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Varanasi -From the prayer flags flying from the hilltops of the Tibetan community of Dharamsala to the yogis, ashrams, temples, and yoga centers of Rishikesh, I went from Buddhism to Hinduism on an overnight bus. Waking up bleary-eyed and short of sleep in Rishikesh, I thought: I’m back in India. Shopping ladies in colorful saris, ochre-robed wandering sadhus, huge trash-eating cows lounging about blocking traffic, destitute crippled and diseased beggars, families of Hindu pilgrims with red dots or straight lines on their foreheads visiting temples and shrines, the hum and bustle of people filling every space, garbage and raw sewage underfoot, mangy dogs, and constant honking.

For the next couple weeks, I followed the course of the Ganges, the holiest river in Hinduism (personified as a goddess, the mother of all). I tried to get to its source in remote Himalayan Gangotri, but couldn’t get all the way because the temple there had just closed and no transport remained. I meditated on its banks in hilly Rishikesh, where the tributaries converge into roaring headwaters, running fast and glacial blue. I bathed at the ghats in the Holy city of Haridwar, where the river is still cool and clean. I watched the cremation ceremonies at the ghats in Varanasi, a city older than history itself and the center of the Hindu cosmos. Varanasi is thought to be a gateway between the worlds. It is said that if you die there, you achieve instant liberation. (more…)

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