Salvation and Survival

 

While living in Varanasi, India between 2004 and 2007, I interviewed a broad range of people – men and women, Hindu and Muslim, rich and poor – each of whom offered a singular outlook on a city that is both mythological and mortal, cherished by the gods and yet poised on the brink of environmental ruin. The following text presents some of their insights. Two of the city’s other names are referred to: Banaras, the medieval stretch along the River Ganga; and Kashi, the mythological and primordial city. Interviews translated from Hindi are marked by an asterisk in the title.

 

Amitabh Battacharya, journalist and philosopher

The history of this city spans more than ten thousand years, and much longer mythologically. It is the oldest city in the world. The idea of salvation grew here and became the nucleus of our philosophy. People still believe that every stone of this city is Shiva, every grain of sand. That is why those who are detached from worldly life have always come here to die. Yet the city itself has never once died in history.

Banaras is confined to one riverbank, and the buildings are oriented towards the rising sun. It is the only city in the world with such a plan. This side of the river is crammed with medieval structures, while the far shore is bare, a plane of white sand. The true significance of Lord Shiva is this: emptiness is as good as fullness, for they are dependent upon each other.

Between the two shores flows the Ganga, the Stream of Life. Banaras marks the point at which the river bends back towards its source in the Himalaya. By doing so, the Ganga is telling us: You have run long enough. Now look within. Search to your origins.

That is the ideal of Kashi. The modern city is something else, of course. Varanasi is partially feudal, partially modern, partially industrial, and partially Westernized. We are trying to ride these four boats at once. Even while riding two boats, your legs will be pulled in opposite directions. So with one limb on each of these four boats, it becomes very difficult, impossible even, to row out far from the shore.

It would seem there is no salvation left in Banaras... there is only survival.

 

Tika Ram Nirola, priest and student of Hindu philosophy *

 

I hope to live in Varanasi until my last breath. Who knows where I’ll end up, but that’s what I hope. If ever I have to leave here, I know I’ll miss seeing Ganga every day. I think my previous life was a good one, a pious one, and that is why I get to live here now. I believe our ancient books, so I believe that moksha [liberation] is a possibility here. Life is an endless cycle, and moksha is the end. There is no hope greater than that.

I think moksha is also possible while we are still alive. Before death, you can gain internal peace and realize your closeness to God. If all your thoughts and actions are pious and you only take what is necessary for life – a little food, clothing, and shelter – and if you don’t accumulate money – then I think you are living in moksha.

This is why our generation is on such a bad track. Everything we do is harmful and excessive, the exact opposite of a pious life. Modern things are fine within limitations, but it never seems to work out that way. Our generation is losing all interest in religion. And if we lose it, what will happen two, three, or four generations down the line? That is why I think we are definitely living in the kaliyuga [final age].

 

 

Chuno-ji, social worker and local politician *

 

This is the most religious city, so festivals are happening all the time. The recitations of holy scriptures are always floating in the air. It’s this unique atmosphere of Kashi that gives us moksha. People here have a lot of time to roam around and just listen to the music and chanting. Even men who go to office jobs only spend an hour or so of the day working. The rest of the time they sit around, chatting and listening to the sounds of the city.

 

But sometimes this place really disappoints me. I bet that in another twenty years, the mafia will have control of everything in Kashi: all the houses, all the businesses. The drug problem, especially heroin and charras [hashish], is getting out of control. But what can we say? It’s the kaliyuga. Everything is going to the pits. I’d say eighty percent of life is at its worst now. We still have a ways to go, but the end of the earth is coming for sure. Brothers are killing brothers; sons are killing fathers. Over money, property, women, and drugs. Family members killing each other is the surest proof that kaliyuga has arrived.

 

 

Dr. K. P. Mishra, Professor of Indian Philosophy

 

Kashi has always been known as the City of Light. All the facilities are here for an intellectual life. It is the responsibility of the person who desires knowledge to take advantage of these opportunities. Scholars are here; saints are here. In some periods, the city was filled with them. Any person who puts in a sincere effort can find the knowledge they seek. As far as intellectual pursuits are concerned, I can say that absolutely everything is in Banaras.

The saying goes that Banaras is never vacant. Always one complete saint lives here. Whether or not you can find him is another matter. In fact it should not be easy to meet a yogi, a liberated person. I myself have not met such a man. But people say this about the city, and I believe it.

 

 

Ram-ji, boatman *

 

Nowadays, poverty and lack of jobs are the biggest problems. Everyone blames the government, but what can the government do since the population has gone out of control? There just aren’t enough resources to do what needs to be done. There’s a shortage of electricity, so day and night, you never know when the power will cut off. There’s no supply of clean drinking water, and some neighborhoods don’t get any water at all. I don’t blame the government – it’s out of their hands.

About the next ten years, of course I can’t predict anything. India is on the road of progress, so it’s inevitable that development will go on. I watch Banaras changing, growing so rapidly that the whole city is a traffic jam, and I hope this won’t be the only effect of development here. People are fleeing the middle of town and building houses in the suburbs, and the city is swelling year by year. I’ve also heard about a plan to develop the city on the other side of the river. Even if all this development were to suddenly stop, there’s no way to go back to the way we were. This place is progressing, no doubt about it.

Personally, I hope the development continues. We need to make sure the tourists keep coming, because without them businesses won’t expand and prosper. Even the sari industry depends on them now. Look, this entire world is held up by business – it’s a fact. So without tourists, without business, without development, the story of Varanasi would be very different.

There’s still some space left for good development in Kashi. My dream is that a huge factory will be set up here that will provide jobs for everyone who has no money in the city. Qualified students who can’t find jobs elsewhere could manage this factory. They could employ people without regard for caste and back stabbing politics. It wouldn’t be the kind of place where you have to bribe the management fifty or a hundred thousand rupees to get a job. The factory should be large enough to employ ten, twenty, maybe even fifty thousand people. Then our kids would have guaranteed work. There would be progress and everyone’s lives would be better off.

 

 

Hasham Turabi, poet and silk weaver *

 

The most important aspect of life in Banaras is that many different types of people live in such close proximity. We live close to each other physically and emotionally. People at large remain close in spite of the disturbances stirred up by those with political agendas.

The unique heart of this city is the Banarasi sari. Our emotional closeness is spun into it along with the silk. It’s the sari that brought us together in the first place. Muslim weavers buy silk from Hindus, and the sari is sold by Hindus. In my view, this is what defuses communalism and religious fanaticism. At the end of the riots, when the curfew is lifted, both communities have no choice but to interact again. We have to do business. That is why all the politicians’ efforts to create a rift between Hindus and Muslims invariably fail.

 

 

Hardath Upadyay, retired businessman

 

Varanasi as a whole is very bad off. This is a common phenomenon in old cities and religious places. Everything becomes dirty and congested. People must survive in these conditions. I’m afraid we have reached the point where it is no longer possible to live a pious life. Because of the increased population, there is no calm and quiet. It is not possible to concentrate and forget everything else. For meditation, atmosphere is the most important thing. It has become too difficult now. Perhaps there are still a few real meditators, I myself cannot say.

 

 

Vimal Mehra, translator and Professor of Hindi

 

Our mentality follows the geography of the place we live in. I believe that the Banarasi mindset is very much a product of the winding lanes and crumbling facades. Real masti [peacefulness] lives in the medieval parts of the city. The physical structure is conducive to community and reassures people. Everyone is thrown together like in a train compartment, so they have to get along. I lived in the old part of the city in my childhood, and I remember a vibrant, joyous way of life.

I think the old aesthetic and crumbling facades are part of what influences our masti, but the garbage and filth aren’t necessary. That has more to do with an apathy to cleanliness. We’re keen on ritual cleanliness, but not on hygiene. A deeper problem is that, in Banaras especially, we don’t actually have a sense of our history. We talk about how ancient our city is, but we make no effort to maintain and preserve our buildings. We’ve resigned ourselves to the filth and decay as part of our Banarasi life, but it doesn’t have to be this way. Any smart and imaginative architect can replicate the designs and motifs of our old buildings. Sometimes I want to scream: Why not? Why can’t we take action on our pride for Banaras? Any ancient city worth its name must care for what makes it unique.

My model for architectural changes would be the old city. Every new part of the city would have a piece of the old within it. People could choose to live in an old or new–style neighborhood. I wouldn’t do away with shopping complexes and other modern facilities, because they also have a place here now. But even shopping complexes can be designed with a somewhat medieval theme to give a feeling of the old Banaras.

Varanasi is changing so much year by year as the middle class springs up. Ten years ago, we couldn’t even dream about the convenience of putting our money in private banks. There was no such thing as an ATM machine. You had to go to a government bank and wait for hours in a queue just to get a check cleared. It’s partly due to changes like modern banks that the city is more upbeat than it was a decade ago. That’s the opposite of what most people in the older generation will tell you, because they are nostalgic for the days of their youth, when things were less crowded and polluted. But they have already lived their lives, so you can’t expect them to like the changes.

I’m not young anymore either, but I feel an air of optimism in Varanasi that wasn’t here before. There are so many problems, such as the increased rates of kidnapping and murder. But these are inescapable side effects of any economy on the rise. On the whole, we are looking to the future now.

 

 

 

Click to view the photo series, A Search for Kashi

 

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