, and establishing connections with Humsafar. They have invited me to the parade next year, and I plan to attend. My friend Sanjay, who initially thought my project was crazy, changed his perspective after hearing the interviews. He now supports equal rights for gays.

The stories I shared about gay culture in Hindu religion helped shift his view. I believe that if more people learn about the historical presence of gays in Hindu culture, acceptance will grow. The main issue behind discrimination against gays in India is a communication gap, especially regarding sex practices, compounded by the 150 years of Section 377. This law deeply affected societal attitudes, but historically, gay practices were part of Hindu culture. The British altered everything, and as we slowly address the issues they left behind, I hope we can also overcome this outdated system.

Sunita Williams missing

I stayed at JNU for two days with a Muslim friend, whose brother and cousin are also students here. They told me a surprising story from their time at Aligarh Muslim University. A few years ago, all students were gathered for a lecture by a mullah (an Islamic religious leader). The students were initially unsure what to expect, but the lecture turned out to be a tirade against America rather than a discussion on Islam. The mullah spoke about Sunita Williams, an astronaut of Indian origin who flew to space under NASA’s program in 2006.

He claimed that while she was in space, looking down at Earth, she saw the entire planet in darkness except for two places—Mecca and Medina, the two holiest cities in Islam. According to him, these cities shone brightly, like stars, while the rest of the Earth remained dark. This, he argued, was a miracle from Allah, demonstrating that Allah is supreme and that Islam is the only true religion. The mullah asserted that after witnessing this “miracle,” Sunita, along with six other astronauts she was working with in space, became deeply devoted to Islam.

When they returned to Earth, they converted to Islam. The mullah claimed that the American government disapproved of their conversion and took action against them, leading to the disappearance of Sunita and the other six astronauts. While the mullah did not provide details about what happened to them, it was implied that their disappearance was a result of their conversion to Islam and the American government’s disapproval. My friend said the mullahs were extremely agitated and loud while sharing this story.

The mullah claimed that Sunita was frequently featured on Indian TV before and shortly after her space mission. However, he asserted that she disappeared from the media shortly after her return. The mullah questioned the students about Sunita’s whereabouts and suggested that her disappearance was due to her discovery that Mecca and Medina were the most radiant cities on Earth and her subsequent conversion to Islam. He implied that the American government was responsible for her and the other astronauts’ disappearance because of their conversion.

This claim infuriated many students, and even my friend, who is pursuing a PhD, believed the mullah’s story. I was taken aback that someone so educated could accept such a fantastical tale. I knew the story was false, so I decided to show him some information online. I already knew that Las Vegas is famously known as one of the most brightly lit cities on the planet, and I shared that with him. While he pretended to reject the mullah’s story after reading the Wikipedia article on Las Vegas, it was clear that he still leaned towards believing the mullah’s narrative.

I recall that my friend once told me it was his dream to witness the complete destruction of America before he dies. When I asked him why, he recounted several grievances related to America’s actions in Israel, Afghanistan, and Iraq. I don’t understand why some religious leaders engage in such behavior. What drives them to spread false information and involve themselves in politics? They should recognize that these actions contribute to the decline in religious participation.

Religion itself isn’t inherently problematic, but it becomes problematic when it is led by individuals who exploit it for their own agendas. For instance, some of my Christian friends mentioned that, historically, churches in the West used to issue certificates of forgiveness for sins in exchange for money. Practices like these erode people’s faith and lead them to question the authenticity of religious institutions. Religious leaders need to understand that their actions have significant consequences, and such practices can undermine the credibility of their faith and institutions.

They should realize that their actions are not beneficial to religion; rather, they will have a profoundly negative impact in the future. With the rapid spread of information and the increasing accessibility of the internet, their misleading practices will come under scrutiny. As people gain more knowledge and question these actions, these leaders will find themselves without valid answers. They should see this as a warning sign and recognize the potential dangers of continuing down this path.

Music in Islam

I made a lot of new friends while staying in Gwalior for tour guide training, and two of them were Muslims. One of them, with whom I shared an apartment, is a doctoral student from JNU. He comes from a very small village in Bihar’s Sitamarhi district. He completed his schooling in Sitamarhi, then moved to Aligarh Muslim University for his B.A., and is now pursuing his Ph.D. at JNU. He works as a Spanish escort and earns a good income. He has a deep passion for music, and a substantial portion of his computer hard drive is filled with music files.

He played music constantly, and I noticed a large music system in his hostel room at JNU. He is set to marry in December, and he and his brother, who also lives in JNU, were discussing how to arrange the music for the wedding. They wanted a band for the wedding parade and music for the reception, but Islam forbids it, and his family and neighbors are very strict followers of Islamic traditions. He told me that in his village, playing any kind of music is forbidden. If someone is caught playing music, the villagers would yell at them and stop the music immediately. If he were to play music, people would criticize him for engaging in such a “bad” practice despite his education and Ph.D. Music is a serious issue in his village.

I listened to him and his brother discuss this for over an hour, and they couldn’t come up with a solution for including music at the wedding. I suggested that change often happens in society and perhaps this could be an opportunity for him to bring about change, but he felt it was nearly impossible to change deeply ingrained traditions in his community. I’ve never attended a Muslim wedding myself, but I’ve seen a few from the outside and noticed that they did include music. He explained that rules are enforced by influential people, and if they break them, it’s overlooked.

However, if ordinary people break these rules, it causes problems. He said that while wealthy Muslims can enjoy music, dances, and alcohol, the general Muslim population is restricted from these pleasures. When I asked how ordinary people view the rich Muslims who break these rules, he said they are seen as being out of touch with their community. Music is respected in many cultures around the world. In Hinduism, for example, Saraswati is the goddess of music, and people perform rituals with their musical instruments. It’s hard for me to imagine a wedding without music. Hindu weddings are lively, with plenty of music and dancing.

I’ve also heard that Christian weddings can be somewhat subdued, but I’m sure they include music. Music is enjoyable and even has proven health benefits according to scientific research. I respect people’s beliefs, but this issue is difficult for me to grasp. Many Mughal emperors, like Akbar, were great patrons of music. Tansen, one of the Nine Jewels of Akbar’s court, was a renowned musician. I conducted research by discussing the topic with Muslims and exploring online resources to determine Islam’s stance on music. To my surprise, I discovered that Islam indeed considers music to be haram and sinful. It seems like anything that makes the living creatures happy is prohibited in Islam but this rule does apply on the rich as said by my friend.

Project for the guide training program

After completing the classroom teaching and orientation tour, I’m now set to begin fieldwork in my local town for the next two months. Initially, I was eager to explore LGBT tourism as my project because it’s a relatively untapped area in India and would allow me to connect my NGO work and research on the LGBT community with this project. However, I had to reconsider due to advice from friends and others who cautioned against it. They pointed out that a professor’s approval can often depend on personal preferences.

Given that LGBT tourism is a new and controversial concept in India and faces significant opposition, there was a risk that my professor might not support it. This seemed plausible given the widespread negativity toward the LGBT community in India. So, I decided to shift my focus to ecotourism. I initially planned to promote the rock paintings and waterfalls in Mirzapur district. My research showed that Mirzapur, with its untapped potential for ecotourism, had no existing tours being marketed. However, just two days before I was supposed to finalize my project with the institute, I read a news article about three foreigners being robbed at a well-known waterfall in Mirzapur.

Since some parts of Mirzapur are Naxalite-affected, this raised significant concerns about safety. Promoting a destination with such risks would be irresponsible. With my initial plan off the table, my only remaining option was to focus on Benares, which I had hoped to avoid. Previous projects on Benares have mainly covered heritage, culture, and mythology—topics I wasn’t particularly excited about. Tourists today are different from those of the past; they’re more interested in social issues, society, and politics rather than just history. Thus, I chose to focus on Benares with the topic “Benares: A Place for Everyone.” My professor approved of this subject, noting that it was unique and more engaging than a history-focused project.

My interest in this subject stems from Varanasi’s remarkable diversity. Although I’m not entirely sure if it’s the most diverse city in India, it certainly has a rich mix of cultures and religions. I plan to explore how Benares serves as a significant place for Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists, Jains, Sikhs, and Christians. Despite the small Christian population, there are several old churches that deserve attention. I also want to highlight how Benares, traditionally known as a city where Hindus come to die, has transformed into a vibrant hub for migrants seeking employment and a new life. This shift from a city of death to a city of life is a fascinating development that I want to investigate.

I have a lot of ideas for this project, but I’m unsure about the scope and how well I can incorporate my thoughts into the report. Nonetheless, I’m excited about the opportunity and looking forward to diving into this diverse and dynamic subject.