The Gorgeous Ganges
VARANASI- It is probably one of the oldest existing cities in the world. This city always fascinated me. There are many in India, which are bigger and offer so much, yet a visit to Varanasi was always my dream. May be because of Ganges, the serene and gentle or tempestuous river passing through its banks. There are yet again many rivers in the world that are bigger and in our country itself, some others are much longer, but none of them surpass the character of an adorable attraction as this river. Thousands of pilgrims who go there believe that an immersion in its sanctified waters has the power to wash away their sins and liberate. It is said that every alternate person in this world is a sinner, and may be I am one among them- but I had not an opportunity to visit this city to sanctify myself. But my landlady gave me such an opportunity! I am a smalltime employee in a small office with a meager monthly salary with which I should support my wife and two children. I could not afford more than two square meals a day for my family and schooling for my children in a government school and not for other luxuries which remained only a dream and fantasy. I was staying in a small portion of a house with three rooms in a row, one of which was used as kitchen-cum-dining, the middle one as my bed room and the front one was a children�s study, bed and our common drawing room. In the other portion similar to that of mine our landlady stayed. But that was big enough for her. She was alone and aged 80+ years and still going strong with her teeth in tact and attending to her daily routine all by her self, including cooking and washing the utensils, sweeping and mopping the floor etc. �Why don�t you engage a maid servant?� My wife frequently asked her. �I don�t believe any one� was her straight, immediate and constant reply. She appeared to have not believed any one except my wife and me. We have been living in this portion for four years and she never asked for rise in monthly rent. My service to her was only to help pay the monthly power bills, occasional banking. I was happy and she too. We wondered as to what had happened to her family and children. We learnt that her husband died more than 40 years back and her only son who was married left his wife because she didn�t bear children for him and also suspecting her fidelity and character. It was rumored that he committed suicide and the fact has not been confirmed. She was not comfortable when the topic of her son cropped up. Her only pastime was going out occasionally for small stroll. We never observed any one having ever visited her. On an early morning, I woke up with a loud shout from my wife to inform me that our landlady died. I rushed to her bedroom where she laid to rest. I was dazed, not at her sudden demise but what would be in store for me at this juncture and to whom I should inform or report. I was only a tenant in her house. But my fears were short lived and she had relieved me from my anxiety. There was an old trunk suite case at her bedside wide open and there was a letter apparently visible and addressed to me on top of her clothes. With unease I picked up the letter and read with my lips drying up. � I realize that my final day had come. By the time you open this letter, I will be in a deep sleep and never to wake up. I know that no one except you would open this. My only son might have died-or did he die at all? I was born only to suffer in isolation and lead a turbulent life. Now, I have no one to cremate me and I am keeping this burden upon you. I left instructions to my bank that the entire amount lying to my credit be transferred to an old age home. You may stay in my house for another five years by which time I wish you would rise up and have a shelter of your own and I bless you and pray God for it. Subsequently this also goes to the same old age home. My only last wish remains that after cremation, my ashes be spread over in Ganges in Varanasi on the 21st instant, which is auspicious for me. You need not incur expenditure over that. I have kept substantial amount in a cover in that trunk. You may use that�� * 20th December, The Ganga-Kaveri express arrived at Varanasi railway station by 7 am, � hour behind scheduled time. It was very cold and beyond my endurance though I was in winter clothing. I alighted from the train and found that the platforms were seething with unusual crowd. It was an assorted crowd from all parts of the country and also international tourists including stray groups of hippies. But it was not a happy crowd and uneasiness was apparent in their faces. The reason was quite obvious. There were incessant announcements in the public address system that the passengers from the railway station were refrained from venturing out as there was a curfew clamped from 5am for 24 hours in the entire city and shoot at sight orders were issued in some areas. Why was it so? Instantaneously I learnt that there were communal clashes and consequential police firing the previous night resulting in loss of considerable human lives and the situation remained tense. Again I was dazed. After all I had chosen a wrong time for my visit- Was it a wrong time? I was wondering. �And which would be a safer time?� In that heavy crowd I turned back and found a fair complexioned Sanyasi with saffron clothes and gold rimmed spectacles with a gray long hair at the back of his head and equal length of graybeard. I saw this Sanyasi at Allahabad in my railway compartment in the wee hours when he was coming out of the toilet. �How could he know what was in my mind!� �Are you alone?� He asked. �Yes� I said �For Darshan of the lord?� �Yes� I was carrying only a small brief case and a small container separately. I walked to the restaurant to have my first cup of coffee of the day. There was a heavy crowd in the restaurant too. The Sanyasi also tailed me and offered unsolicited help in getting me a cup of coffee from the counter. �Why don�t you have one?� I asked �I don�t take coffee� We have come out and I was wondering as to how long I should stay almost standing in that crowd. The waiting room was also crowded. �How long do you keep standing? sit on your briefcase� With half mind, I sat on the brief case, as there was no alternative. He also sat before me on the plain floor of the platform. �The tensions would ease out by evening, and we should put up with the inconvenience for quite some time. After all, I have witnessed such human madness in some form or the other every where I went, whether it be Haridwar or Rameswaram far south. I am used to it� �Where do you live?� I asked because I should spend time and it would be interesting to get in touch with a Sanyasi who had renounced this materialistic world and to learn from his angle. �I have no particular choice, every spiritual place is mine, my first preference is Varanasi where I spend most of my time.� Suddenly there were loud noises out side the railway station and sirens of the police vehicles were heard. I was frightened and said �Such things are happening at every length and breadth of the country round the year and no one is safe at any given time�. �Yes, in spite of being in close proximity to God, we are witnessing the legitimization of such lunatic fringe. These communal elements have come into their own, taking law into their own hands, secure in the knowledge that no one can touch them as they set about smashing every aspect of civilization. This is a city where the pulse of eternity throbs to the rhythm of ancient culture. It embodies the spiritual soul of India and the Ganges the holiest river passes through and if this place is not safe, which one else?� He continued with emotion, �People come here to obviate their miseries and to find solace in the lap of Mother Ganges, but disappointed often. You have witnessed today as to what had happened. This is not the end and the madness goes on and on. If it is not a communal problem, there will be a savage and bloody caste riot some where and surcharged with emotion, the fever spreads very fast and they go to the streets everywhere and indulge in brutal hooliganism. They have this unerring capability to turn any tragedy, however serious it may be, to grist and to the mill and finally every death and misery ends up in yet another political rhetoric.� �Why does God permit such insane gang and gangland here?� �He has not permitted. On the other hand they have permitted Him to stay on. I told you, the law is in their hands including the religious law. If need be they are capable of driving Him out of His abode.� The Sanysi appeared to be a well-learned person and so I began calling him �Swamiji�. �Swamiji, I read that the communal clashes and resultant deaths in Varanasi are high when compared to other cities, why?� The Swamiji smiled and with a lighter vein, said, �may be this is a city, which celebrates death as no other city in India does. To die in Varanasi, and to be cremated here on the banks of the Ganga, is to be absolved of karma, freed from the wheel of reincarnation and absorbed into the Infinite.� �But who will cremate them who died over there outside� �The Ganges will absorb them! By the way where do you come from?� Abruptly he changed the subject. �Hyderabad� �Ah! I visited that city quite often.� He said as a matter of fact manner. In few minutes that followed he got my entire personal information with his charming conversation. 21st December, This was the day on which my landlady desired that her ashes be spread over the Ganges. To my pleasant relief the curfew was relaxed from 5 am around the railway station and adjoining areas of the temple. Though I was confined to the railway station for a whole day, I didn�t regret because of the learned company of the Swamiji. I was hurrying to the temple so that I can have a quick Darshan of God and subsequently attend to the purpose for which I visited the city. �Don�t be in a hurry. I will come with you, and finally after completing your obligations you can come with me to the Ashram where I stay.� Swamiji said. I engaged a cycle rickshaw and he sat besides me with out waiting for my consent or reply. Though the curfew was relaxed the streets were still deserted, except for some blind beggars singing plaintively on either side of the road and only the pilgrims and the tourists were seen hurrying towards the ghats and the temple. In another 1/2hour we were at the vicinity of the temple. I was about to stop the rickshaw driver at the narrow entrance road to the temple. But Swamiji said, �No, not now, first you should go to the Manikarnika burning ghat. Fulfil the desire of your poor old landlady, and then go to the main Dasaswamedh ghat, take a holy dip, and from the austerity of death you should step into the pious sanctum sanctorum.� I nodded willingly and followed the Swamiji to proceed to the Manikarnika burning ghat. It was still not bright and at that somber ghat, firewood fires were glowing with Grey smoke smudging the sky. The members of the families of the dead surrounded the pyres, and the chanting was mixed up and inaudible. �You see, there is no weeping here, as this would retard the soul in its journey to fuse with the Ultimate.� Swamiji said and continued �The ashes of the your old landlady will now be scattered onto the holy waters of the Ganges.� I was about to open the container in which I brought the ashes of my dear old landlady. The Swamiji said all of a sudden, �Will you do me a favor?� I wondered what a Swamiji would seek of me. �You have come here to fulfill the last wish of an old lady who was not your mother. I have renounced this material world long back. Yet, I realize that I have also come out of certain mother�s womb. And having lived in this holy city for long, watching innumerable persons coming here to fulfill the last wishes of their near and dear, there is a dormant desire in me that I pay my respects to a departed mother. Will you allow me to sprinkle those ashes into the river?� I was surprised at such a wish coming out deep from the heart of a Sanyasi. He went few steps higher at the ghat, disrobed from his saffron clothes and rushed to me. With out waiting for my consent, he almost grabbed the container, opened it and chanting some �slokas�, he strewed the ashes into the Gorgeous Ganges! For me, Varanasi always remains unforgettable and a bewildering place. __________________
Copyright © 2001 Sreenivasa Murthy Govindaraju |