Category Archives: Hindu culture

End of life – Sadhus and Sanyasis

Posted on by
153

According to Hindu Dharma, there are four stages of life known as Ashrams: Brahmcharya, Grihastha, Vanaprastha, and Sannyasa. The Brahmcharya Ashram represents the student phase, which ideally ends by the age of 25. While one can continue to study beyond this age, marriage is generally expected to follow. The Grihastha Ashram begins at 26 and lasts until around 50, during which individuals are expected to marry and build a family. Vanaprastha, the stage from 50 to 75, is a time for preparing for the final stage of life, Sannyasa.

During Vanaprastha, individuals are expected to fulfill their familial responsibilities, such as marrying off their daughters and helping their sons become self-sufficient. They should also start preparing for Sannyasa by engaging in meditation and rituals. Sannyasa, which starts at around 76 and continues until death, involves renouncing worldly attachments and living a life of asceticism. Sannyasis, or renunciates, do not stay at home but reside in monasteries, which are available in every Indian city, where they live free of cost.

To become a Sannyasi, individuals must perform various rituals, the most significant being the symbolic renunciation of their physical body. They often stand naked in the river while reciting mantras, symbolically discarding their worldly self. Though they remain physically alive, they perform all the rites usually done posthumously, signifying their detachment from earthly life. Consequently, Sannyasis’ bodies are never cremated; instead, they are submerged in the river. Once they have entered Sannyasa, they are bound by strict rules.

These include prohibitions against handling money, dealing with fire, cooking, and consuming flavorful food. They must beg for their sustenance, purify their food by washing it, and repeat the name of Lord Ram 21,000 times daily. They traditionally wear orange clothing, symbolizing their devotion to Hinduism. Brahmin Sannyasis carry a staff, which is also submerged with their body upon death; no other caste members receive this staff. Sannyasis typically reside in monasteries with other Sannyasis, dedicating most of their time to repeating the name of Lord Ram.

They might receive occasional visits from their families, but generally lead solitary lives. During my work with researchers, I met numerous Sannyasis, and their stories were consistently surprising. Most expressed a profound eagerness for death, often stating that they hope to meet their end soon. I once spoke with a 70-year-old woman who had lived in a monastery for 30 years, waiting for death. She was the first female Sannyasi I had encountered. She explained that while females do not undergo the same rigorous rituals as males, they follow similar rules and live in separate sections of the monasteries.

She came to Varanasi with her husband, who had tuberculosis. After his death, she continued to live in the monastery, awaiting her own. Despite the unconventional nature of her life, she was deeply content and looked forward to her final moment. In contrast, I also spoke with a male Sannyasi, around 70 years old, who had embraced Sannyasa at 35 due to personal tragedies. Though he appeared quite ill, he too was happy discussing his impending death. I found it intriguing how people could be so content discussing their end.

Another Sannyasi I met had turned to Sannyasa to escape legal consequences. Accused of multiple murders, he sought refuge in Varanasi and became a Sannyasi to evade the authorities. He continued to live a relatively comfortable life, with family visits and monetary support, which was contrary to the austere image of Sannyasa. My experiences with various Sannyasis revealed a wide range of motivations and circumstances. Many seemed to view Sannyasa as a form of penance or a path to liberation. Despite a recent decline in the number of Sannyasis, Varanasi remains a unique destination where people come to conclude their earthly journeys.

Who are Aghoris

Posted on by
Reply

I first learned about the Aghori society while working with MTV Italy as a local assistant. My role was to find unique characters and schedule interviews for the crew. They were particularly interested in unconventional Sadhus and Aghoris—those with dreadlocks, beards, and unconventional appearances. I had just three days to arrange five days of shooting, so I had to work quickly. I visited numerous monasteries and met many babas, sadhus, and Aghoris across Varanasi.

I went to major Aghor monasteries such as Kina Ram Aghor Peeth, Bhagwan Avdhoot Ram Ashram, Baba Harihar Ram Ashram, and Baba Anil Ram Ashram, among others. I also visited both of Varanasi’s cremation grounds, Manikarnika Ghat and Harishchandra Ghat, in search of Aghoris, which proved successful. Through this, I encountered some fascinating Aghoris and gained insight into their society. Aghori society is part of the Hindu tradition but follows a distinct philosophy. They worship the same deities as other Hindus, though their rituals can be quite different.

For instance, while most Hindus celebrate Diwali by worshipping Lakshmi (the goddess of wealth), cleaning their homes, and lighting lamps, Aghoris may instead spend the night at cremation grounds. They meditate there, seeking to enhance their mantras, gain supernatural powers, or make contact with spirits, which they believe will assist them in the future. This stark contrast highlights how Aghoris and mainstream Hindus differ in their practices. Aghoris have a deep connection to cremation grounds at every level of their religious practice.

In their monasteries, you will always find a place where wood from funeral pyres is continually burned. Genuine Aghoris apply the ash from these fires to their foreheads and navels, believing it provides protection and helps heal diseases. When I spoke to Aghoris about the significance of this ash, they told me it’s largely a matter of faith. They believe that if one has faith in the ash, it can be more effective than medicine. However, if someone lacks belief, it could cause worry and even illness due to the association with cremation. The Aghoris I met had a profound faith in the ash. They applied it daily and carried some with them when traveling. One person shared that when he had a  mysterious illness that doctors couldn’t cure, applying the ash helped him recover.

Unfortunately, some fake Aghoris exploit this practice to attract followers or intimidate others, using the ash to create a sense of fear or awe.

Group Wedding in Varanasi

Posted on by
Reply

Lok Samiti organized a group wedding for 30 impoverished couples in Varanasi with the aim of providing security for the brides and promoting dowry-free marriages. All the couples were so poor that they could not afford a wedding on their own. Typically, the groom’s side demands dowry, but in this event, no dowry was allowed. Instead, all gifts for the brides and grooms were provided by Lok Samiti and other donors. I was invited by Nandlal Master and asked to contribute. Seeing the event as an excellent opportunity for my NGO, Sanjeevni Booti, I decided to participate.

With around 10,000 people expected to attend, I discussed with Lane about contributing gifts and conducting a survey on AIDS awareness among the villagers. We decided to give clocks as gifts because they are long-lasting and frequently seen. Lane had initial concerns about the ethics of giving clocks but eventually agreed with the idea. Lane covered all the expenses, including the clocks, pamphlets, survey sheets, and travel costs. I bought 30 clocks and had Sanjeevni Booti’s name printed on each one. We packed them with a pamphlet about AIDS in each packet. I asked Raju and Sonu, fellow members of Sanjeevni Booti, to assist with the event. Raju, who was busy with his job, agreed to help for a day’s pay, while Bablu could not be persuaded.

On the day of the wedding, Raju, Sonu, and I arrived at the venue. Lok Samiti members were busy decorating the stage, arranging chairs, and preparing flowers. They had also organized food for over 10,000 people. The preparations had been ongoing for a month, with chefs preparing sweets for a week. Numerous political leaders, social workers, and donors were present. The wife of Mehndiganj’s block representative contributed 30 Benaresi sarees for the brides. Lok Samiti invited the grooms and brides onto the stage. Although 30 couples were scheduled to marry, two were unable to attend, so 28 couples participated.

They exchanged garlands, completing the marriage formalities. Nandlal Master then presented a document for the couples to sign—many were uneducated and simply thumb-printed the paper. Nandlal read the document aloud, stating that the couples pledged never to fight, to live together, and that no dowry would be demanded. Any breach would result in legal action by Lok Samiti. Afterward, the couples proceeded to a nearby Shiva temple for the final rites. Traditionally, Hindu weddings involve walking around a sacred fire, but in this case, the couples circled the Shiva temple instead, with Shiva standing as witness to the marriage.

The wedding concluded with the distribution of gifts. I handed out the clocks with Raju, Sonu, and our driver. Other gifts included sarees, watches, pots, and additional items. Lok Samiti provided each bride with a sewing machine and each groom with a bicycle, believing these items would help the couples become financially independent in the future. Amanda, my American friend, also contributed a sewing machine and two boxes of refined oil. It was a memorable experience to see 30 couples marry simultaneously on the same stage.

I found it particularly interesting that three of the brides appeared to be sleeping on stage, which seemed unusual for a wedding. Nandlal Master mentioned that Lok Samiti plans to organize similar group weddings in the future, with 51 couples expected next year. I appreciated the way Lok Samiti handled the event, ensuring everything was formalized on paper, which should help prevent dowry demands and ensure the brides’ security.

Research on death in Varanasi

Posted on by
4

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.

Financial Times article on Untouchables

Posted on by
Reply

I worked with Mr. Jo Johnson, the South Asia Bureau Chief of the Financial Times, as a local assistant and translator. He was accompanied by a photographer named Tom Pietrasik. They were in search of 24-year-olds, particularly from the Musahar community. The age of 24 was significant because it is the typical age when Indians enter professional life. The Mushahars were of particular interest due to their status as untouchables in rural India. They survive by collecting long pepper leaves (Pipal), making bowls from them, and selling them in the market.

The Musahar community near the Coke plant had also been affected by the issues caused by the plant, making them ideal subjects for their interviews. Joseph and Tom were scheduled to arrive at Taj Hotel, Varanasi, at 11 a.m., but their flight was delayed, so I had to wait for over two hours. I finally met them at 1 p.m., and we decided to head to Mehndiganj, as we were already running late. Mr. Nandlal Master, who leads the movement against Coca-Cola in Varanasi, was supposed to meet us but had to travel to Ballia for urgent work.

He arranged for Urmila Didi to accompany us to the Mushahar village and assist with the interviews. Our first stop was a village near Mehndiganj where we interviewed a 24-year-old man. We initially met him at his farm but decided to move the interview to his home for a better understanding of his livelihood. After the interview, Tom wanted to take photographs of him. He took several pictures at the home but also wanted to capture images at his workplace. Tom meticulously adjusted angles and backgrounds, which, though professional, made the interviewee feel uncomfortable.

He confided in me that he felt like he was being treated as a spectacle, but I managed to persuade him to cooperate with Tom and Joseph’s requests. Next, we visited a Mushahar community. Although we were looking for 24-year-olds, most people didn’t know their exact birthdates. Eventually, a family pointed us to a 24-year-old woman, whom we interviewed. Tom repeated his approach of taking numerous photos, which, once again, upset both the woman and the community. Despite this, we completed our interviews for the day and returned home.

The following day, I met Tom at Assi Ghat, and we did a boat ride from Assi Ghat to Manikarnika and back. Tom took many photos and asked me about the funeral process. After the boat ride, Tom went back to his hotel, and I returned home. Later, I met them again at Taj Hotel, but they decided not to conduct any more interviews, as they were satisfied with the previous day’s work. Instead, they chose to explore the city. Tom wanted to stay an extra day in Varanasi to do more photography at the Ghats. Mr. Joseph wanted to visit the Ghats as well, so I accompanied him to Assi Ghat, where he chose to explore alone.

I left him there and went in search of a hotel for Tom. Due to the tourist season, most hotels were fully booked. After visiting more than 15 hotels, I finally found an available room near Shivala with air conditioning, and I booked it for Tom. The next day, I met Tom at his hotel at 4 a.m., and we spent over seven hours at Dashashwamedh Ghat. Tom took numerous photographs throughout the day. By the end of the day, Tom departed for Delhi, and my work with the Financial Times concluded.

Pollution in Ganga

Posted on by
Reply

I started writing this post after hearing a news report on India TV news channel about the alarming prediction that the Ganga could dry up within the next 30 years. It leaves me wondering what is happening to us as a nation. Are we simply waiting for this vital river to become a relic of the past? The Ganga holds immense sacred significance for Hindus and world in general. Only someone deeply devoted to this river can truly understand its spiritual importance, and even then, words may fall short. Every day, more than 50,000 people bathe in the Ganga in Varanasi.

Pilgrims from all over India come to Varanasi to take a sacred dip. Yet, the water that was once revered for its purity is now severely polluted. While the Ganga remains sacred in a spiritual sense, the quality of its water has deteriorated significantly. My own mother, a deeply religious woman, has stopped bathing in the river. She still visits the Ganga and touches its waters, but she no longer drinks it. Hindus traditionally use Ganga water to bathe their deities, believing it to be the purest water on earth, but my mother has even stopped bringing Ganga water to our home temple.

When I discuss this issue with others, the common response is that the government and certain NGOs, tasked with water purification programs, are to blame for the Ganga’s current state. I frequently walk along the ghats of Varanasi and watch people bathing in the river. While I have also bathed in the Ganga, I can no longer bring myself to do so. The water is now murky and black. As a tour guide, I often take foreigners on boat rides. At Shivala Ghat, one can observe a small sewage discharge, with the water near it thick and foamy.

Shivala Ghat is not the only location where sewage mixes with the river. There are more than seven major discharge points and countless smaller ones. We have the resources and technology to clean this river—not only the Ganga but all our rivers. We are investing heavily in projects like the Commonwealth Games, infrastructure development, and special economic zones. We have modern subways and advanced facilities. Cleaning the Ganga should not be beyond our capability. Yet, it seems we are falling short. I am left questioning what our government is doing and why this critical issue remains unresolved.

Traveling girls drop in

Posted on by
Reply

A girl named Erin from Colorado reached out to me to arrange a meeting in Varanasi. She was a friend of Krista, with whom I had previously worked. Erin came with her friend Katerina, who was from Czechoslovakia. Erin was a social activist working with an NGO focused on homelessness, while Katerina was a student. They wanted to stay at my place as paying guests, but I couldn’t accommodate them due to ongoing renovation work. Instead, they stayed at a guest house near Shivala Ghat.

The owner of the guest house brought them to my place to introduce them. Erin and Katerina were interested in taking a boat ride on the Ganges, and the guest house owner quoted them a very high price. I managed to arrange a boat ride for them at a fraction of that cost—five times less, in fact. Erin had brought a bottle of whiskey as a gift for the guest house owner, but he was upset that they had asked me for help instead of him. He refused to accept the whiskey, telling Erin to give it to me because he considered me a better friend. It was clear he was very displeased with me, and I decided it was best not to meet him again.

Eventually, Erin moved to a different guest house closer to my home. We explored Varanasi together, enjoyed my friend’s wedding, and used the whiskey that Erin had bought to gift the previous guest house owner. Roli did henna work on their hands, and Bunti helped them dress in sarees. They looked beautiful and embraced the local culture, dancing a lot at Babalu’s wedding party. I advised them to return to their hotel before it got too late for their safety. However, when we returned around midnight, the hotel gate was locked, and no one responded to our knocks.

With no other options, I invited them to stay at my house. Although my house wasn’t ideally set up for guests at the time, it was the only solution. They stayed at my place for the night, and we continued to explore Varanasi together. Erin later left for Amritsar alone, while Katerina stayed behind but never reached out to me again. I’m not sure where she went after that.