The Ganga asked: Where do I wash my sins?
The cremation ground was right on the banks of the Ganga, as scary as it was big. There were no settlements nearby. As far as one could see, the massive expanse of the sand stretched into the distance, only broken by one or two date palms or some thorny bushes.
There was a shack right in the middle of the cremation ground. It could be used for shelter in case of rains or a storm, or just to rest. However, people believed that the hut was inhabited by ghosts and were afraid to enter it even in broad daylight.
But Raju did not worry about such things. He went straight into the shack. Sharat followed him but was shaking with fear. Raju put the corpse on the ground and said, 바카라I haven바카라t smoked a beedi for quite a while, let me light one.바카라
Suddenly, a voice came from the dark: 바카라Will you give one to me too?바카라
Sharat바카라s hair stood on end and he broke into a sweat. Raju asked, 바카라Who is there?바카라 and struck a match to look around. He saw a man lying on a dirty bed nearby, covered in a quilt.
바카라Who are you?바카라
바카라I am a Ganga yatri (pilgrim).바카라
Upon looking closely, they saw that an old man, aged around 80, was lying under the quilt. When Raju handed him the beedi, the old man puffed on it as if he had been given a new lease of life.
He said, 바카라Son, you have saved me. I have been lying here for days, but even death has abandoned me. I was accompanied by two grandsons and a neighbour, but they are angry because I am not dying quickly enough. Today, they have gone out to see the yatra (pilgrimage). They say, 바카라We had brought him so he could die quickly, but he seems to be recovering by inhaling the fresh Ganga air.바카라 I don바카라t know what will happen to me, a Ganga yatri cannot go back.바카라
Raju replied, 바카라Why can바카라t he? You look fine. Where is your house? We will drop you there. Otherwise, those who have brought you here will strangle you to death.바카라 The old man said, 바카라Yes, my son, they keep threatening me and don바카라t know when they may just do that.바카라
(From Awara Masiha, a fictionalised biography of Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay by Vishnu Prabhakar)
The incident described here dates back around 125 years, from the lifetime of Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay. I often wondered how we could be so brutal towards our elderly. Then, one day, I got the opportunity to pass through the Rajendra bridge, built on the Simariya ghat (riverbank), around 110 km from Patna. As I looked down at the river, there were several huts made of straw spread around the vacant ghat. I was told that the huts belonged to people who had come there for kalpavaas (a month-long stay) by the riverbank.
The late journalist NK Thakur once told me about his childhood days in Darbhanga. 바카라I was a child and studied there. I was stunned when I came to know that people took their old parents to Simariya ghat for 바카라Ganga labh바카라 (salvation through the Ganga) and that some of them died there on their own and the others were drowned in the river by force. I do not know how true that was but we were told these stories,바카라 he said.
The incidents from Chattopadhyay바카라s life and Thakur바카라s anecdote were similar. The old question in my mind suddenly resurfaced.
It was a November morning, wet with dew. The sun had not risen yet. The first scene that caught my attention, while descending from the slope next to the bridge, was of some old women walking towards the Ganga, holding hands. There were innumerable small straw huts nearby. These women were coming out of the huts and heading to the river. In front of the huts, elderly men and women could be seen brushing their teeth with datoon (a fresh twig chewed into a brush). Another thing that grabbed my attention was that three generations were there together: a grandmother with her daughter and granddaughter. In front of some huts, people had made beds on the ground, where a few wilted tulsi (holy basil) plants grew.
In the distance, the Rajendra bridge rose above the mist, still as a painting바카라so light, so ephemeral, as if it would be erased just by running a hand over it. Below, the massive Ganga flowed as far as the eye could see. On the bank, in an area which must have been submerged earlier, remnants of Goddess Durga statues lay strewn about.
Before the bridge was built, people used to cross to the other side on steamers. Rabindranath Tagore is said to have travelled by the steamer here. In his book Char Adhyay (Four Chapters), it is here that the hero Ateen meets Ella, on a steamer.
The morning mist was slowly clearing up. In the brightening light, I started moving towards the Ganga along with the bathers. On my right, a very old man was walking with me. His stumbling feet, sinking into the sand, suddenly stopped. He stared at me for a while, with surprise and curiosity.
바카라Reporter!바카라
바카라Yes,바카라 I nodded.
바카라Have you come from far away?바카라
I started laughing,
바카라Have you come for Ganga labh?바카라
바카라Ganga labh is when people die here. That is a matter of good luck. I have come here for kalpavaas,바카라 he explained. 바카라People come to live here and bathe for the month of Kartika (October바카라November). Especially women from Mithila come here. Men, too, come, but in fewer in number.바카라 He leaves me and stumbles on, getting lost in the crowd. I stay back and try to stop an old man with a huge tilak (vermilion mark) on his forehead.
바카라Can you tell me something,바카라 I ask him. 바카라What?바카라 he squints at me.
바카라All of you have come here for this?바카라 I enquired.
바카라I am Vishwanath Purve. I have come here from Nepal바카라s Sikajoti village,바카라 he introduces himself. He says that every year around 10,000 people from Nepal come here for kalpavaas and moksha (salvation). He says, 바카라Listen, as per ancient beliefs, during three months of the year, Kartika, Magha (January바카라February) and Vaishakha (April바카라May), Lord Varuna resides in the water. During these months, if you take a dip in any water body, you attain Moksha and your sins are washed away. On top of that, this is the Ganga, divinity herself. Taking a dip in her washes away sins accumulated over many births. And if you die here, that becomes Ganga labh, a sure ticket to heaven.바카라
The sage Kapila had said the same thing to Anshuman, the son of king Sagar, 바카라Only the waters of the Ganga can redeem your burned
ancestors, there is no other solution.바카라 Anshuman was unable to make the Ganga appear. Bhagirath, his grandson, performed rigorous penance and pleased the Ganga. She told Bhagirath to ask for a boon. In response, he humbly asked her to come down to the Earth.
Ganga responded, 바카라When I descend from the heaven to Earth, there has to be someone to bear my force. Otherwise, I would descend to the netherworld. Moreover, another reason I should not come down to the Earth is because people would wash their sins in me but where would I wash my sins?바카라
Bhagirath answered, 바카라Mother, Lord Shiva, the protector of all living beings, will bear your force. And those who have given up the desires for this world or the next, be it wealth or a wife and son, those who have renounced the world and found peace within themselves, those who are devoted to the gods and make the world pure with their mere presence, such selfless people would erase your sins by touching you.바카라
Thereafter, Bhagirath pleased Lord Shiva with his prayers. Shiva carefully tempered Ganga바카라s descent by placing her on his head. Then Bhagirath took the Ganga to the place where the ashes of his ancestors lay. He rode a chariot as fast as the wind and the Ganga followed him rapidly, purifying everything that lay in her path. At the Ganga-Sagar sangam (confluence), she submerged the ashes of the burnt sons of the king. As soon as their remains were touched by her waters, they ascended to heaven. If Sagar바카라s sons could attain paradise just by their ashes being touched by the Ganga jal, imagine the blessings in store for those who take a dip with devotion in their hearts. This is how the myth fires the popular imagination.
Probably, this is the sentiment that has ,for centuries, driven people to visit the place to be free of their sins.
바카라If one dies here.바카라
바카라That only happens for the very fortunate,바카라 the old man was still there, immersed in his devotion to the Ganga. It is said that even Ram, Sita and Laxman had spent a night here by the Ganga when they were exiled to the forest. This was, and still is, the southernmost end of Mithila. That is another reason the people of Mithila have a strong bond with this place.바카라
바카라Have you brought your mother here to die?바카라 I ask him, after getting to know that his mother had accompanied him.
바카라She herself wanted to come here, to bathe in the Ganga.바카라
바카라But isn바카라t it true that you all bring your old parents and leave them here to die?바카라 I insist.
바카라That is not entirely true. We bring our parents here in their final hour. If they come here and die, good; otherwise, those who want to return, do return. Those who do not want to go back are left here for Ganga labh. But now, it is so dirty and noisy here that it has become very difficult to stay.바카라
This is true. I have seen the Ganga, which originates in Gangotri, at Rishikesh and Haridwar, and now I saw the river in Patna. It has arrived here after washing so many of our sins (the price of development?), and even here the filth from the Barauni oil refinery, a thermal power plant, the Bata tannery and the McDowell바카라s factory has been flowing into the river continuously.
Ganga is the name of the eternal stream of our devotion and faith. Our modern industrial lifestyle has poisoned its holy waters. Even though the Ganga바카라s revered stature in our faith may not have changed, the question Bhagirath was asked centuries ago grows bigger and sharper. Ganga had asked Bhagirath, 바카라People will wash away their sins in me. Where would I wash my sins?바카라 Does any Bhagirath today have the answer to this fundamental question?
The sun had climbed high in the sky. The entire landscape lay vacant at noon. The old women had gone back inside their huts. The people accompanying them had entered the tents set up by different akharas (religious orders). The mahants (head priests) of Mathura, Vrindavan, Odia Khalsa, Baliran and Madhubani all have their akharas. They run kitchens there for devotees.
Gadadhar Das, a revered saint of the Odia Khalsa order, had said, 바카라Many sinners, evil-doers, abusers also come here. They are redeemed by studying the holy texts and keeping the company of saints. Even they are absolved of their sins.바카라
A frail, old lady was returning after taking a dip in the Ganga. 바카라Mother, have you come here to wash away your sins?바카라 I ask her.
바카라Sin? What sin?바카라 she appears confused, but keeps walking.
바카라Have you come here alone?바카라 I walk along, but get no answer.
바카라Are you here on your own?바카라 I repeat.
바카라Alone, everyone is alone here. Nobody is there with you, my son,바카라 she says with a mysterious smile. 바카라Do you not long for your children, your grandchildren?바카라 I probe on.
Her lips quiver but refuse to utter what she wanted to say.
바카라Do you not have (these) desires?바카라 I ask again.
바카라Desire, what desire?바카라 She falls silent again, her drooping eyes filled with sadness. She goes back inside her straw hut with tired legs, alone.
To be free of desires! That is all!
I am suddenly reminded of these lines by US poet Arthur Guiterman:
바카라When life is woe, and hope is dumb,
The World says, 바카라Go!바카라 The Grave says,
바카라Come!바카라⿒
Can the Ganga really liberate us from our desires?
(This appeared in the print edition as "The Refuge of SINNERS")
(Views expressed are personal)
Arun Singh is a patna-based Independent journalist
