Holy Water: A Dilemma of Gangetic Proportions

O Mother Ganga, may your water, abundant blessing of the world, treasure of Lord Siva, playful Lords of all earth, embodied goodness of the gods, May your water, sublime wine of immortality, Sooth our troubled souls.

Varanasi is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world. Also known as Benares this sacred place is deeply mystical. Here, faithful converge and congregate at the Ghats that border the banks of the sacred Ganga to bathe. By the holy river, the pure are made purer and the impure have their pollution diluted from their spirits and souls, even if only for a fleeting moment.

In reality –my reality– the revered Ganga as it streams through the ancient city is but a cesspool of bacteria, raw sewage, heavy metal discharge, bio-waste, countless other man-made detritus, and industrial pollutants. Kumar (2010) noted that Ganga, a symbol of purity and plentitude of water in Indian culture and literature, is struggling for its existence as it faces continuous degradation.

Yet today, just as yesterday, millions come to worship (Puja) in the sacred banks of the Ganges. Hindus believe that bathing in the Ganges or leaving a part of themselves, such as bone or hair on the left bank will help them to attain paradise (Svarga). There are no written records for the source of this practice, even the origin of the sanctity of the Ganges varies. Many Hindus believe that the sacred river flows from the toe of Vishnu to be spread into the world through the hair of Shiva.

Through evocative narrative, I attempt to grasp, from an outsider’s perspective, some of the irreconcilable differences that separates modern and traditional India, as embodied through the religious manifestation of bathing at the Ghats of Varanasi. On this modest path to enlightenment I will consider how one of the practices I was privileged to witness on the banks of the Ganges challenged my conception of purity. It is difficult to commensurate, from my own agnostic perspective, the dichotomy between the values of Hinduism, and the ecological reality of the Ganges.

Water is life: it covers 75% of the earth surface, and makes up 60% of the human body. It is forever sacred to humanity no matter how far back we gaze through the looking glass. Religions consider it holy and ritualistic. Islam ascribes the most sacred qualities to water as a life giving, sustaining, and purifying resource. It is the origin of all life on earth; (Qur’an 25:54) describes it as the substance from which God created man.

The Sikhs bathes in the Sarovar, the holy water forming the lake around the Golden Temple, the Harmandir Sahib. Baptism by water is consistently found in Judeo-Christian rites. For the Hindus, all water is sacred, rivers especially. Of the seven sacrosanct rivers*, the Ganges, which takes its source from the Gangotri glacier at the foothill of the Himalayas, is the most sacred of all. If Hinduism holds countless sects and beliefs, shared by most is the importance to strive for purity and avoid Physical and spiritual pollution. Mysorekar, (2006) explains that water represents the “non-manifested substratum from which all manifestation derived�, and it is considered by Hindus to be a purifier, life-giver, and destroyer of evil.

It is believed that the sacred rivers are great equalizers; in these waters the distinctions imposed by castes are alleviated as all sins fall and are washed away.

*Ganges, Godavari Kaveri, Narmada, Sarasvati, Sindhu, and Yamuna.

As I climb the steps of the Ghats searching for a better vantage point, I am conscious of where I step, nimbly avoiding cow dung, mud patches, and other excrements of undetermined nature. One more notch and I will reach the top. The temple wall extends several hundred feet above; it’s now at my back. I turn around to take in the surreal scene, it is misty, and dawn is swiftly giving rise to day. Even this early, beads of sweats are pearling from my forehead, slowly making their way down my temples. The sun has not quite yet burnt through the opaque smog that engulfs Varanasi and Mother Ganga.

The sun has not quite yet burnt through the opaque smog that engulfs Varanasi and Mother Ganga. As I gaze across the Ghats to the opposite shore of the roily river, everything is at peace, in the right place at the right moment. For thousands of years nothing has changed, in this place I am the oddity. Colorful wooden skiffs lazily make their way up and down the turbid river. Further to my right Dalits, “untouchables” are busy washing laundry by the water’s edge, beating colorful silks against large flat rocks scattered among the muddy banks.

Even in the wee hours of the morning the Ghats are busy. The smell of incent permeates the air. I am in a very sensuous and sanctimonious place. Varanasi overloads my senses; the smells of humanity, its continuous cacophony, a myriad of colours dancing in the early light. Absently my hand strokes the rampart of the temple behind, affording my very being the pleasure to savour this moment, to take it all in… Abruptly, too abruptly I am torn away from my contemplation. Something below catches my eye, and I am jolted back to reality.

“Or am I?”

Slightly annoyed by this unwelcomed interruption, my gaze falls on the small group of women a dozen or so meters down the steps, at the water’s edge.

Three of them, cladded in their bright and colorful sarees solemnly contemplate the misty sunrise. I study them from afar conscious that my stare pierces their intimacy, I feel it. Soon I know they will begin worship, know they will perform Puja. Ceremoniously their hands join in prayer, humbly bowing to the eternal; they are preparing for Hindus’ most basic of obligation, morning cleansing with water. Without further reverence, the first one steps knee deep in the Ganges, vigorously she uses both arms to splash the water around herself. She clears the filth away from where she stands.

Moving slightly forward, she steps deeper in the sacred brine, as if making room for her two companions. They are still seated on the venerable steps, ankle deep in the brackish water. The woman splashes with more intent, both arms violently beating the flows, stepping further yet, the purifying liquid now slightly above her waist.

Finally she stops, cupping water in her hands, chanting mantras in a language as ancient as the age of time.

Absentmindedly, I think back to my readings, is this Jalanjali, Jalajapam? Both practices are ceremonies involving water and incantations. In Jalanjali, Sakaran (2006) explains that a handful of water is offered to the gods. Jalajapam is a prayer where the devout stands in sacred water knee to waist deep and chants hymns or recites mantras.

Unsure I wonder… The water from her cupped hands is returned to the river, I hesitate, Tarpana? It is the Hindu water ritual where water oblations are made to gods so they may be satisfied and released. So layered, so complex… It’s a guessing game, if I could only remember what I know. I am completely entranced, a voyeur publicly sharing a private of moment. Now, she takes her cupped hands to her mouth, bringing the aqueous liquid to her lips. Once, twice, three times she sips the holy water, this I know… it is Achamana, one of the most recognizable water incantations. Here the believer consists of sipping water three times from using the Brahma-Grantha (the fleshy base of the right thumb) while praising of the lord. Water is first poured into the cupped palms, or scooped from the river. At which point, the disciple recites the intended mantra to then quietly sip the liquid. I am mesmerized by the scene. “What is she feeling?” I silently wonder. Does she know that with each sacred purifying gesture, she is swallowing death? In essence she is sealing her -faith-.

Again with the arms splashing, splashing away, clearing the grime, she has pushed away most of the debris.

She takes another step and suddenly almost disappears before my eyes as she wallows in the squalid murky water. The purifying act of body and soul, Kaamyasnanam, she hopes to quench a deep longing desire, The first woman has cleared a path for her two companions, they follows in her footsteps and, as thousands before repeat each gesture of the sacred choreography. In this sanctimonious instance I see their pious beauty; indeed they are pure, beautiful.

Beautiful but lost to me. Swiftly the trio is back on the Ghats, soaked they shiver from the cold water; they seem resignated, content. What a strange place this is! “Is this faith, blind faith?”

I too am lost, lost in thoughts…

Reminiscing of my time in Benares, I can’t ignore the facts; the sacred Ganges, where millions come to worship, is an open sewer, 2.1 million Indian children under the age of five die every year from dirty water Barlow (2009). These are not simply words on the page of a book, even if not sacred surely they bare meaning, are they meaningless for them? What I found to be so deeply moving, profound was in fact a daily occurrence at the Ghats, an anecdotal moment lost in the banality of life and times in Varanasi. The faithful purify themselves in filth. Does the Hindu know the facts about the sacred Ganga? Of course he does, he is not blind. Does he know how impure it has become? How can his faith be so strong have to forgo factual sensibility?

Several studies over the last 75 years have been conducted by, among others, Bearak; Freeze; Ganguli; O’Connor; Paranjpye all (document in Adel, 2001) how we have destroyed this vast and precious ecosystem, with unsustainable practices. Bharati (2006) notes from estimates of the World Bank that the cost of water pollution in India represents as much as 3% of its GDP, and that the Ganga Action Plan failure threatens to destroy the entire eco-system that makes up the river and adjacent basin. The Ganges basin and adjacent Gangetic plains are an ecological disaster, home to no less than 400 million people, or one out of every 17 humans on the planet. The Ganga Action Plan (GAP), launched in 1985, with the objective of bringing water quality of river Ganga and its tributaries to bathing levels, was not able to achieve its objectives, despite a total expenditure of Rs 901.71 crore over a period of 15 years.

Belief is however stronger, Shiva (2008) notes that the Ganges is a mother in a deep sense in Indian culture; that the people bring their ashes to this river when they die. Until those ashes touch the river, their spirit and soul are not considered to have salvation. Shiva further explains that when a child is born we put a drop of Ganges water in their mouth, when someone dies the last rite is a drop of Ganges water. The water cleanses, it is considered purifying in a deep spiritual sense. It is the place where human return to become more human. It is the river that gives us our humanity. Today, its life is under threat, and with the life of Mother Ganga threatened, so is threaten the belief of a billion Indians.

I am caught in a dialogical conundrum as old as the language of man, one that I will not solve with a few lines of dyadic rhetoric. Fact or fable, is the Ganges pure or putrid? Does science possess the answer or does faith alone holds the key to redemption? In a sense I am glad to be having this conversation with myself as so often discussions of this nature end in lapidation, hanging or jihad. I understand that there may be nothing “good” or “bad” in the universe that only the value we assign to things and behaviors render them as such. Sidsel (2001) notes that whether the Ganges River in Varanasi is pristinely pure or heavily polluted depend on by whom its qualities are defined. The Brahmin on the Ghats or the scientist on the steps of the university hall, each must decide what rings true to them.

I hope the dialogue runs deeper, how can we preserve the heritage of faith if we desecrate the place where it is sanctified the most? For the modern Hindu a discussion is already taking place. Not taking position and exacerbate factions but coming to term with the fact that preserving the eco-system and preserving the faith is one and the same, it is not about choosing side, it is about trying to make sense of yet another troubling aspect of everyday modern life. If changes are to take place they must be initiated not only from a secular perspective but also incorporate the sacred and ritualistic rhythms of the Ghats. However, nothing is ever this simple; any transformation of the traditional towards the modern must consider India’s constantly evolving reality.

Have I changed? One cannot but heed to the raw and exposed humanity of this sacred place. Be baffled by the desecration of nature and man. I am thankful for my existence. Safely tucked in, protected by the sanctity of my keyboard, I can afford to reflect on the sad state of affairs, instead of having to struggle for a daily ration of tainted water. It is easier for me; I can simply drink the sacred liquid from the transparent bottle of polyethylene terephthalate that stands on my desk, just a few inches from my reach. I too can drink death content to do so in my belief that in this reality, I have succeeded in protecting myself from the evils of the world.

E p i l o g u e I know something deep inside me has changed, made me different than I was before. To know about something is one thing, to see and witness life slowly dying before your eyes is another. The Ganges is more polluted now then it was before the failure of the Ganga action plan, and there are at this time no officially coordinated efforts at resuming the cleaning. I offer no solution, just the hope of knowing that each of can play a part in this conscienticizing his neighbour. Less than 1% of the world water is potable and every day that passes sees this resource been carelessly depleted. By first changing ourselves, we can hope to affect changes in others. Freire (1970) argues that the objective of conscientization is to power the knowledge and resources of groups, by facilitating a learning process that becomes critical, "transitive" and dialogical, changing consciousness, aiming for the potentiality of [sic] "liberation".

I do not know how change will happen but it has or we will cease to exist, maybe it will come from ourselves, from introspection.

If we can stop just for a moment and ask ourselves what are we doing here on this earth exactly? Each of us asking herself and himself what really matters, take some actions, make a change that is consistent with what matters. If the 20 th century was the century of stupidity, maybe the 21th will be the time of the common man.

References Adel, M.M. (2001). Effect on water resources from Upstream water diversion in the Ganges Basin. Journal of Environmental Quality, 30(2) 356-368.

Bharati, R. K. (2006). Interlinking of Indian Rivers. Delhi: Lotus Press.

Barlow, M. (2009). Blue Covenant: The global water crisis and the coming battle for the right to water. Toronto: McClelland & Stewart Eck, D. L. (2003). Ganga: The Goddess Ganges. In Baviskar, A. (ed.), Hindu Sacred Geography (pp 28-49). Delhi: Waterline.

Freire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the oppressed. New York: Continuum.

Kumar, P.P. (2010). The Ganga: Water use in the Indian subcontinent. New York: Springer Dordrecht Heidelberg.

Sidsel, H. (2001). Not Just Any Water: Hinduism, ecology and the Ganges water controversy. Department of Theology, Lund, Sweden.

Myrosekar, U. (2006). Eye on Religion: Clinicians and Hinduism. Southern Medical Journal, 99(4), 47-57.

Sakaran, V.N. (2006, May 26). Hinduism: A Holy Water Religion “Bologi.com”. Retrieved from http://www.boloji.com/index.cfm?md=Content&sd=Articles& ArticleID=700 Shiva, V. (2006). Mother Ganga. In Starr, S. & Salina, I. Flow: For love of water “Netflix”. USA: Group Entertainment, The. Other work consulted Darian, S.G. (1978). The Ganges in myth and history. Honolulu: University press of Hawaii.

Echeverria, M. (2007). 10 World’s top 10 rivers at risk. Switzerland: WWF International. Retrieved from: http://www.worldwildlife.org/who/media/press/2007/WWFPresitem925.html Pickthall, M.M. (1997). The meaning of the Glorious Koran. New York: Penguin Books.

Narayana Murty, P. & Shunglu, V.K. (2000). Ganga Action Plan. New Delhi, India: Scientific Department. Retrieved from: http://www.cag.gov.in/reports/scientific/ 2000_book2/gangaactionplan.htm Shukla, N.M. (2010). Bhagavad Gita & Hinduism: What everyone should know. Delhi: Readworthy Publication (P) Ltd. Singh, K. (2006). The Sikhs. New York: Harper Collins.