As the sun sets in Varanasi, we (Karen, Mike, and Luigi) collect out thoughts and gather our energy on the rooftop of the Dolphin Hotel, taking in the views of the Ganga river and rooftops of the city. It’s been an amazing and busy day. It began in the morning with chants from the monks in front of the Dhamekh Stupa in Sarnath. We sat with the monks as they chanted facing the Stupa, and later shared the famed Tibetan butter tea with them. Unfortunately, we were later informed, it was not yak butter in the tea, but just plain old buffalo butter. Still, it tasted quite strong, and salty, but not in an unpleasant way. We all agreed, however, that a glass was about all we could drink of it.

Then we decided to head to Varanasi, “just for a few hours”. That turned into a full day of walking around, taking another boat ride, which took us so close to the funerary pyres that we started to feel sweltering from the heat of the burning logs, a visit to a temple dedicated to Hanuman, the monkey god, which is overrun by wild monkeys, and two passes through the main Ghats, the Dasasvamedha Ghats. So we found ourselves to be within a couple of hours of the night puja ceremony, and decided to stick it out, and witness it.

A few minutes before 6pm, the ghats are teeming with people, some already sitting on the raised platforms that serve as bleachers, and some scattered over the steps, on the roofs of nearby building, and, of course, on boats on the river. Loud music is playing over the loudspeakers, and at first I couldn’t identify the source. Eventually I found out that it was a harmonium player and a table player in the front, play and singing. By the river, there are seven smaller raised platforms, each with a small altar in front, with a few items on top of it, waiting for the holy men to take their place on them. Next to each platform, high up on the scaffolding, there are two bells, connected via long strings to someone in the public.

Eventually the time comes for the ceremony to begin. A candle is lit on each of the platforms, and the holy men take their place. The music becomes a devotional chant, slow and mesmerizing. for the entire ritual, each of the seven men will repeat exactly the same motions: the ritual begins with the playing of a conch shell, staccato at first, and ending with a long sustained note. Then the slow repetitive dance begins: first incense sticks are waved, toward the river at first, and then with identical motions in the other three directions.

Then big incense burners are lit, and waved in the same way, its sweet smell filling the entire audience.

One by one, different offerings are presented to the deities, some of them spectacular in their fiery glory, others as simple as marigold petals. The whole puja lasts for an indefinite amount of time, I really can’t tell if it’s been 10 minutes or 3 hours. Eventually the conch shell is sounded again, and most people start to leave.

However, the ceremony is not over yet. An even slower and more mellifluous dance with a feather brush begins, while the audience joins in the chanting and more upbeat singing. Finally, the holy men all gather at the front, facing the river, preparing for their last veneration. A yell goes out, from the singer and the crowd, hands in the air. A final farewell to the holy Ganga.

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