Previous to my arrival in the city of Varanasi I had never seen a dead body in person. My first encounter with a corpse was so blatantly casual, I had to stop and register what had just occurred. It happened quite quickly; as my group struggled up the crowded street, under the flickering lights of the Diwali festival, I saw a group of 4 men, hurriedly carrying (what I thought) was a bundle of cloth propped on bamboo planks. As they passed by me I saw what hid under the shining gold, and red fabric was the form of a wrinkled face and body, obviously deceased. I stopped to stare, and turned to watch as they disappeared into the night. A feeling of confusion, and anxiety bubbled up inside of me, and I around looked to see the rest of the public’s reactions. Nobody else paid the body any mind. Joyous laughter, festival activities, and night life continued on for the people of Varanasi.
The following day, as our boat drifted down the brown, murky, waters of the Ganges, we were privileged enough to witness the aftermath of one of the cremations in the burning ghats. The scene is still seared into my memory. Before me was a blackened stone platform that rose above the lapping river, lined with piles of wood for burning bodies, and speckled with funeral workers who piled the remains of the burnt corpses into a large, flaky pile. It was completely exposed to the tourists, and various other groups boating down the Ganges. As we walked along the burning area, we could make out the ivory white remains, of a skeleton, partially buried under the ash. It almost felt inappropriate to look upon the bones, yet I stared anyway, both in a sort of wonder and disgust.
In America, death is a very private matter. Burials are held far from the public eye, as well as cremations. Not only are they concealed, but they are also somber events. American funerals are usually experiences of intense grieving, rather than happy ones. Hindu funerals are just the opposite. What our guide told us, changed my perspective on the openness of these funerals. He reminded us as the body burned, relatives would gather around, laughing, and rejoicing the life of their loved one. This an attempt to gain a comfortable transition into Moksha, the transcendent state of salvation, by entering the holy waters of the Ganges river. This event was about breaking their cycle of rebirth, and entering into a peaceful eternity, without the process of rebirth. They left their crying and sadness for home, so their loved ones could gain peace.
Seeing the corpse, as well as the bones, and ash remains of the various people from the ghats was shocking, and stirred up my own personal fear of death. Yet, through all this culture shock and fear, I have a respect and understanding of their practices. Death is a common occurrence, and it is the imminent end for all of us. As we learned in our Buddhist dharma talks, every single thing is impermanent. So no matter how we go, or where we are put after, we should make the best with what we have now.