Dialysis in Varanasi

An American student from Boston University, named Andrew, reached out to me regarding his friend Rinat from Uzbekistan, who requires dialysis treatment in India for six months. They had initially contacted Apollo Hospital in Delhi, but found it to be quite expensive and also noted that Delhi’s pollution made it an undesirable option. There were no available apartments near the hospital either. They inquired about dialysis services in Varanasi, and I directed them to Heritage Hospital in Varanasi by providing their email address. Andrew and Rinat contacted Heritage Hospital and discovered that they offer dialysis services for foreigners as well.

I visited Heritage Hospital to inquire about their services and charges. The costs were as follows: Rs. 2500 for the first dialysis, Rs. 1000 for a blood check-up (charged only once), Rs. 1700 for each of the next three dialysis sessions, and Rs. 2500 for the fifth session. This was significantly cheaper than Apollo Hospital, and Varanasi is less noisy and polluted compared to Delhi. Andrew then requested to rent my apartment for six months for Rinat. However, I had reservations about hosting someone who does not speak English and only speaks Russian.

I expressed my concern about the language barrier, but Andrew assured me that they would provide a translator for the first week. I was still concerned about the situation beyond that initial period. I asked about Rinat’s current health and learned that he has only one kidney and very low hemoglobin levels—one-third of the normal range. This situation was worrying, as Rinat’s condition seemed quite critical. They also requested that I contact the Indian Embassy in Tashkent to notify them that I would be hosting Rinat. I was uncomfortable with this, as it would make me responsible if anything went wrong with Rinat’s health.

To better understand the situation, I consulted friends in the US and Canada. While they knew people with only one kidney, they were also concerned about Rinat’s low hemoglobin levels. After discussing with my friends and family, I decided not to host Rinat due to the serious nature of his condition. However, I still wanted to assist Andrew and Rinat. I offered to help by finding a guest house for Rinat, accompanying him to the hospital, speaking with doctors, arranging food and other necessities, and showing them around. They agreed to this arrangement. I have requested them to fax me all of Rinat’s medical reports so that I can discuss his treatment with the doctors.

They want to hire me to assist Rinat throughout his stay. I will meet Rinat in Delhi and bring him to Varanasi. I’ve reached out to students at BHU to find a Russian-speaking student to serve as Rinat’s translator. Additionally, Andrew wants Rinat to learn Hindi while he is in Varanasi, so I have contacted Bhasha Bharti to inquire about a Russian-speaking Hindi teacher and am awaiting their reply. This is proving to be a challenging task, but I am committed to helping in any way I can.

Italian guest visits Aghori society

I worked with an Italian named Giona Peduzzi, who initially contacted me through Couchsurfing to arrange a meeting for a drink. After a series of emails discussing his tour of India, he asked me to plan his visit to Varanasi. Giona lives in Rome and works for Channel 5, Italy’s largest private TV channel, as a show designer and writer for two Saturday night shows. Giona arrived in Varanasi on August 6th and stayed until August 9th. I arranged his accommodation at my guest house.

During his visit, we explored various sites including Mother Teresa’s Home, an Aghor monastery, Mathas (places where people reside while awaiting death), Sarnath, Tulsi Manas Temple, Sankat Mochan Temple (the monkey temple), BHU, Durga Temple (in Ram Nagar), and we also met Lali Baba. Giona was particularly impressed by the people he met. One memorable visit was to Machali Bandar Math, where we spoke with a Sadhu who had been residing there for over 30 years, waiting for his death. Giona was astonished by this dedication, though it was less surprising to me given my previous experiences working with Sophia, an anthropology student from the University of Berlin.

Lali Baba left a significant impression on Giona. He found Lali Baba to be the most fascinating character he had ever encountered, especially captivated by his elaborate attire for the evening Aarti, his garlands and skulls, and even seeing Lali Baba using a computer to chat. We also visited Mother Teresa’s Home. Although I have mixed feelings about going there—feeling both compelled to help but finding it emotionally challenging due to the many mentally and physically ill individuals—I still find it important to visit. I suggested providing a television for the patients’ entertainment, but the Nun declined, explaining that they had never used one before and preferred to maintain their current approach.

At the Aghor monastery, Giona was surprised by their Guinness World Record certificate for treating the most leprosy patients in the world. I have a great appreciation for this place and visit their hospital every time I am in town. Giona expressed interest in visiting Bodh Gaya for a day and then heading to Mumbai. He wanted to experience a film or TV serial shooting in Mumbai. I reached out to Yogesh, a production manager in Bollywood, who agreed to show Giona around Film City. I hope Giona enjoys his time in Mumbai with Yogesh.

I and Giona

Tawayaf culture in Varanasi

An anthropology student from the University of Pittsburgh, USA, named Megan contacted me recently. She was referred by my friend Adam Sergent, an anthropology student from the University of Chicago, who had stayed at my guest house a month ago while learning Hindi in Varanasi. Megan is currently in her fourth year of research, focusing on Tawayaf culture, sex work, and HIV. Adam had mentioned my NGO to her, and she was interested in learning about my experiences working with these issues. I was intrigued by her interest in Tawayaf culture; while I had some knowledge about them, I hadn’t delved deeply into their world before.

This has sparked my curiosity, and I plan to research more about them. Megan mentioned that she was already collaborating with an NGO in Varanasi that works with sex workers but wanted to expand her contacts to other cities as well. I provided her with information about a few NGOs in Azamgarh and Mau that I am familiar with. She also requested a written document confirming her work with sex workers, Tawayafs, and HIV in Varanasi, which she needs to secure funding from her university. I will consult with my legal advisor to see if I can assist her with this request.

We had an extensive discussion about our respective experiences, and we’ve agreed to collaborate in the future. I’m looking forward to working together and supporting her important research.

Purification in Varanasi

I encountered a group of more than 15 French tourists on a train recently, and I was struck by the sight of so many of them with freshly shaved heads. Most of them were quite young, and it seemed unusual to see so many bald heads together. Curious, I asked one of them why they had chosen to shave their heads, and they explained that it was part of a ritual for purification. They mentioned that they were aware of the tradition where many Indian pilgrims shave their heads when they visit Varanasi, and they decided to partake in this practice themselves.

When I asked if they felt purified, they described a sense of amazing happiness, inner peace, and a release from stress. Despite their enthusiasm, they seemed to have a limited understanding of the reasons behind the practice, only noting that it was done for purification. I inquired where they had their hair shaved and learned that it was done at Dashashwamedh Ghat. I personally would avoid getting my hair shaved there, as I’ve found that the barbers at the ghats don’t always maintain the highest hygiene standards. While their razors are changed frequently, the actual razors aren’t always properly cleaned, which is concerning.

I used to think that Westerners were very particular about hygiene, but this experience made me question that assumption. It was quite a sight to see this group, and as we parted ways, I commented to the girl I was speaking with, “You are very brave, and you have a lot of brave people with you.” Whether or not they truly felt purified, I was intrigued by their experience. If I were to consider such a ritual, I would certainly bring my own razor to ensure proper hygiene, rather than relying on the ghats’ barbers.

Kamasutra

While waiting for my train at Delhi railway station, I met an intriguing 85-year-old man named Lance Dane. I had arrived at the station about two hours before my train’s departure, and Lance took a seat next to me. We struck up a conversation, and I was fascinated to learn that he was a specialist in coins and had authored over 40 books on the Kamasutra. His father was Indian, his mother British, and he was born in South India. He grew up in India and speaks fluent Kannada and Hindi. It was remarkable to meet someone with such expertise in Kamasutra.

Curious, I asked him many questions about the Kamasutra. He explained that the Kamasutra temples are not just about depicting various sexual positions but encompass a comprehensive view of human life. This matched what my brother had previously told me, and it reinforced my understanding. Lance shared detailed information about different Kamasutra temples across India. He also discussed the Nepali temple in Varanasi, which features some Kamasutra sculptures. According to him, this temple is relatively new and has been influenced by the Kamasutra temples in South India and Khajuraho.

Lance was traveling to Varanasi to attend a conference on the Art and Archaeology of Kashi (Varanasi), where he was invited as a chief guest. I expressed my interest in the conference, and he kindly extended an invitation to me. He took my mobile number and promised to call me the next morning. True to his word, he called after reaching Varanasi to confirm the invitation. It was a wonderful opportunity to learn so much about my own city from someone with such deep knowledge.

Interview with Musahars in the village

During my time working for the Financial Times in Varanasi, I had the opportunity to spend time with the Musahar community, a group still considered untouchable in Indian society. Traditionally, Musahars are known for collecting and making bowls from Pipal leaves, a craft that has become increasingly obsolete as plastic bowls have replaced their traditional products. We visited a Mushahar village near Mehndiganj, Varanasi. The village consisted of simple clay huts, and the interviewee was a 24-year-old married woman whose husband worked as a rickshaw driver.

The family of six included her husband, father-in-law, mother-in-law, and two daughters. Despite their dire economic situation, none of their daughters attended school. Her husband earned only Rs. 25 (50 cents USD) per day, and due to their caste, no one in the local community wanted to ride in his rickshaw. During the harvest season, Mushahars get some temporary work cutting grains on other people’s land. Ironically, while they cut and handle the grains that others eat, they are not allowed to sit on the same rickshaw or access the same resources due to their caste.

Their payment for this labor is often in the form of grains rather than cash. They typically receive around 150 kgs of grains per year, valued at Rs. 2000 ($50), which is not enough to sustain a family. The traditional occupation of making leaf bowls has lost its significance due to the widespread use of plastic, further impacting the Mushahar community’s income. Although this practice persists in smaller towns, cities like Varanasi are slowly abandoning it. During the interview, the interviewer was shocked by the family’s meager income and gave Rs. 500 to the interviewee as a gesture of empathy.

The local guide suggested distributing the money among the villagers. However, this led to a heated argument among the community members. The interviewee insisted on keeping the initial Rs. 500 for herself, while the villagers argued that it should be shared. The situation escalated into a conflict, and we had to leave quickly to avoid further violence. The village had only a hand pump and a well for water, both of which often dried up during the summer. Being near a Coca-Cola plant, they faced significant water scarcity issues. The local people, aware of their caste, would not allow them to use their water resources. As a result, the women of the Mushahar community, who are responsible for fetching water, had to walk 2-3 kilometers daily to get water.

When we arrived, the villagers brought out a Khatia (a rope bed) for us to sit on. However, when they asked about my caste and learned that I am a Brahmin, they refused to sit with me due to the caste differences.

Bhang and the train thief

During the month of Savan, a significant pilgrimage period in Varanasi, many pilgrims, known as Kavariyas, visit the city. They wear orange attire and carry sticks with pots of Ganges water as part of their ritual. About 7-8 years ago, a notable incident occurred involving a 10-year-old Kavariya. Early in the morning, around 4 AM, this young boy, who had consumed bhang (a traditional cannabis preparation), took control of a train at Banaras railway station. The train was scheduled to depart at 6 AM, and its drivers had left the engine running while they went for tea on the platform.

Government authorised bhang shop in Varanasi

Government authorized bhang shop in Varanasi

The Kavariya, under the influence of bhang, climbed into the driver’s cab and started the train in reverse. Without any knowledge of train operations, he drove the train in the opposite direction—from Gorakhpur to Allahabad, instead of the intended route. The train, which was meant to travel at a much slower pace, was speeding at 120 km/h, ignoring track conditions and speed limits. The situation quickly escalated as other trains were halted and media attention grew. The boy, who appeared to be enjoying the attention, continued driving the train while smiling and greeting onlookers.

 

Bhang balls

Bhang balls

 

Eventually, the railway authorities decided to derail the train to stop it. They placed sandbags on the tracks and used track brakes to bring the train to a halt. Fortunately, the boy was unharmed in the incident. The train fell but did not result in any injuries. The boy was arrested, and the train drivers, who had left the engine unattended, were dismissed from their positions. The official explanation from the government was that the boy was mentally unwell, but many believed that his actions were a direct result of being under the influence of bhang. The general consensus was that the drivers’ negligence contributed significantly to the incident.

End of life – Sadhus and Sanyasis

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.

Case Against Ministry of Tourism

After a year of waiting for the results of the tour guide examination, a group of us applicants decided to take legal action against the Ministry of Tourism for not declaring the results. I learned about this development from my elder brother and went to Delhi to meet with the advocate handling the case in the Delhi High Court. The advocate requested my birth certificate and a copy of the admit card for the examination. At the advocate’s office, I met over 20 other applicants who were also part of this case. Most of them were from Rajasthan and Agra; I believe I was the only one from Varanasi.

The advocate mentioned that the case would be resolved within a maximum of 10 days, which seemed optimistic given the vast number of pending cases in India—approximately 40 million, meaning one in three people is involved in some kind of legal matter. This lawsuit was the fourth case concerning this exam, and it’s unclear why the government hasn’t acted. They should issue licenses to everyone and let the market determine who is competent. There are very few government guides, and they often lack proper interviews or evaluations. As a result, they are hired without assessing their actual knowledge or skills.

In many cases, travel agencies hire both a licensed government guide and a private, unlicensed guide. The private guide typically interacts with clients while the government guide’s role is minimal—often just to act as a backup or to handle any potential police inquiries. Government guides are often seen chewing betel leaves (paan) and remaining passive, with their primary function being to support the private guide and deal with any legal issues that arise.

Who are Aghoris

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.