1/30/06 Crack of Dawn: Living and Dying in Varanasi

Night out Varanasi was memorable, but Varanasi at dawn is also unforgettable. At 6 am, heads were being shaved, beggars were in full assault mode, 7 year-olds were hawking flowers, and gurus were dispensing blessings and words of wisdom. We also passed scores of pilgrims already returning from their ritual baths in the dangerously polluted (1.5 mm parts per million…500 is considered safe) waters of the Ganga. Krishna and Sunny filled our already overloaded hard-headed drives with commentary, while a sweet 7-year-old named Kavita, provided us with floating marigold and candle offerings and a friendly smile for our dawn trip down the Ganges. Along the banks, more were bathing and swimming in the murky waters, praying to Shiva, preparing corpses for cremation, and basking in the glow of a picture-perfect sunrise against the ghats, temples, and palaces. Further downstream, human washing machines pounded soiled sarees into submission, while upstream families prepared corpses for the pyres in their Sunday best with sweets in hand, having saved up more than $500 to pay the Brahmin priest, woodcutter, and mortician (almost a year’s worth of per capita GDP). The cycle of life was in full gear, a scene more moving than anything Hollywood or Bollywood could ever dream of producing.