cadman342001
Offline
• • • • •
Upload & Sell: Off
|
Thanks for the likes and the positive comments, here are the last ones from Varanasi.
The subject matter here is a sensitive one and you may wish to move along and not view them as they are of the funeral pyres.
Here are some thoughts and background from an article in the Malta Independent website of all places ! It's what was described to us by an unofficial guide as he showed us the piles of wood that families buy for their loved ones cremation and the Eternal Flame of Benares that has burned for 4000 years and used for lighting the pyres.
A bit of a read but I recommend it as it will give you the low down on exactly why Varanasi is such a special place, both for Hindus and for travellers / toursists.
"Varanasi is the city of the dead and the dying, the abode of Lord Shiva – the annihilator and destroyer. It promises moksa (liberation) from the cycle of birth and death to anybody who leaves his body here and cremated on the banks of the holy river Ganges. Although cremation occurs throughout India, especially all along the Ganges, many sick or elderly people from all over the subcontinent come here to await their end.
Certainly the stark encounter with life and death, so pronounced on the ghats, contributes greatly to why Varanasi feels so intense. Along the way, India has taught me so much about the realities of life... and indeed death is one such reality – all who live must die, it is the harsh truth. Everything must pass. While everything around us is dying we think it will never happen to us – that is man's greatest madness according to the great epic, the Mahabharata.
I stand a little distance away from the enclosure in which eight bonfires are burning and another ten or so are in the process of being cleaned away or set up. Oddly, a little puppy is playing within the cremation grounds while a goat and a cow are sniffing about for food but nobody seems to mind. The wind blows some ash in my direction and I stare at it landing on my skin. The place smells just like barbeque.
My senses are in over-ride to the extent that I almost feel numb and I find it hard to concentrate on what this man is telling me while I am taking in all the activity, the sights, sounds and smells. There is a powerful, somewhat ominous energy hanging over Omanikarnika Ghat, “the burning ghat.” A couple of shady looking characters are lurking around me, trying to look friendly and give information but no doubt conceiving a way to obtain a “donation for the dying.”
Somehow I am able to follow what is going on. It transpires that each state has its own traditions regarding the cremation ritual and no local rules are imposed. Generally the oldest son is the one to set the body alight. His hair is shaved, he bathes in the Ganges and wears white cloth. Wood is purchased while the body is carried by four people to the river, bathed and smeared in sandal paste, ghee and other balms, wrapped in white linen and sometimes gold cloth.
The body is placed within the wood-pile which has been set up in the appropriate cremation area according to caste: the banks where I stand belong to the lowest caste, the Untouchables. Next further up is for the middle castes, and further up on a roof-top is the cremation area for the high caste, the Brahmins. Apparantly, during the wet season the river swallows up the banks so all, regardless of caste, use the highest burning ground.
The male member of the family who will perform the fire lighting goes to the 'eternal flame.' This is the fire from which all bonfires are started, said to never have stopped burning since 5,000 years. It is not too hard to believe since Varanasi's beginnings are truly ancient while the cremations go on at the burning ghat all day and all night, all the year round, without ever pausing.
A bald man wearing a white dhoti emerges from the building housing the 'eternal flame' and proceeds to turn clockwise around the body five times. He finally holds the smouldering long, dry grass hosting a bit of red-hot charcoal to the feet-end of the wood-pile and the fire slowly begins. Within minutes, flames are swallowing the body to the accompanying sound of creaking bone. For about three hours the fire will be tended to by the “Dom”, the untouchables who have the most exalted job.
There are no women in sight, only tourist women. It turns out that women are simply not allowed, because they get too emotional! Some say that crying captures the soul and does not allow it to merge with Brahman , but that is only part of the story. In the past, some have been so crazed by grief that they threw themselves into the husband's crematory fires. Some would add that back then, such a bleak future prospect existed for the widow within society that many considered death a better option.
Finally, some bones are placed in the holy Ganges, and water taken in a clay pot to put the fire out. Four times this is done facing the fire while the fifth and final time the clay pot with water is thrown over the left shoulder. This marks the putting out of the fire and the family member must leave the area without looking back.
At the next ghat, family members and friends interact for a while and make sweet offerings then finally go home. I am told that after about thirteen days, they will throw a huge party for all !"
- by Melanie Drury
Andy
|
