I sat in the fading light transfixed by what was happening
in front of me.
My eyes must have shone with the reflective powers of the
burning fires.
The heat from the blaze kept the flies away but not the stray dogs, goats and lumbering bony cows that wander past or deposit themselves on the ground haphazardly next to you.
What I was watching was a melting pot of emotions and
reasoning. The fact of the matter was though that I could not turn my eyes from
the fires or even contemplate leaving.
I sat on a concrete step next to a quizzical looking goat
and stared into the flames.
These flames in particular were on the banks of the sacred
Ganges River in the city of Varanasi.
Varanasi in Uttar Pradesh is the Holiest city on the Ganges
and also possibly one of the most polluted.
Woman ready for the depth of the Ganges. Harishchandra Ghat |
Once you are away from the city centre and the madness that
are Indian roads you are struck by a relative serenity by the banks of the sacred
river.
The Ganges flow along and every inch of the way stone steps
lead down into its waters so that Hindu’s can perform a Puju where they rinse
themselves and carry out early morning ablutions.
I on the other hand dipped a hand and feet into the waters
as in many places it is riddled with excrement, rubbish and floating goats
corpses. This however does not perturb many from drinking the waters as they
are said to have healing powers.
The stone ghats look in places majestic, rustic and almost quintessentially
like a piece of Victorian England with an added Eastern feel.
![]() |
Manikarnika Ghat |
However two Ghats stand out from the others. For one striking
reason.
These are funeral Ghats. Harishchandra and Manikarnika Ghats
are the two places in the city where bodies are cremated on the banks of the river
24 hours a day.
They are easy to spot with the constant stream of smoke
rising and the gaggle of people milling around.
You at first cannot stand and watch without people claiming
to own the place or work there and demanding money. After a while of stern ‘bugger
offs’ you are left in peace and can sit with the locals and watch the funerals.
It may sound morbid and even disgusting to some but I was
lost in the flames of death.
Manikarnika Ghat is the larger of the two with several
funeral pyres burning all at once. This is exclusively for Hindu’s and is
incredibly crowded with people, cows, dogs and boats galore.
Harishchandra Ghat is a little smaller and there you can sit
without too much hassle and watch the proceedings.
What I learnt was interesting and eye opening on Indian
culture.
Harishchandra Ghat is not only for Hindu’s but anyone who
wants to be cremated here. Of course you have had to die in the city to be
cremated here. Normally it is 7 hours after death that you are cremated.
Anyone can be cremated here publically unless you are one of
the following:
A leprosy sufferer (you have suffered enough and
are therefore pure)
·
A pregnant lady
·
A child
·
A Brahmin holy man
·
Died by a snake bite
These people are considered pure and are therefore not
burnt.
They are wrapped in cloth, tied to a stone and taken out
into the Ganges in front of the Ghat and dumped into the river.
![]() |
Funeral pyres at night. Harichchandra Ghat |
I watched as a woman wrapped in orange and gold was rowed
out about 100 yards where she was tipped head first with a plop into the river.
I also saw a small baby wrapped in white (white for males) then covered in red
henna.
He was rowed out a little way where two children unceremoniously
dropped him over the side. No prayers, no ritual, just another part of life.
I sat looking at the flames as five bodies burnt at the
Harishchandra Ghat. My mind was blank as I soaked up the atmosphere like a
sponge.
I watched as bodies were carried out and placed on the pyres.
Before they are put on the pyre they are placed in the
Ganges and given one last drink.
Then it’s on the pyre where logs are piled up high on top.
India has a caste system where you are born into your class.
This can dictate what jobs and place in society you have.
Therefore the higher up the ladder you are the further from
the river bank you are. If you are a Maharaja for example you can be cremated
on a giant plinth that remained at this time empty.
One pyre was so close to the river that the little ripples
lapped at the logs.
The one I sat directly looking at was further up and
therefore this person was from a higher caste.
The man wrapped in white cloth was covered in logs and a
fire was set underneath.
The twigs and kindling crackles and soon the fire had set
hold.
I was mesmerised watching it. In a morbid fascination sort
of way but also in a cultural understanding way.
I sat for ages watching as at first the cloth burnt away
revealing a hollow face where the skin had melted. A skeletal arm fell from the
fire and was soon prodded back by a stick and soon you heard a pop and guts
fell from the side into the fire and instantly changed colour.
All the while the feet remained intact and unaffected.
Protruding out of the pyre. As the body started to collapse into itself the
feet became blistered and blackened and then disappeared into the flames.
All the while goats wandered and nibbled at rubbish and the
embers of pyres that had burnt out.
People sifted through the ashes looking for gold teeth or
jewellery.
Baby ready for his Ganges burial |
The entire experience was emotionless. Only once did I see
one can start to cry and we was swiftly taken away.
It is a part of life. One that may make people’s eye open
wider and other hurry away from the scene.
But for me I felt I had seen a part of Indian culture and
life that many people who pass through would never see.
I sat until the embers were black and the smoke from the
other pyres hurt my eyes.
I left feeling peaceful and having a new perspective on
mortality.
sfs
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