1

BANARAS.

TO SEE WHAT THE EYE DOES NOT SEE.

Winand M. Callewaert
 2

Preface

1. Starting our pilgrimage to antiquity 4

2. Walking around Banaras: macrocosmic order 9

3. You are lucky if you die here 16

4. In death Hindus are not equal 20

5. Shiva the Great Lord 25

6. “Worship me as lingam”, says Shiva. Why? 31

7. Bhairav, or Shiva as ‘police chief’ of Banaras 35

8. Weavers of Banaras 42

9. Ganesh, ‘son’ of Shiva 48

10. Pand -s or pilgrims’ priests 56

11. The River Front 60

12. I lived in Banaras (Isabelle Bermijn) 65

13. Shiva. ‘A model devotee of R m’ 69

14. ‘Banarsiness’ (Philip Lutgendorf) 72

15. Shiva and the monkey god Hanuman (Philip Lutgendorf) 76

16. Banaras. ‘Abode of thieves’ 80

17. Architecture in Banaras 84

18. Kabīr. Who created his verses? 88

19. Raid s. Low-caste and Bhakta 94

Books quoted 130

 3

PREFACE

To a first-time visitor Banaras may appear to be a city of noisy machines

generating electricity for individual houses and shops at any time of day
or night, of rustling bare feet on the dusty sandstone pavement on the
riverfront, of blaring loudspeakers, of countless rickshaws and kamikaze
scooters, of intense peace in the compound of the Krishnamurti
foundation north of the bridge to Ramnagar, of bells at 6 pm in the
countless temples, of fighting dogs, of the peaceful movements of a lady
pouring water on a Shiva lingam on Asi gh t, of a shopkeeper on the
pavement humming (in Hindi) without interruption ‘siy r m siy r m,
come and buy my sweets’, of the echoes of the woodcutting and the
crackling fire on the cremation ground, and of so many more sounds that
are part of the daily cacophony of a thriving but unique metropolis.

The sounds and sights deceive the casual visitor. A popular saying
about Banaras,
r nda s nda s rh sany s , inse bace tab seve k sh , or

“Widows, bulls, steps and ascetics.

Avoid them and you can live in K shī”

is only half the truth. What is there in Banaras that, though repulsive in
many ways, attracts thousands of tourists, and hundreds of thousands of
Hindu pilgrims? It cannot be only the splendid river front in the early
morning sun, or the colourful alleys, or the devotion of brave women and
men, young and old, taking a purifying bath in the (often) cold and not too
clean Ganges 1, or the perennial sermons of the priests on the wooden
platforms near the river, or just the air near the river. What is it? The
answer can be found only in the heart of each individual reader, because
Banaras bares your soul. I too found some answers, and these I want to
share.

At times Banaras truly becomes the City of Light, bringing light to

the visitor’s heart, illuminating his real self, caught in the shell of material
concerns. Is that contrast, between the material and the spiritual the first
attraction and repulsion of Banaras? With apparent disrespect for the

1 Ganges is the English spelling for the Sanskrit word Gang .

 4

material, bodies are discarded or burnt in Banaras, emphasizing that only

the ‘self’ is important. This is a sight that may at first freeze your heart,
but may then slowly bring light, a light that never disappears if you have
spent some time in Banaras.

Banaras is not only the city of Shiva. Very prominent also in

shrines and festivals is Vishnu and his incarnations as R m or as Var h
(the Boar). Ganesh is found everywhere and no pilgrim will forget to
honour him, or Hanum n the monkey-devotee of R m, or the ‘mother’
Annapurn , or Shītal Devī, the goddess of smallpox, and many more
curtains that can be opened to reveal the sacred. It is also the city of
Bhairav and of Durg . It is a Hindu city, with [in the year 2000 ] a 38%
Moslem population and, according to Rana Singh, 2400 Moslem shrines.
In 1996 the population of greater V r nasī was estimated to be about 1.5
million.

Banaras is not the holy city. It is a very human city, perhaps not
paralleled by any other place of pilgrimage anywhere in the world, but
very human. Having lived and studied in Banaras for two years and after
many returns, I owe it to the city to write this book, because in Banaras
my life took a new turn.
 5

1. Starting our pilgrimage to antiquity

The pilgrims got up at four in the morning to catch the bus leaving at five.
Several ladies who joined the pilgrimage for the first time —in fact also
for the last time— in their lives, could not decide what not to take. They
came late. Then the chapr s who has to clean the bus and open the door,
went home and did not turn up again. The pilgrims left at 2 pm. What
matters half a day if you are on the pilgrimage of your life? Starting in
Pushkar in Rajasthan they were heading for Puri on the east coast. A
pilgrimage of one month. The lost time was made up by travelling at
night, an enterprise that most bus drivers in India hate, and fear. So do I.
As a result of the delay they also spent a few hours less in the sacred
waters on the route.

Starting in Pushkar was highly auspicious. In the oldest accounts

—found in the Mah bh rat epic (ca. 200 BC?)— describing the route one
should follow when going from one place of pilgrimage to another,
Pushkar in Rajasthan is the starting place. Why not Banaras, which clearly
was a celebrated holy place in those days too? In the Mah bh rat epic
Pushkar is highly praised, possibly because Brahm was worshipped there
(there is still a Brahm temple there today, though this deity has hardly
any devotees!). This leads one to the supposition that in epic times
Brahm was a far more important deity than Shiva. The epic clearly
mentions that a visit to Pushkar equals the merit gained from organizing
ten horse-sacrifices. In contrast, a visit to Banaras merely equals the merit
gained from organizing a royal coronation-sacrifice! In the Mah bh rat
epic ‘Shiva’ is not even mentioned or associated with any place. The
name is Rudra, as in Vedic times, or, interestingly, the ‘husband of Um ’.
However, let no Shiva devotee be discouraged. None of the sacred places
in the epic has been associated with Vishnu or Krishna either, who
became prominent deities later.

Within twelve days after the death of their relative, several

pilgrims from Rajasthan disposed of the ‘flowers’ (bone remains or ashes
of the cremation) as soon as they could. That was in Hardwar, where the
Ganges comes out of the Himalayas, not in Banaras! In Hardwar all the
required rituals were taken care of. When the burden of that obligation
(see chapter 4) was removed the pilgrims travelled in a much more
relaxed way. Allahabad, also on the Ganges, was the place to have their
 6

heads shaved, and Gaya was the place to ritually offer a pinda (rice-ball)
for the deceased.

On the road again, to Banaras, all the pilgrims knew they were
going to an ancient city, ‘ancient’ not in terms of centuries, but in terms of
the respect that comes from hearsay. Everybody had always said that
Banaras was the oldest city in India. Such hearsay is not based on the
archaeological evidence that scholars now produce when they state that
“there are traces of a settlement of 800 BC”, nor even on the notion that
by 500 BC Banaras was the pole of attraction par excellence for anyone
who had an idea to promote: the Buddha gave his first historical speech in
Sarnath, near Banaras. It is a hearsay that allows no denial or refutation,
and it is spread by the local priests functioning in Banaras. Pilgrims of
course know. Be it Kanchipuram or Vrindaban, Hardwar or
Rameshwaram or Puri, each local priest will solemnly declare that the
pilgrim is now in the centre of the universe, deriving benefits from his
worship that he will not obtain anywhere else. The hearsay about Banaras
has that slight touch of superiority that has its roots in really ancient
sources. Even if the pilgrim never sees them, he is in awe of the ancient
texts the priest quotes Sanskrit.

Scholars guess that the most ancient lengthy work eulogising the
greatness of Banaras is the K sh Kh nda, probably completed before
1200 AD. It is a huge work that, everyone agrees, took shape in the minds
and the memories of its compilers, not on paper. It consists of more than
11,000 verses and so is about half the size of the R m yan epic. Its
redaction must have been a process of several centuries, with different
persons adding stories and myths to it. From that treasure-trove later
authors drew their matter and their inspiration, and so do the priests of the
present-day. The mythology in the K sh Kh nda is both local and all-
Indian in character. Even if the praises of Banaras are sung, the pilgrim is
always reminded of the fact that Banaras is just one step in a long walk,
all over the subcontinent. At the same time, nearly every lingam, every
site in Banaras is described with some mythic account of its ancient
origin.

Each pand will have his favourite myth. Pilgrims are attentive
listeners, but the bus driver is nervous and the schedule is tight. If the
pand wants his money for the day, his story has to be good. He can tell
about the fiery appearance of the lingam (phallic symbol of Shiva) of
light, or of the decapitation of Brahm by Shiva, or the penance of the
wandering Shiva, or the fire-sacrifice of Shiva’s father-in-law Daksha, or
the bloody battle of Durg with the buffalo-demon Mahīsh, and so on.
 7

Dozens of works in Sanskrit were produced from 1000 CE

onwards. One especially interesting text is the K sh Rahasya, in which,
amazingly, Vishnu is given as much attention as Shiva. Was a need felt, at
a particular time in history, to establish Banaras as the sacred ground of
both of the principal male deities? Many Hindus primarily worship
Vishnu. Did they avoid ‘the city of Shiva’, till it was established in stories
that Vishnu too is mystically present in Banaras? In the K sh Rahasya
text, Banaras is also seen as a geographical manifestation of the Supreme
Brahm . It transcends the sectarian disputes between followers of Shiva
and devotees of Vishnu. In Banaras, everyone is welcome to seek a vision
of what cannot be seen.

The reading of these Sanskrit texts can make one nostalgic for the
times when Banaras was just a paradisiacal forest grove, giving shade and
peace to ascetics who meditated there after their early morning bath in the
Ganges. Later, when teashops and small hotels —initially only shacks of
bamboo mats, we can imagine— proliferated, Banaras lost its pristine
environment. How will it look fifty years into the 21st century?

When studying the antiquity of a place like Banaras the historian

should of course rely on historical sources: inscriptions, coins and
travellers’ reports. At the same time one should not ignore the oldest
mythological or semi-mythological sources. The oldest such source
mentioning Banaras is found in the Atharva Veda (ca. 1,000 BC?), with
the name K shī. A few centuries later, K shī is a kingdom of which
V r nasī is the capital. The Varan river, an affluent of the Ganges, is in
ancient sources also called V r nasī and that may be the most sensible
etymology of the name of the city. (Or is it the city between the Varan
and Asi rivers flowing into the Ganges?). The British said and wrote
‘Banaras’, people now generally call it ‘Banaras’, or V r nasī. Banaras
has been given several names, each name having a specific meaning and
expressing a specific quality or power: K shī, ‘the city of light’,
Rudrav sa or ‘the dwelling-place of Shiva’, Avimukta or ‘the city never
forsaken by Shiva’, nand-van or ‘the forest of bliss’.
 8

Upon reaching Banaras make your peace with death

for life is just beginning.

Should you die here, consider yourself lucky:

the pilgrim wins countless lives.

Tadeus Pfeifer
 9

2. Walking around Banaras: macrocosmic order

I try to understand it, but I cannot interiorize it. Honestly, it does not
give a meaning to my life on this earth. But it did, very much so, for
Indians in ancient India, and it is meaningful even today for the residents
of Banaras and for the pilgrims going there. It is the vision of the
macrocosmic order. The seers in ancient India conceived of a macrocosm
of which each individual, and the environment in which he or she lives, is
or can be, a mirrored likeness. Do we enter the world of ideas of Plato
here, or is it something else? There is more to be seen than the eye can
see!

How can an individual achieve harmony in his personal life, or

how can a society function properly? By trying to bring the order that
governs the unseen macrocosm down to the level of the microcosm in
which we live and which we are. A very complex symbolism developed
from this view, and a site like Banaras —and so many other sites and
temples in India— rises like a bright sun before our eyes if we understand
this view, if we see the traces of this symbolism in the alleys and temple-
structures.

The sacred cosmos is a construction of the intellect that gives a

secure framework in which we can situate our own social and individual
existence. In our own personal and in the social chaos we look for order in
a cosmic construction, and we bring that order down to our own level.
There may be a comparable notion in the Christian tradition, namely the
view that we are made in the image of God and that we can achieve our
personal harmony and final destination only if we conform to that divine
model. But in the Indian context, the macrocosmic view is only partly
connected with God.

What is this view and how does it pertain to Banaras?

Ideally the individual should travel around the cosmos and imbibe
the spirit, the vibrations of the cosmic order. But who can do that? Who
even in his most daring dreams, or with the most powerful imagination or
spiritual powers can make such a journey?
Nobody?
The answer is: everyone!
 10

Because in the structure of a temple, and especially in the geography of a

sacred place like Banaras, the macrocosm is symbolically present. Walk
around Banaras on specific routes, and you walk around the cosmos. This
walk can bring about in you a sense of cosmic harmony. Look for the
signposts of this cosmic walk and you will find your way. As all the
Divine may be present before you in one image, the whole universe lies
under your feet if you walk the dusty paths or paved roads on the
prescribed routes of the cosmic walk in and around Banaras.

1. If you really want to tour all around the cosmos, you can do that
walking 300 km around Banaras. Very few people do it nowadays,
possibly because the path is disappearing in the urban sprawl and
overpopulation of modern India. The route is described in ancient Sanskrit
texts, which identify all the deities and sacred places you meet on the
road, and tell you what each place symbolically stands for. As in the
smaller tours, this journey too starts and ends at the centre of the universe,
the foot of the pillar supporting all: the ‘Golden Temple’ or Vishvan th
temple. Its name emphasizes its function: ‘temple of the Lord of the
Universe’. How great a villager must feel having made this tour, his
belongings on his head, his children and his wife trailing behind him.

2. For most pilgrims, a shorter walk around the cosmos will do. “Walk the
nearly 90 km of the Panchakrosh tour, and you will definitely reach
liberation from this world”, we are advised in a 12th century text. I am not
sure whether liberation is to be obtained within this life, but the
prescription of it is easy enough: the tour will take you five to six days.

You will meet exactly 108 —a sacred number in Hindu tradition—

sacred sites on this shortened cosmic pilgrimage. Of course, do not forget
to carry coins and Rupee notes on this tour, because at many of these sites
a priest will expect some donation. It is not accidental that the tour is a
clockwise circumambulation: you always keep the sacred places along the
road, and the very centre of the sacred area, on your right, which is the
auspicious side of your body. Tens of thousands of people follow this
route at the peak time, which is during the 13th month added to the Hindu
calendar every third year.

Acquiring merit is not the only reason why a pilgrim walks and
walks in and around Banaras. Doing the Panchakrosh tour is also very
efficient if you want to start with a clean slate and have all your sins
forgiven. Even the monstrous crime of killing a cow may be expiated on
this route. The pand will tell you that you should not be discouraged by
 11

the greatness of your sins. There are glorious examples before you.
Remember the story of Shiva who in a dispute cut off the fifth head of
Brahm ? He did that with the nail of his little finger, but Brahm ’s skull
just stuck to that finger and wouldn’t go away: a very visible result of past
actions. What did Shiva do? He went to Banaras and in a place we can
still visit today he was able to shed that skull, and be released of his sin.
The place is called K p l-vimochan, ‘release of the skull’. Would your sin
be as hideous? And didn’t also R m and his brothers walk the
Panchakrosh tour to expiate the killing of R van? Just walk then, and
you will be purified of your sins.

This quotation in Sanskrit is an eulogy of Banaras, attributed to

the Brahmavaivarta Pur n.

If you have sinned elsewhere, your sin is destroyed in the sacred

area
(of Banaras).
If you sin in the sacred area, your sin is destroyed on the bank of the
Gang .
If you sin on the bank of the Gang , your sin is destroyed in K sh .
If you sin in K sh , your sin is destroyed in V r nas .
If you sin in V r nas , your sin is destroyed in the Avimukta zone.
If you sin in the Avimukta zone, your sin is destroyed ‘inside the
house’ 2
If you sin ‘inside the house’, your sin becomes hard like plaster.
You can crack this plaster only by going on the Panchakrosh tour.
Therefore, by all means try to do the Panchakrosh tour.
(K.N. Vyas, p. 39).

But be aware. Do not sin on the Panchakrosh route! That is really a sin.
At all cost avoid the merest hint of lust, anger and envy when walking
there, or even the unintentional destruction of insects beneath your feet.
This is a nearly impossible task, some will argue, and therefore they
refrain from venturing on that route of expiation. You must in any case
make this journey, even if only symbolically, by walking at least around
the Panchakrosh temple in the heart of the city. Banaras has facilities for
all kinds of stamina and devotion. The greater is always present in the
smaller, till you have the whole cosmos in your own heart. Once you have
achieved that, there is no more need to go on pilgrimage. On the walls of
the sanctum of this Panchakrosh temple you will see the 108 stations of

2 ‘Inside the house’ refers to the Golden temple (Vishvan th temple) where Shiva
dwells.
 12

the Panchakrosh road depicted. Stop at each of them and you have gone
around the cosmos.

3. Walking only around the Panchakrosh temple is really a very short cut
of a short cut, and you will be wise to do at least the one-day city tour of
25 km (the Nagar pradakshin ). Try to do that on the full moon of
November-December and you will get the maximum cosmic merit, if, of
course, you first have a bath in the Ganges! That will be early in the
morning if you have to walk all day and it can be pretty chilly at that time
of the year. You must take your bath near the cremation grounds of Mani-
karnik gh t and then pay a visit to the Lord of the universe in the
Vishvan th temple. After you have completed the tour and you have
visited the 72 sacred places and sites on the way —another auspicious
number!— you perform the closing ritual at the Jn na V pī pavilion.
There you have to recite all the 72 names of the shrines and deities, and
ask for forgiveness if at any site you have been distracted, or did not
donate enough! You can make up for these sins in the Jn na V pī
pavilion. The Brahman there readily accepts your plea for forgiveness and
your donation. Thus you achieve total purification in one day’s walk.

4. You are very fortunate if you do not die on that city-tour, because it has
taken you outside the most sacred circle of Banaras (the Avimukta Zone),
even if only for a few hours. That circle is avimukta or ‘never forsaken by
Shiva’ and within that circle is the area in which one should die, to be
forever with Shiva. Glorious is the description of that place of places in
the Sanskrit texts, but there is one problem: it is not really very accurately
defined. Where does it really end? You may of course try to solve this
problem by staying as close as you can to the centre of the circle, but what
to do if your house, or your hotel is in the shady area? And if the bank of
the Ganges is the border, what happens if you die while taking a bath in
the river? Some will therefore claim that the border is actually the middle
the river!

If you must die in Banaras, you must at least try to be within the
circle. Why then did they build the university hospital outside the circle?
Certainly not to attract people who feel the end is coming! An irony of
modern times, ignoring the basic imperative of an ancient city.

The all-pervasive power of Shiva is manifest in every stone of this

sacred circle. Knowledge and wisdom are acquired here without effort.
Only good deeds from previous births can give you the privilege of living
—and dying— here. Whatever happens, do not leave this circle, ever.
 13

Circumambulating the Avimukta Zone (about 12 km) should be

done preferably on the darkest day in January-February, just before the
thin crescent of the new moon appears. Worship this sacred circle, we are
advised in the Mah bh rat epic (2nd century BC) or even earlier and you
will be relieved even from the sin of killing a Brahmin. On this walk too
you will encounter not less than 72 sacred sites.

5. The antargrih y tr or ‘walk inside the house’ of the Golden Temple is

an experience of the macrocosm in the microcosm, the universal in the
most intimate. One day I asked a priest in Banaras: “What advice can you
give me when I go back to the west?”. He said: “Whatever I can tell you,
you will find it in your own heart”. The central focus of the macrocosmic
order is found in the heart of the city of Banaras, then in the heart of the
Vishvan th temple (called the ‘womb’) where Shiva resides in the lingam,
and finally in the heart of the individual. Standing in the inner sanctum of
the temple —only Hindus are allowed to go in!— you can feel the most
intense vibrations of the universe. Here Shiva is present in the most
concentrated way. Again, you not only stand there, ‘inside the house’, you
must walk around it, as if a mortal cannot continually reside in the peak
experience of mystical ecstasy. Walking around ‘the inside’ can be done
in just an hour or two.

It is an irony of the tourist business that tourists do this

circumambulation only halfway. They are led down to the
Dashashvamedh gh t and into a boat, then downstream to the cremation
gh t where they go ashore and then make their way through the alleys and
past the colourful shops till they arrive at the Golden temple, where they
are allowed to climb on a rooftop to take the classical picture of its golden
spire! Many do not realize that they do actually pass the Lord of the
universe in the golden temple on their right hand, —as it should be
done—, but when they come out unto the main street, they fail to continue
the walk around the temple. No share in the merit!

“You must have the privilege of a body born in India to participate

in the merits of a visit to Banaras”, a pand one day told me. The mini-
route around the Golden Temple is very crowded, not only with houses
and people, but even more with symbolic numbers and symbolic layers.
Worshipping at the different sites on this route you touch on all the vital
parts of Shiva’s body. Remember, this area is called Avimukta. ‘Shiva
never leaves this area’, because this area is Shiva himself. Imagine an
immense supply of energy, like a bubble of air deep down in the ocean.
The little energy that moves through your brains is a part of that bubble.
Walking on the ‘route of the inside’ in Banaras you touch on seven
 14

centres, cakra-s, of that immense energy as you worship the seven deities
here.

A vision is to see more than is to be seen.

What you can definitely see is the hesitation of the pilgrims

hovering around their bus when they have arrived in Banaras for the first
time in their life, early in the morning. What to do first? Drink tea or have
a bath in the river? The decision is usually taken by the Banarasi pand -s
who spot their victims and will guide them through the city to the sacred
places. But if aspiring tea drinkers are in the majority, even the sacred
language of the pand -s is silenced.

For readers interested in numerology I may add here that sacred

numbers are important in the Indian tradition. They reflect a reality that is
in continuous interaction with its parts. These sacred numbers 3 are
associated with the quantity of sites one encounters on the five different
routes: 144, 108, 72, 72 and 72: a total of 468.
This number, 468, is exactly the sum-total of the 9 planets x the 13
months (including a month which the Hindu calendar adds every third
year!) x the 4 directions.
The number 144 suggests that the 12 macrocosmic zodiacs meet the 12
solar months.
The number 108 refers to the 12 solar months x the 9 planets of Hindu
mythology; or the 27 constellations x the 4 parts of the day (or the 4
directions).
The number 72 is sacred because it is the product of the 12 signs of the
zodiac (or the 12 months) x the 2 hemispheric routes of the sun x the 3
mythical realms of earth, heaven and underworld. And so on, and so on.

No need to panic. At the end of your walk, you can ask for
forgiveness if you lost count of all the deities and layers and numbers.

Remember, you can make up by making a final donation to the

Brahmin in the Jn na V pī pavilion.

3 Based on Rana P.B. Singh:1993, pp. 59ff.

 15

To the utterly at-one with Shiva

there’s no dawn
no new moon
no noonday
no equinoxes
no sunsets
nor full moons.

His front yard

is the true Banaras,

O R man tha.

Dasimayya, Speaking of Shiva, p. 105

 16

3. You are lucky if you die here

“He is my uncle and he has no sons. I had to collect the money to have
him cremated here”, says the young man. I sit at his side on the sand,
watching the cremation of his uncle against the backdrop of a pitch dark
night across the Ganges.”It is too much money for us, but he has to be
cremated here”, he says as the remains of the body collapse and a leg
swings up in the air.

To me the smell on a cremation ground is not inviting. The (male)

members of the family —women don’t go— are apathetic or seem to be
busy with something else than the cremation. One knows of course that
India is the centre of the universe, and Banaras the centre of India, and
this cremation ground the navel of Banaras, but I am not impressed or
overwhelmed with emotions. Perhaps I am temporarily more concerned
with the forests that are cut in northern India to make cremations possible
in Banaras (or anywhere else for that matter). Very thick tree-trunks are
piled up here and with axes and human sweat they are cut to pieces.
Environmental or other material considerations are out of place here.
What happens here is of a different order.

It was not in the Garden of Eden but on this very spot that the
present universe was created. Creation is emanation of energy and energy
is heat and heat is sweat. If you have lived through a summer in Banaras
you know one can sweat there, profusely. Vishnu too shed gallons of
sweat when he emanated energy to create the universe from here. No one
in Banaras will ever sweat as He did in those days. It happened millions of
years ago, in fact long before the Ganges river descended to these parts. A
tank was filled with Vishnu’s sweat and in that tank —every pilgrim
knows and the local pand will remind you—, the ‘jewelled-earring’
(Mani-karnik ) of Shiva fell. Shiva was so elated with the devotion and
commitment of Vishnu that He trembled and lost His earring. It is still
there, some say, and that may be one of the reasons why after every rainy-
season so many volunteers turn up to clean the tank.

Just below the Mani-karnik tank, on the sandy banks of the

Ganges, the uncle was burning to ashes. Were the relatives thinking of
Vishnu and His sweat —and of a new creation— or of Shiva present in
every atom here, or of their own cremation? It is an unforgettable sight.
 17

The only sound you hear is the burning of the wood. Sparks rise high in
the windless air as the Dom attendant rakes up the remaining fire. This is
the place where the origin of the universe took place at the beginning of
time. It is also the spot where the corpse of creation will burn at the end of
time. In the perspective of such a distance in time, what does one corpse
matter, one existence in the ever returning cycle of rebirth? One grieves
for a dead beloved, but Banaras takes you to a different level. Banaras
itself will rise above the total destruction of this universe. It will not be
destroyed when the final cataclysm occurs. Each individual cremation
reminds one of the final universal cremation, the macrocosm symbolically
present in the microcosm.

At the same time a cremation in Banaras reminds you of the final

survival. A cremation is not only a destruction, it is also an act of creation.
What deep layer of our human existence do we touch here? Cremation and
creation. In the Christian tradition it is said:” If the grain does not fall on
the ground and die, it cannot yield results”, or “If you lose your life you
will gain it”. Such paradoxes are present in the oldest history of ancient
India: a sacrifice is a cosmogonic act, a creative act.

I am not sure that every person sitting on the riverbank at Mani-

karnik gh t is aware of this deep symbolism, but I know that this
undercurrent of thought and symbolism is 3,000 years old. It must be a
wisdom that is not reserved for Brahmins and books only. In Vedic
mythology didn’t Praj pati produce creation by the sacrificial
dismemberment of his own body? That story is known to many people in
one way or another. Each sacrifice is a re-creation and thus the world
continues and endures.

“It is”, Jonathan Parry argues, “no coincidence that the most
celebrated cremation ground in India is located on the very site of
Vishnu’s cosmogony, for by entering the pyre here the deceased
revitalises, as it were, the creative heat of Vishnu’s ascetic austerities by
which he engendered the universe. Since cremation is a sacrifice, since
sacrifice regenerates the cosmos, and since the funeral pyres burn without
interruption throughout day and night at Mani-karnik gh t, creation is
continually replayed. Here it is always the beginning of time when the
world was new” (In: Rana P.B. Singh, ed., Banaras. Cosmic order, sacred
city, Hindu traditions, 1993, p. 105).

You cannot imagine a transport that is not used for bringing a

corpse to the centre of the universe, the cremation ground at Mani-karnik
gh t: the shoulders of men, rickshaws, the roof racks of taxis, the tops of
 18

buses, horse-carts, even a cycle pushed by the cyclist. Tied between two
bamboos and wrapped in saffron cloth, the visible remains of a human
existence are brought here for cremation, to be disposed of. Whatever is
not burnt, the turtles in the river and the vultures downstream will be
happy to take care of.
 19

As a mother runs
close behind her child
with his hand on a cobra
or a fire,

the lord of the meeting rivers

stays with me
every step of the way
and looks after me.

Basavanna, Speaking of Shiva, p. 71

 20

4. In death Hindus are not equal

The relatives of the dead are poorer when they leave the cremation
ground. The untouchable Dom-s running and dominating the place get
richer in various ways. They are paid for the wood, they may levy a tax on
each corpse, and they rake the ashes after each cremation to look for
valuables, perhaps a gold tooth or a golden bracelet. In death Hindus are
not equal. The very poor who cannot afford a cremation along the Ganges
‘in the centre of the universe’, are taken to the other side of the Ganges.
That is bad. It is said that there you are denied salvation and you will
come back in the form of an ass. It is my guess that there are many more
poor people in Banaras than asses. No ritual specialist who helps people
on the cremation grounds in Banaras will go to the other side of the
Ganges to officiate there.

Among those who can afford cremation on Mani-karnik or on

Harischandra gh t —the other site used for cremations, upstream— there
are again several categories, with different officiating ritualists and
different rites. Four kinds of people give assistance: the untouchable
Dom-s, the low-caste barbers, the low-caste boatmen and the Mah p tra-s
who are a sub-caste of the Brahmin community in Banaras. These
Mah p tra-s are the funeral priests, from the moment of death till the
tenth day ceremony, for the three upper castes. The low-caste barber is the
officiating priest for the Dom-s and other untouchable communities. At
the same time, however, this barber plays an important part in the death
rituals of all castes: he prepares the chief mourner (preferably a son) to
light the pyre by shaving his head and paring his nails. The barber
likewise shaves all the male relatives. The Dom-s tend the perennial fire
from which all pyres are lit.

The underlying philosophy about ‘soul’ and transmigration is of

course the same for everyone. For ten days the ‘soul’ is transitory and is
called a pret. After the rituals of the tenth day are completed the pret
becomes a pitra (ancestor), and can start its journey that eventually will
end in a new body, a new incarnation, or in liberation if the person died in
Banaras —liberation from the misfortune of having to be reborn in a
material form. On the two burnings gh t-s in Banaras there may be five or
 21

more cremations going on at the same time, sometimes more than one
hundred in one day.

Let me start with the rituals for the untouchables.

Is it an old ritual that connects man to Earth, or is there another reason?

Ancient texts prescribe that a person should not die on his bed; as he is
dying his sons should place him or her on a bed of grass on the ground.
When the person has died, he is placed with his head facing south, outside
the house. If there is a widow, her bangles are broken and her nose-ring
removed. That nose ring and the sindūr powder in the parting of the hair
on the forehead are the auspicious signs of the married status of a woman.
No married woman will touch the widow for ten days. A deceased married
man is wrapped in a white cloth, a married woman in a red cloth, a
deceased widow in white. A virgin is dressed in any colour, but is adorned
as if she were a bride. Gang water and tuls leaf (basil) are placed in the
mouth. Loud drums accompany the body to the Ganges, a custom unique
to the Dom caste. After a final immersion in the river water the corpse is
placed on the pyre and the fire is lit by the eldest son, if there is a son. He
has also to crack the skull with a stick at a particular moment of the
cremation, in order to allow the pret to leave the body. No Vedic hymns
are recited in a Dom funeral!

Mourning and wailing are said to be bad luck for the deceased and
that gives an impression of casual disinterest. Women leave half way into
the burning, which may last several hours. When the cremation is
finished, the barber marks the spot and gives a piece of iron to the chief
mourner to protect him from the pret of the deceased. The chief mourner
also throws water over his left shoulder and walks away, not looking
back. Elsewhere in India the mourners come back after three days to
collect the ‘flowers’ (the bones or ashes). In Banaras the remains are
immersed on the same day.

At death the soul becomes a disembodied ghost or pret. That is a

marginal state dangerous both to itself and to the survivors. For ten days
the ‘soul’ (pret) is very thirsty and eager to come back to its human
existence. Nobody wants that pret to return, people are very scared of it.
For ten days the name of the deceased will not be pronounced, and great
care will be taken to perform the daily rituals. The purpose of those rituals
(called shr ddha or pinda-d n) is to ‘construct’ a body for the deceased
person’s ‘soul’. If no son is present to perform that ritual the deceased can
be badly off. (Thus population control in India has religious
complications!). On the first day of the ritual, the head is ‘made’, then the
 22

arms, and so on. In an identical way, when a baby is born, the body is
‘created’, in a ten-day ritual.

A similar link between death and birth, between destruction and

creation is often seen in the food that is ritually offered for the deceased
on this occasion: the pinda or food offering (rice, sesame, milk, honey and
butter) is explicitly said to be symbolic of human sperm and the milk is
said to be a symbol of the female sexual power. The Dom-s in Banaras fill
a pot with milk, water and honey. They make a tiny hole in the pot and
hang it from a tree to feed the pret. This ‘soul’ is loaded with all the guilt
and reward of the last and previous births, and the quality of the next birth
will depend on that karma, but also on the care the survivors take to
perform all the required rituals. The Dom-s of Banaras give all ten food-
offerings in one day, on the tenth day. Before that day, the chief mourner
has to sleep on the floor and eat only one meal a day. He should not take a
bath or shave. When the ritual of the food-offerings is completed, the pret
becomes a pitra or ancestor. Every Hindu knows, however, that even an
ancestor may remain dangerous for his survivors. He is to be offered
oblations, so that he may grant progeny and prosperity.

A Hindu friend told me one day that he does not bother about the
raised eyebrows of his Western friends when they see the photographs of
his deceased grandparents on the family altar in the house, among the
images of Krishna, Ganesh and so on. If friends ask whether the gods
aren’t higher than one’s family, he retorts: “To me my ancestors are very
important too”.

After the tenth day the survivors can relax, especially the chief
mourner. He was the most vulnerable person with regard to the risk of
possession. He and the widow had to be extremely careful, during the ten
days after the cremation, not to call back the pret of the deceased. A
communal meal is now organized and the chief mourner can be
reintegrated into society. The formal mourning is over and women can
now come and see the widow. Henceforth, the widow will only wear
white sarees. In some conservative Hindu families and often in villages
the death of a young son is attributed to the bad karma of his wife. As a
result, the fate of a widow in India is often worse than in other societies.
In the Dom community of Banaras, however, the widow is encouraged to
remarry. Red bangles are symbolically given to her. (Among the high
castes widow remarriages are rare).

Contrary to the Dom ritual, Vedic hymns are frequently quoted by

the (Brahmin) officiating priest for the funeral rites of caste-Hindus.
 23

The period of pollution —mainly for the chief mourner— varies

according to the caste: ten days for the Brahmins (and untouchables),
twelve days for the second caste (Kshatriya), fifteen days for the business
community (Vaishya) and one month for the Shudra-s. Brahmins are
supposed to make ‘ten’ donations, which are often symbolically reduced
to a sum of money paid to the officiating Mah p tra. He will take care, it
is believed, of the black cow who should lead the dead man across the
river of the dead. Among caste Hindus the corpse is often prepared for the
‘journey’ by blocking all the natural openings of the body with butter. A
dramatic moment in the procedure is also when the widow has to break
her bangles, symbols of her married status, on the corpse. Conservative
Brahmins will bring their own fire in a clay pot from the sacred fire at
home. Of course, in that case, they pay a token sum of money to the Dom.

After the breaking of the skull the chief mourner recites a hymn
from the Rigveda. That prayer may well be more than 3,000 years old.

“These living turn back, separated from the dead.

This day our invocation of the gods became auspicious.
We went forward for dancing, for laughter,
firmly establishing our long life”.

The chief mourner then pours water over his left shoulder and without
looking back he walks away. Back to life! ‘Feeding’ the pret is not
enough! The survivors have also to feed the Brahmins, a minimum of
three, and at least one unknown person. In a way both the chief mourner
and the Brahmins are identified with the deceased person.

It is interesting to note the ‘opposites’ that rule the death rituals

and have their symbolic connections with life and death: right and left
sides of the body, north-south, inside-outside, cooked food and raw.

South is associated with death, and the four cardinal directions

remind one of the four categories of existence: gods (N., E.), ancestors
(W.), men and demons (S.). Ancestors enter the world of the living from
the west or south. Depending on the region in India there is always a
particular day of the month in which one cannot travel in a particular
direction. (It used to be useful to inquire about this if you want to make
sure you have a seat on a train or an airline). And never sleep with your
face turned south: that is how corpses are placed in India. At the time of
marriage it is also imperative to know where the auspicious directions,
north and east, are situated. Practically every temple in India has the main
entrance towards the east.
 24

Death is an event outside human existence. The corpse is placed

outside the house or symbolically on the ground. The survivors do not
enter the house after cremation till the moon is up and after touching cow
dung and iron. Raw food is offered to the pret, in order to cool down his
heat and anger. Once they have become ancestors (pitra), they are given
cooked food (pinda). Every year after the cremation this ritual food is
given, on the rooftop, preferably by the son, while the women watch and
hope that very soon crows will come and consume the food. If no crows
come —that rarely happens, for there are many crows!— it is considered
inauspicious.

In the K shī L bh Mukti Bhavan or ‘Hospice where one obtains

the Benefit of K shī’ near Godulia crossing, those persons are brought
who expect to die within a day or two 4. There is a daily routine that
follows the principle: Dying a good death is as important as living a good
life.

(The translation from Hindi is mine).

1. Instead of a bath in the Ganges, the sick person will be wiped with
Ganges water.
2. Leaves of the tuls plant (basil) and flowers are kept closeby.
3. The sick person will be reminded that worshipping the sun is very
auspicious.
4. The sick person will try to offer water to the tuls plant.
5. The sick person will all the time be reminded that repeating the
name R m is very auspicious.
6. The person will be reminded that the Lord is really with him or
her.
7. It should be possible to burn incense close to the sick person.
8. While the 12th chapter of the Bhagavadg t is read, the sick person
will be invited to drink Ganges water.
9. In the presence of the sick person the Lord will be worshipped all
day.
10. In the vicinity of the sick person there will be a continuous
reading from the Bhagavadg t .
11. For 24 hours a day there will be recitation of the name of God.
12. Repeatedly the sick person will be given Ganges water and tuls
leaves.

4 See the excellent work by C. Justice, Dying the good death. The pilgrimage to die in
India’s holy city.
 25

13. Care will be taken to keep the clothes and the floor under the sick
person clean.
14. Near the head of the sick person a copy of the Bhagavadg t and
pictures of the Lord will be kept.
 26

5. Shiva the Great Lord

Merely visiting the great city of Banaras is not really very worthwhile:
you must stay and live (and die) there. Then you ‘become’ Shiva because
Banaras is his city. Bhuvaneshvar, in Orissa, is another city of Shiva, as
there are many other cities especially associated with the mighty Lord of
the Himalaya.

Most scholars agree that the origin of Shiva should be sought in

the pre-Aryan cult flourishing in India for many centuries before the
arrival of the Aryans, with their Vedic rituals and military supremacy.
Only during the last centuries BC was Shiva given a prominent place in
worship, mythology and temple architecture. But he had always been
present in popular belief, even in the Vedic hymns, with the name Rudra
or ‘the howler’. In contrast with his fierce nature he is later called Shiva,
‘the auspicious one’. As Rudra, in Vedic literature, he punished Brahm
(the Creator) for incest with his daughter, or some other crime, depending
on the tradition.

If we look at Shiva’s ‘biography’, we see that he was first an

ascetic, meditating on the icy peak of Mount Kailash in the Himalaya
(6,714 m. high, in Tibet). Since time immemorial Mount Kailash has been
a goal for hardy pilgrims of the Bön religion, for Jains, Buddhists and
Hindus. [For an account of my trek around Mount Kailash in 1996, see
‘On the Way to Kail s’, in : Winand M. Callewaert, From Chant to Script,
D.K. Printworld, New Delhi, 2013, pp. 159-169]. On many popular
representations today Shiva appears as the Lord of yogis, with long
matted hair, holding a small drum (symbol of his creative power) and a
trident (symbol of his destructive power).

As a result of Tantric influences Shiva is also represented as the

Lord of cremation grounds, wearing a garland of skulls and smeared with
ashes. This should suggest his double nature: terrifying and friendly. His
name is ‘the Friendly One’, but he can be fierce and wild when fighting
evil and demons: Mysterium Tremendum et Fascinens. Is it because of
this double character of Shiva that his worshippers —or theologians?—
managed to incorporate in the person of Shiva many autochthonal
religious elements?
 27

The fact is, Shiva cannot be described. His most adequate

representation is the lingam. For those who worship him as a lingam, they
say, he does appear in a human form. Perhaps because of the competitive
development and popularity of Buddhism in the last centuries BC we see
that the myths and representations of Vishnu and his Descents (avt r), and
also of Shiva, take on a more human form, closer to the understanding and
level of the common man. The original cylindrical form of the phallus
makes way for a human representation.

There is no certainty about the period when Shiva was for the first
time represented as a lingam or phallus. It most probably occurred before
he was sculpted as a human figure. You find the lingam all over India, in
temples, in homes or under a tree: hundreds of thousands of
representations, in all sizes. One can see Shiva as a lingam in Indonesia
too, in temples more than 1,000 years old. Even the first human
representations of Shiva are still associated with the lingam, when he is
represented as appearing in the lingam (lingodbhava).

Shiva is also called Mah dev or the Great God. He transcends any
notion we could form of the divine. He wields dangerous weapons and he
blesses at the same time, for he has many hands. He lives outside human
imagination, on the fringe of society, high up in the mountains. He does
not care about ritual purity, he walks around naked or clad in a tiger-skin.
Snakes and skulls hang around his neck and when he comes down from
his mountain, he prefers to hang around on cremation-grounds. He rides a
bull (Nandi) and carries a trident. He has no royal lineage or possessions
like Vishnu and his avt r-s.

But then it happened. The beautiful P rvatī falls in love with the
strange ascetic. In order to win his favour P rvatī starts the most severe
penance. And she has to pass tests: sages come and tell her that in fact
Shiva is too ugly for her, he has no clothes, no proper family, no noble
company. She should marry Vishnu, he is the proper bridegroom for her.
P rvatī knows better and she replies that Shiva does not care for all these
things, precisely because he is the supreme Brahm himself. His inner
being is much more gracious and attractive than we can imagine.

In the myths and stories (2000 years old?) we hear that one day
Shiva came down from his icy spot on Mount Kailash in the Himalaya and
married the pretty ‘daughter of the mountains’, P rvatī. (In the meantime
Sati had committed suicide). For long nights over many centuries the
bards narrated how the love story developed and how the ascetic Shiva
 28

became a householder, a man with a family and with human feelings.

Sculptors did not know what to carve first and early cave temples give us
many representations of idyllic scenes of the domestic life of Shiva and
his bride: Shiva the Terrifying had come close to the worshipper.

Where could he find a home for his wife and children? He looked
all over the world and the most suitable place was selected: Banaras ‘with
its beautiful gardens and woods’. Shiva the mountain-god, god of ascetics
and yogis became not only a husband in love, he also became a city-
dweller. Of course, Banaras was only a village then, but a most splendid
place because... Here the local priest takes over and paints a picture of the
greatness of the paradisiacal Banaras in those days, when there was no
river Ganges yet!, and then proceeds to tell the pilgrims why and how the
river Gang came down on earth.

King S gar had by his first wife a son, called Asamanjas, and by his
second wife he had 60.000 sons, each one of them a vicious scoundrel. All
these sons terrorized the gods.

This is a perpetual theme in Indian mythology: tension between good and

evil, symbolized in gods and demons.

One day king S gar decides to organize a Horse-Sacrifice (ashva-medha

5). For this a ritual horse is let loose for one year. At the end of the year it
is sacrificed. The territory covered by the horse in that one year becomes
the property of the king who has organized the Sacrifice. The Vedic god
Indra, however, thought he should spoil the fun and he hides the horse in
the underworld.
All the vicious sons of the king try to track down the horse and eventually
end up at the hermitage of the ascetic Kapil. Suspecting him of hiding the
horse they try to kill him, but with his yogic powers the ascetic turns them
all into ashes. This is a great tragedy because they are cremated without
the proper ancestor-ritual, and cannot be saved.
Fortunately, after a few generations, one of the descendants of
those vicious sons becomes a very powerful ascetic. His name is
Bhag rath. He obtains the boon that the goddess Gang herself is ready
to take the form of a river, and to flow over the ashes and thus to perform
the ritual oblations required at a cremation. She would thus quench the
thirst of all the ghosts of the 60,000 deceased scoundrels. But there is a
big problem! The form which the goddess Gang takes is so gigantic that
the impact of her descent on the earth —on the way to the underworld—
5 In Banaras Brahm performed ten horse-sacrifices, after which the main gh t is
called dash-ashvamedha gh t.
 29

will destroy the earth! Lord Shiva, in his great mercy, is found ready to
spread his hair over the earth so that Gang can pass over it without
destroying it.

And that is the origin of the holy Ganges, with its numerous sacred sites
in Banaras and elsewhere. Often, in the bronze (and other) representations
of Shiva as ‘King of the Dance’ (nat-r j), we see the sweet goddess
Ganges sitting in his locks. That is a symbol of his mercy and a
mythological explanation for the descent of the river onto the earth. The
pand in Banaras will remind us that the history of Banaras began long
before the river Ganges started to flow here, in days long past when
ascetics like Bhagīrath practised severe penance. What then are a mere
3,000 years of human history?

In a later development another insight will develop. Shiva cannot

even be described in human categories: he is half-man half-woman. Shiva
is also the Teacher of yoga, music, knowledge and of the Sacred Books.
And most important: he is the god of the dance. In Sanskrit literature we
find beautiful descriptions of Shiva dancing. All the gods are then said to
be watching in ecstasy, clapping their hands. He dances at dusk, when the
only shining light is the crescent moon on his forehead. He turns so
quickly and whirls his arms around with such speed that the sighs of the
wind are echoed by all mountains and valleys. Shiva dances on every
important occasion in his life or in the evolution of the cosmos. On earth,
every human dancer participates in that cosmic dance of Shiva and makes
it visible to us.

In the friezes and sculptures of the ancient temples we often see

Shiva in a human form, illustrating a particular myth, emphasizing his
superiority over the demons and over the other gods. The power to destroy
demons and evil is an important characteristic of Shiva, but it is not his
only quality or his monopoly. It is not correct to associate only one
specific quality with each of the gods in the triad, like creation with
Brahm , preservation with Vishnu and destruction with Shiva. For the
worshipper Shiva is, perhaps mainly, the destroyer of evil, but he also
creates and protects.
 30

Like
treasure hidden in the ground
taste in the fruit
gold in the rock
oil in the seed

the Absolute hidden away

in the heart

no one can know

the ways of our lord

white as jasmine.

Mahadeviyakka, Speaking of Shiva, p. 115.

 31

6. “Worship me as lingam”, says Shiva. Why?

The best known image of Shiva —apart from the dancing Shiva in a circle
of fire— is the lingam or phallus stone. There is perhaps no place on earth
where the worship of the phallus has been so widespread and so
influential in religious development as in India. Each village has its
lingam-s, and in cities like Banaras or Bhuvaneshvar there are thousands
of them. There are twelve special lingam-s, on the remotest borders of the
subcontinent. One is in Somnath, in western Gujarat, in a magnificent
temple which was partly destroyed in 1024 by Muhammad of Ghazni. The
lingam was removed to serve as a pillar in a new building. On the other
border of India, in Bhuvaneshvar (Orissa), a Buddhist Ashoka pillar was
installed in a temple as a huge lingam. Most lingam-s have been installed
by worshippers, but some have originated by themselves, when ‘Shiva
himself appeared in the form of a stone and demanded worship’. These are
the rare svayambhū (‘self-born’) lingam-s.

The female energy or Shakti of Shiva is also part of the lingam, in

the form of a yoni (vulva) on which the lingam rests. The water that in
worship drips on the top of the lingam comes down and goes along the
yoni into a channel as amrit or elixir. Devotees cherish it as holy water.
British chronicles of the 18th century refer to a Hindu belief that the black
stone in the Kaaba, Mecca, was in fact a lingam carried off by the
Moslems. Hilltops (near Tiruvannamalai in Tamil Nadu) and mountain
peaks (Kailash) attract many pilgrims who worship them as lingam-s.

It may well be that the origin of the worship of the phallus stone
has to be sought in pre-Vedic times, but the earliest lingam-s are
apparently of the 2nd century BC. Possibly also the myths explaining the
worship of the lingam have to be dated to that period. These myths may
have been an effort of orthodox Brahmanism to incorporate non-Vedic
worship. In the Pur n literature (6th century BC and later) we learn why
Shiva is worshipped in the lingam. There is first the myth of the self-
castration of Shiva:

A long period of existence has passed and the cosmos is destroyed.

Everything falls asleep. One day, Brahm , Vishnu and Shiva emerge
quietly from the cosmic waters and decide that a new creation has to
start. Who will do that job of creation? A long fruitless discussion
 32

follows. Shiva is appointed to create and he goes down into the cosmic
water, but does not appear again for countless ages. Brahm ’s patience
runs out and he requests Vishnu to start a new creation. Heavens, planets,
gods and demons, the earth, and so on are created by Vishnu.
When all is complete Shiva appears again. He is so frustrated with the
beautiful creation brought about by Vishnu that he spits out a gigantic
fire destroying everything. Convinced also that his penis, symbol of his
male creative power, is useless, he cuts it off and hurls it at the earth.
The penis penetrates the earth and rises very high in the heavens.
Vishnu descends into the earth to find the beginning of the penis and
Brahm flies up into the skies to find the end, but neither can find it. Shiva
then proclaims: “Whoever shall worship my lingam, will have all his
desires fulfilled”. Instantly, Brahm and Vishnu kneel down to worship
Shiva.

There is also a slightly different version for the second part of the story:

The lingam took the form of a gigantic column of fire that afflicted the
earth. Brahm realized that the column could only be removed if all the
gods gathered to worship P rvat (Shiva’s wife), with the request to take
the column into her yoni (vulva). P rvat agreed to extinguish the fire in
that way and therefore, everywhere, the lingam is represented on top of
the yoni.

The same myth is also given in the context of a rivalry between Brahm
and Vishnu, and explains the Lingodbhav sculptures of ‘Shiva appearing
as a person in the lingam’.

One day Brahm comes to Vishnu who is sleeping on the cosmic snake
Shesh and asks him why he is (still) sleeping. Vishnu replies calmly:
“Welcome, my son Brahm ”. Brahm goes into a rage because Vishnu
calls him ‘my son’. He reminds him of his titles: supreme god, creator,
omnipresent, eternal and so on. Vishnu is quite awake by now and says
that these titles are also his own. The discussion turns into a fierce
argument and the whole cosmos trembles. Then Shiva appears, with the
brilliance of a thousand suns. He says that whoever is first to find the end
of his lingam shall be proclaimed the supreme god. Shiva takes the form
of a gigantic lingam. It is agreed that Vishnu will go down to look for the
end of the lingam and that Brahm will search in the heavens. Neither
succeeds in finding the end of the lingam. They fall on their knees before
Shiva, who emerges ‘as a person’ from the lingam.
 33

Other bards, possibly more than two thousand years ago, offer another
vivid version of the castration of Shiva:

Imagine the slopes of the Himalaya, where the forests are green and the
water clean. A group of ascetics have found a fine place there to meditate
in seclusion and to practice penance. Some eat only grass, others stand
for one year on one toe or sit down squatting forever. Others walk around
naked or live like wild animals. One day a funny person appears, looking
horrible and talking nonsense. The wives of the sages fall in love with
Shiva, who makes wild sexual overtures. This disturbs the peace of mind
of the ascetics, who fail to recognize Shiva in him. With the magical
power acquired through asceticism, they curse him: “You will never have
any offspring. May your penis just drop off!”. This happens, but only after
Shiva announces that he agrees that his lingam should fall off.
The lingam penetrates the earth and rises high up into the
heavens. All the earth trembles. Brahm rushes to Vishnu for an
explanation. Vishnu has already been informed that the fall of Shiva’s
penis is the cause of the commotion and they go and look at the place of
the accident. Vishnu descends into the underworld and Brahm mounts
his swan to fly into the heavens but they cannot find the end of the lingam.
Finally Shiva appears and promises to stop the earthquakes if the gods
and men vow to worship him in the form of a phallus. Vishnu and Brahm
agree and guarantee that the gods and men will follow suit.

In yet another story P rvatī is part of the tragedy, as a woman with a

husband without a penis. She is as badly off as the universe without the
male creative power of Shiva. Gods and men join hands to find Shiva and
he agrees to appear again if his lingam will be worshipped. Bards in the
tradition of Vishnu worshippers have the following version, in which the
superiority of Vishnu is emphasized: .

All the great ascetics of the world have gathered in a conference, with
only one point on the agenda: Which god (Brahm , Shiva or Vishnu) can
grant the ultimate realization? After long debates and arguments of all
kinds, no agreement can be reached. Finally, they appoint the senior-most
ascetic, called Bhrigu, to go and visit the three gods and to decide who is
the superior god. When he arrives in the Himalayas, at the gate of Shiva’s
residence, Bhrigu is rudely stopped by the security guards, because Shiva
and P rvat are making love and cannot be disturbed. Bhrigu has to wait
for ages. He loses his patience and curses Shiva: “On earth you will only
be worshipped as a lingam on a yoni, and your ritual water will not be
touched by Brahmans”. When Shiva hears the curse he rises to attack the
 34

mighty ascetic Bhrigu, but P rvat is able to stop him to avoid greater
disaster.

In this way the lingam of Shiva became an object of worship on earth.

For hunger,
there is the town’s rice in the begging bowl.

For thirst,
there are tanks, streams and wells.

For sleep,
there are the ruins of the temples.

For soul’s company,

I have you, O lord
white as jasmine

Mahadeviyakka, Speaking of Shiva, p. 132.

 35

7. Bhairav, or Shiva as ‘police chief’ of Banaras.

After a five hour drive from Kathmandu you arrive at the ‘Bridge of
Friendship’ at Zhangmu and you enter Tibet (now occupied by China).
You leave a half Hindu, half Buddhist land and driving up the steep
muddy road through an unusually beautiful canyon, you are in Buddhist
Tibet. After another four hours, at an altitude of 3,900 meters, you find on
the right side of the road the Cave of Milarepa. This mystic, magician and
prolific ‘writer’ (ca. 1400 AD) won a contest on top of Mount Kailash in
western Tibet and thus contributed to the supremacy of Buddhism over
the Bön religion. The temple associated with the legendary cave has
survived the onslaught of the Chinese cultural revolution and is only one
example of a remarkable phenomenon all over Tibet: among the Buddhist
deities venerated in the temple, Mah k l Bhairav (the ‘Black Terror’, or
Vajra Bhairav in the Gelugpa sect) is very prominent! (K l means both
Death and Fate or Time, in addition to meaning Black). Drive another four
days to lake M nsarovar ‘at the foot’ of Mount Kailash and visit the Chiu
temple, or go to Lhasa, or anywhere in Tibet: Bhairav is worshipped as
protector.

But isn’t he a Hindu god?

Four thousand meters lower, in the desert of Rajasthan, you can

visit the exquisite jewel of the temple in Ranakpur. A Jain temple
dedicated to the Jain Tirth nkara-s. When you look at the main shrine,
you see on the right side a frightening sculpture, covered with thin layers
of silver(paper). No Jain pilgrim will omit to worship this deity. It is
Bhairav! Bhairav, the ‘guardian-police chief’ (kotw l) of Banaras! Many
Hindu villagers in Rajasthan worship him as Bhairu. Who is this god, who
craves and receives offerings of home-brewed liquor and who acts as the
possessing power in priests who function as ritualists in temples devoted
to Vishnu? They call him the ‘K shī-dweller’.

And there is more. Bhairav enjoys a cult among tribals (in

Maharasthra) who are outside the Hindu cultural limits, thus becoming an
instrument of Hinduization of tribal deities. In Nepal, and in Bali, Bhairav
is identified with Bhīm, the hero of the Mah bh rat epic, and in Indian
history he has been associated with the terrifying deities who were
worshipped with tantric practices, including even human sacrifices. In
 36

Nepal Bhairav is practically the national god, very prominently present in

festivals that include possession and bloody rites.

But who is Bhairav who is so popular, even outside the Indian

subcontinent? And is it sheer coincidence that tradition associates him
very strongly with Banaras? For me, he is one of the many approaches to
understanding Banaras, and Hinduism in general. Omit to visit one of the
(or preferably all eight) temples of Bhairav in Banaras, and you are really
in for trouble. In the small K l-Bhairav temple near the Town Hall, only
the silver face of Bhairav, garlanded with flowers, is visible, but that is
sufficient to ask for his help in warding off all evil! You cannot fail to
note that the vehicle of Bhairav is a (despicable) dog. In most temples
Bhairav’s face is hidden behind a silver mask, but occasionally you can
see a sculpture where he is seen in full size, with a moustache, a club (of
peacock feathers) and a garland of skulls.

His origin is explained in a myth, that means in a (hi)story that has

value for all times and all places. A myth is both an experience and a
message that go beyond the hic et nunc description of the story. Myths are
the backbone of the greatness of Banaras, and of Hinduism in general.
Neglect to read the myths or to listen to them while you are in Banaras,
and your experience will be very limited, say the pand -s in Banaras who
make a living telling myths to the pilgrims.

The myth of Bhairav is about a god of transgression, a god who

goes one step too far, and who suffers the consequences. The Semitic
tradition worships One God, with many different aspects. The Hindu
tradition makes a god, a person of each of these aspects. The result of the
vivid imagery of the Hindu tradition is the densely populated Hindu
pantheon.

Let us now listen to the myth of Bhairav, which also extols the
greatness of the shrine at K p l-vimochan in Banaras, where the skull of
Brahm finally fell off Shiva’s finger. It should be remembered that
‘cutting off one of Brahm ’s heads’ is equal to the murder of a Brahmin!

“One day Brahm and Vishnu were arguing, each saying that he was the
supreme god. All of a sudden a great light appeared between them,
illuminating the earth and the heavens —a fiery lingam according to
some accounts—, and a man appeared within it, three-eyed and adorned
with snakes. Brahm ’s fifth head said to the man:
 37

‘I know who you are. You are Rudra [a Vedic name for Shiva],
whom I created from my forehead. Take refuge with me and I
will protect you, my son.’

When Shiva heard this proud speech he blazed with anger, and his anger
engendered a man, Bhairav, whom Shiva commanded:
‘Punish this lotus-born god named Brahm ’.
Bhairav cut off Brahm ’s [fifth] head with the tip of the nail of his
left thumb, for whatever limb offends must be punished. Then Brahm and
Vishnu were terrified, and they praised Shiva, who was pleased and said
to Bhairav:
‘You must honour Vishnu and Brahm , and carry Brahm ’s skull.’
Then Shiva created a maiden named ‘Brahminicide’ [‘Brahmin-murder’!]
and said to her:
‘Follow Bhairav until he arrives at the holy city of Banaras, after
wandering about, begging for alms with this skull and teaching the world
the vow that removes the sin of Brahmin-slaying. You cannot enter
Banaras, so leave him there’.
Shiva vanished and Bhairav wandered over the earth, pursued by
Brahminicide. He went to Vishnu, who gave him alms and said to
Brahminicide:
‘Release Bhairav’, but she said: ‘By serving him constantly under this
pretext [of haunting him for his sin], I will purify myself so that I will not
be reborn.’
Then Bhairav entered Banaras with her still at his left side, and she cried
out and went to hell. The skull of Brahm fell from Bhairav’s hand and
became the shrine at K p lavimochan [‘Liberation of the skull’] at
Banaras.

There are very vivid representations of this episode in Hindu iconography.

In one bloody image Shiva grasps by its hair the severed head of Brahm
whose dripping blood is greedily swallowed by Bhairav’s dog. Bhairav is
also represented naked, or wearing a tiger or an elephant skin, with a
garland of human skulls and snakes around his neck and arms, and
dragging a corpse or skeleton on his shoulders. In a milder form, he is
depicted as a roaming mendicant, as we can hear in the continuation of the
story.

The story of Shiva Bhīksh tan (Mendicant) is a fine example of

sectarian competition between the followers of Shiva and the devotees of
Brahm or of Vishnu. I only give a summary here but depending on the
time you have, the local pand can make this story very spicy! In this
version it is Vishnu who plays an important role.
 38

After Shiva had committed the hideous crime of cutting off one of
Brahm ’s heads Brahm recommended as a penance that Shiva should
become a wandering ascetic and beg for food in the top of a skull, till the
day when Vishnu would appear and tell him how exactly Shiva could
atone for his sin. Shiva wandered around and all the women on the way
fell in love with him. He went to Vishnu’s heaven but was not allowed to
enter. So he killed the security guard, thus adding another sin to the
previous one. With the guard impaled on his trident Shiva entered the
residence of Vishnu, who told him that he should go to Banaras to be
purified of his sins by a ritual bath in the Ganges.

In this way we enter the glorious city of Banaras, centre of the Hindu
universe, where Bhairav is worshipped as the ‘guardian of territorial
limits’. In most temples on the subcontinent where Bhairav is
conspicuously present, his ritual has become purely brahmanical, but in
the festivals of Bhairav the dynamics of the myth of Brahminicide is very
prominent.

Scholars have pointed out that in Banaras the origin of Bhairav

has to be sought among the very early deities of Hindu folk tradition,
called gana-s: potbellied, frightful deities who became the servants of
Shiva and acted as guardians to scare away demons and evil spirits. In the
myth of Brahminicide it is Shiva who created Bhairav out of his anger.

There, Bhairav is a manifestation of Shiva’s terrible aspect.

Sometimes Bhairav is (like Ganesh) called a son of Shiva, and in

Banaras he is occasionally also called an avt r (‘descent’ or incarnation)
of Shiva. Although he is worshipped as a distinct deity all over South and
Southeast Asia, Bhairav is generally said to be an aspect of Shiva. To the
western mind it may seem amazing of course that Bhairav, an aspect of
Shiva, has to go on pilgrimage to Banaras, the city of Shiva, to atone for
his sin of Brahminicide! Already in the first century AD it is suggested
that the only way to get rid of the worst of sins —killing a Brahman— is
‘to go around begging, with a skull as begging bowl, for twelve years’.

Shiva himself appointed Bhairav to be the chief officer of justice

within the sacred city. Diana Eck aptly summarizes his function:

“First, he is said to devour sins, thus earning the name “Sin-Eater”. He is

vividly described as stationed by the bank of the K p l-vimochan Tīrtha,
 39

consuming the sins that people shed there. The one freed from the worst
sin now devours the sins of others.
Second, Kala Bhairav is the one who keeps the record of people’s deeds
in K shī. Those who dwell elsewhere on earth are watched by
Chitragupta, the mythical scribe who takes notes on their doings. But
Chitragupta keeps no records on those who dwell in K shī. K l Bhairav
takes care of that. Therefore it is of great importance to keep in Kala
Bhairav’s favor. According to tradition, he should be honored by all who
visit V r nasī: “Even devotees of Vishvan th, who are not devotees of
Bhairav, encounter a multitude of obstacles in K shī at every single step”.
It is said that whoever lives in V r nasī and does not worship Bhairav
accumulates a heap of sins that grows like the waxing moon.
Finally, Bhairav not only scrutinizes the activities of the living, he also
administers justice to those who have died. Here Bhairav assumes the
duties of Yama, the God of Death, who is not allowed to enter K shī to
fetch and punish souls. While all who die in K shī are promised
liberation, they must first experience, in an intensified time frame, all the
results —good and bad— of their accumulated karma. This is called the
“punishment of Bhairav”, and its dispensation is an important part of
Bhairav’s function in the city. This punishment given by Bhairav is said
to last but a split second and to be a kind of time machine in which one
experiences all the rewards and punishments that might otherwise be lived
out over the course of many lifetimes. It is the experience of purgatory,
run through in an instant, and K la Bhairav is in charge of it”

(Banaras. City of Light, pp. 192-193).

Worship of the ‘divine’ in the form of the terrible Bhairav may

have its origin in the awareness that God destroys all evil, evil in society
and evil in each individual. This worship, however, has led to practices of
the kind that inspired the scriptwriter of ‘Indiana Jones and the Temple of
Doom’: disgusting ‘ritual’ food and human sacrifices. In documents
dating back more than a thousand years we find descriptions of such
practices and rituals. Sects like the K lamukha-s, the K p lika-s (‘Skull
bearers)’ —and more recently and in a milder way the Aghorī-s who have
a temple in Banaras— taught that the means of obtaining all desired
results in this world as well as in the next are constituted by certain
practices: using a skull as a drinking vessel, smearing oneself with the
ashes of a dead body, eating the flesh of such a body, eating meat,
drinking liquor and even offering human sacrifices in order to obtain
magic powers.
 40

Through initiation in the sect of Skull bearers, men of different

castes could become Brahmans at once. Such ascetics, worshippers of
Bhairav, were reported to be walking around naked, smeared with funeral
ashes, armed with a trident or a sword, carrying a hollow skull for a cup or
begging bowl. They were said to be half-intoxicated with the liquor they
drink from the hollow skull.

The purpose of such asceticism may have been only partly in order
to expiate sins committed in this or previous births. The main purpose was
to acquire spiritual powers, by ritual identification with the asceticism of
Shiva. People used to be scared of such ascetics because sometimes they
would commit acts of violence and even harass young women. Such
behaviour definitely existed but remained a rare phenomenon in the forest
of Hindu asceticism.

It has no doubt been the basis for all kinds of extravagant and
spicy reports and stories.
 41

Monkey on monkey man’s stick

puppet at the end of a string

I’ve played as you’ve played

I’ve spoken as you’ve told me
I’ve been as you’ve let me be

O engineer of the world

lord white as jasmine

I’ve run
till you cried halt.

Mahadeviyakka, Speaking of Shiva, p. 117.

 42

8. Weavers of Banaras

Not all Banaras is about Shiva and liberation. There is more than meets
the eye. There are for instance the thousands of weavers, many of whom
have to live on an unbelievably small monthly income. They usually have
large families, are usually Moslem and live in narrow alleys and
overcrowded houses. According to the 1872 Census there were 1,185
‘silk-weavers’ and 3,670 ‘weavers’ in Banaras. A study made in 1981
revealed that there were 150,000 ‘silk-weavers’ and 500,000 ‘people
engaged in the silk industry’ directly or indirectly.

Nita Kumar noted in the early 1980s:

“At a typical wedding in a poor weaver’s family that I witnessed, the

total expenditure was under Rs. 100. The only spatial preparation
was the hanging up of a used sheet to divide the largest room in the
house for the separate use of ladies and gentlemen. The only
refreshments served were pan and tea -with additional milk and
cream for honoured guests, such as the sardar, the mauvli, and, as
happened, the researcher. The dowry consisted of an aluminium pot,
pan, dish, and cup, and a little token cash. the whole public ceremony
was over in half an hour” 6.

And yet, adds the researcher,

the hospitality in most families is amazing. Their basic food is lentils

and rice and bread, with occasionally a vegetable, which means a
potato! Yet, the silk weaving in Banaras has for centuries been the
backbone of the local economy, rivalled only perhaps by the income
from pilgrims to the Hindu sites. With a threefold increase of the
population of Banaras over the last 100 years, there may have been at
least a tenfold increase of the number of people engaged in the
weaving industry.

6 Much interesting information about weavers in Banaras may be found in Nita Kumar,
The Artisans of Banaras: Popular culture and identity, 1880-1986, Princeton
University press, New Jersey, 1988. Quotation from p. 15.
 43

One Moslem weaver from Banaras is known all over India. He lived
around 1450. His religious songs and terse sayings have been translated
into many languages. Even many south Indians not too familiar with
Hindi will know some of his verses. His name is Kabīr. I doubt whether
all the verses attributed to him in even critical editions are all by Kabīr,
but one thing is certain. What he saw he said, and what he said he said
strongly. He was often abusive, at times deeply mystical, always
impressive. I quote from an ancient collection of Kabīr’s sayings, called
the B jak, superbly rendered into English by Linda Hess. (Linda Hess and
Shukdev Singh, The Bijak of Kab r, North Point Press, San Francisco,
1983, p. 42.)

Is this description of Banaras appropriate only for 1450-1500, the time of

Kabīr?

Saints, I see the world is mad.

If I tell the truth they rush to beat me,
if I lie they trust me.
I've seen the pious Hindus, rule-followers,
early morning bath-takers --
killing souls, they worship rocks.
They know nothing.
I've seen plenty of Moslem teachers, holy men
reading their holy books
and teaching their pupils techniques.
They know just as much.
And posturing yogis, hypocrites,
hearts crammed with pride,
praying to brass, to stones, reeling
with pride in their pilgrimage,
fixing their caps and their prayer-beads,
painting their brow-marks and arm-marks,
braying their hymns and their couplets,
reeling. They never heard of soul.
The Hindu says Ram is the Beloved,
the Turk says Rahim.
They kill each other.
No one knows the secret.
They buzz their mantras from house to house,
puffed with pride.
The pupils drown along with their gurus.
In the end they're sorry.
Kabīr says, listen saints:
 44

they're all deluded!

Whatever I say, nobody gets it.
It's too simple.

The simple message of Kabīr, then and now, is clearly formulated in the
song I quote from Hawley's fine rendering of a few selected songs (p. 50):

Go naked if you want,

Put on animal skins,
What does it matter till you see the inward Ram?
If the union yogis seek
came from roaming about in the buff,
every deer in the forest would be saved.
If shaving your head
Spelled spiritual success,
heaven would be filled with sheep.
And brother, if holding back your seed
Earned you a place in paradise,
eunuchs would be the first to arrive.
Kabīr says: Listen brother,
Without the name of Ram
who has ever won the spirit's prize?

Kabīr called himself, 500 years ago, a jul h and in 17th century
biographies too he is called a jul h or weaver. The vast majority of the
weavers of Banaras today are Moslems, but they no longer call themselves
jul h . They call themselves and their companions Ansari-s. This name,
Ansari, resembles a Hindu caste name in that it refers to an endogamous
group traditionally associated with an occupation. In most Indian villages
there are of course the Hindu jul h -s, who are termed ‘backward’ and are
at the bottom of the Hindu caste hierarchy. But there appear to be no
remnants of such a Hindu caste among the weavers of Banaras.

The 15 odd% ‘Hindu’ weavers now working in the city come from
the villages and usually live there as well. The (silk) weaving industry is
generally a Moslem, Ansari, monopoly. Why this should be is not clear to
researchers. Were they all converts from a Hindu weaving caste, centuries
ago? Or did the Moslem ‘invaders’ bring the technology of (silk) weaving
as a jealously guarded secret?

In any case the weaving ancestors of the contemporary Ansaris

produced silk fabrics somewhere in India from 500 BC onward. As is the
case for so many items, for silk too we have in Sanskrit several names.
 45

Some of these words (like kausheya) definitely refer to the cocoon of the
silkworm (Panini’s grammar, ca. 400 BC). In the Mah bh rat and the
R m yan silk fabrics ‘as soft as the lotus’ are referred to on several
occasions, and the lawgiver Manu (ca. 200 BC?) warns you: if you steal
silk cloth you will be reborn as a partridge. One wonders how he knew!

There are ancient enough testimonies, but they do not compare in

antiquity with the references found in Chinese history, going back to
3,000 BC. The Chinese, it is reported, jealously guarded their secret with
death by torture for the traitor who revealed the technology (especially of
the cocoon breeding) to outsiders. If the technology was in turn not
invented in India, it may be one of the earliest cases of successful business
spying. According to one story, cocoons were smuggled from China to
India in the bouffant hair of a bride married abroad! From the 15th century
onward, we read in inventories and accounts that the Mughal emperors
ordered thousands of silk dresses and robes to be made for their imperial
household or to be given to foreign visitors.

Like diamonds, silk has a special place in the imagination of

people all over the world. Different qualities are ascribed to it, from
protection against skin diseases to being a non-conductor during
thunderstorms. Concerned with cleanliness, Hindus have declared silk to
be free of pollution. It is ‘washed by the air’ and can be worn a number of
times. Its cooling effect in a hot climate is well known. In several Hindu
communities silk must be worn during a wedding-ceremony (never wear a
black coat if you are invited!).

The pure and auspicious silk sought by Hindus for their gods and
their rituals is all woven by Moslems! Why Banaras of all places? The
Banaras climate is not favourable to silkworm breeding. Do we find here
an exceptional interaction between the religious and commercial? Banaras
has been an important religious centre for more than two millennia.
Although its modern importance is mainly due to a nationalist form of
Hinduism renascent over the last three centuries, it has always been a very
important centre for pilgrims. As the slogan ‘die in Banaras and ensure
immediate liberation’ was subtly spread all over India, it became the
second home for princes, nobility and intellectuals from all over India,
spending their last years in Banaras. Thus, commercial activity was
stimulated in a place already conveniently located on trade routes.

There was an infrastructure of banking and money lending. Like any

important religious place anywhere in the world, Banaras attracted money.
 46

Money is business and it was spent on the sheer craftsmanship required

for the production of the now famous Banarasi sari.

In many back alleys of the inner city you can see the precursor of
the computer, the Jacquard loom, which is a set of perforated cards that
direct the weaving of complicated patterns.

It is known that the labour-intensive silk production involves some

twenty-nine different specialised jobs to be performed by different
workers before the finished sari dazzles the eyes of the customer. There is
the dyer, the designer, the polisher and the weavers. But also the loom
maker, the bobbin winder, and the pattern picker who is the woman who
cuts off connecting threads at the back of the sari to make the jacquard
design stand out more sharply. All these manual contributions are
included in the price of the sari, and often the weaver’s salary is in inverse
proportion to the fabulous prices asked for a sari in the shop. Even the
tour guide gets his cut if he brings in customers, especially foreigners.

Technological change in the work and the lives of the Banarasi

weavers has been minimal. They are a tight social community in which
trends toward liberalisation are less important than the maintenance of
traditional values. Women and girls are kept strictly in ‘pard ’ (lit. ‘veil’)
or seclusion, and there are many, often too many, children for the month’s
salary. The back alleys they live and work in are narrow, often filthy and
unhygienic.

But the promotion of the Banarasi sari elegantly hides this when
the glittering brocade of a sari is displayed before you.
 47

Like a silkworm weaving

her house with love
from her marrow,
and dying
in her body’s threads
winding tight, round
and round
I burn
desiring what the heart desires.
Cut through, O lord,
my heart’s greed,
and show me
your way out,

O lord white as jasmine.

Mahadeviyakka, Speaking of Shiva, p. 116.

I love the Handsome One:

he has no death
decay nor form
no place or side
no end nor birthmarks.
I love him O mother. Listen.
I love the Beautiful One
with no bond nor fear
no clan no land
no landmarks
for his beauty.
So my lord, white as jasmine, is my husband.
Take these husbands who die,
decay, and feed them
to your kitchen fires!

Speaking of Shiva, p. 105.

 48

9. Ganesh, ‘son’ of Shiva

Ganesh places obstacles and removes them. He is the most popular deity
in Maharashtra, where he is called Ganpati. He is invoked by students
before their exams and every merchant will start his new account-book
with a prayer to him. Ganesh likes sweets and he dances on one leg; he
has the head of an elephant and a fat stomach. His cunning eyes look at
you from either side of his trunk and although he does not appear very
attractive he is a deity who softens the heart of many. More than his head
is bizarre; his arms are too short, his stomach is out of proportion, hanging
above his plump legs. He reminds one of the numerous semi-demon
figures in ancient temples, or the dwarfs supporting beams in the Buddhist
stupa at Sanchi. His corpulence is a real handicap and with his elephant’s
head he cannot manage to hide his real origin. He has suffered a lot, like
us humans.

It is his job, everywhere, to protect the entry and the exit of a

space, and of life-cycles. He does that in the merchant’s house, for the bus
driver, and also in Banaras. Here he is the protector of the sacred space.

Around the centre of the universe in the centre of Banaras, there

are seven sacred circles. The smallest circle encompasses the highest
sanctity, the ‘golden’ temple of Vishvan th. The pilgrim in Banaras passes
through seven protective circles before entering the inner sanctum. On
each of the seven circles there are 8 shrines of Ganesh: a total of 56. Here
too we find a cosmic symbolism, because the cosmos too has 7 layers and
the mythical mountain Meru is surrounded by seven oceans. Doesn’t also
yoga teach that the energy of the disciple has to pass through 7 nerve-
centres (chakra-s) before giving the yogic ecstasy?

Ganesh takes us back to the earliest layers of religiosity in ancient

India. There have always been —in ancient Greece, Egypt and
Mesopotamia— gods with the head of an animal or a bird. In most cases,
however, those gods —in their religious evolution— tried to get rid of the
animal part of their body and usually the animal head was the last part to
be ‘humanized’. Ganesh keeps his elephant head and reminds us of the
presence of the elephant in ancient Indian mythological narratives, and in
ancient worship.
 49

The elephant has always been a symbol of both violence and

friendliness, of wild power and protection, of mad destruction and
support. This is reflected in the character of Ganesh, who both places
obstacles and removes them. Most probably he was an elephant when he
entered the Hindu pantheon. But that is of course speculation. There is no
literary evidence in the sources associating Ganesh with the cult of the
white elephant in Southeast Asia, or with the striking presence of the
elephant in the stories about the Buddha in his earlier lives. We should
also not associate Ganesh with the elephant Air vata, the mount of Indra
who is the mighty Vedic god of thunder and rain. Yet, the absence of early
sources about Ganesh should not suggest that there was no worship of
him before the moment he was for the first time mentioned in literary or
archaeological sources.

For some researchers Ganesh was originally a Dravidian (South

Indian) god, worshipped in a society that venerated the Sun. Isn’t his
mount the rat, the animal that symbolizes the night? As symbol of the Sun
God, the elephant overcomes the night. Other scholars point to the
association with animal worship in ancient societies.

It is not unlikely that Ganesh was a popular deity in rural India.

We read in the Manu-Shastra (2nd century BC?):

“Shiva is the god of the Brahmans and

Ganesh is the god of the pariahs”.

He eventually became so important that he became the son of

Shiva! And the next step —’explaining’ how he got his elephant’s head—
is a fine example of mythological explanation post factum. We may
perhaps assume that Ganesh was originally an animal deity or a totem god
entering the Hindu pantheon as an elephant, but the narratives make us
believe that he was the son of Shiva who by accident was given the head
of an elephant.

If it is correct that Ganesh was at first a god of the lower classes

(till perhaps the 6th century CE) we can understand why he starts
appearing only around that period in the literary sources. Of course, we do
find the name ‘Ganesh’ in the Mah bh rat epic (from 2nd century
onward). There the word ‘ganesha’ refers to his mighty father Shiva, ‘the
Lord of the gana-s or smaller gods’ living close to Shiva in the
Himalayas. We also find another Ganesh in the same epic. The ‘author’ of
this voluminous epic, Vy s, is said to have recited all the verses and
dictated them to his secretary called Ganesh.
 50

However, the association of this secretary with our friendly deity

possessing the head of an elephant was made only centuries later. But the
fame of Ganesh remains, also as the patron of writers, even if originally
he was a rural deity in days long past.

His popularity as ‘giver of success’ is not due to his later

promotion as patron of writers alone. In the 10th century CE we see the
origin of the important, mystical sect of the Ganpatya-s, who had
followers all over India and pushed aside even the worship of Shiva in
some areas. Temples dedicated to Ganesh alone were built, with the
mount in the place where usually Nandi the bull is seated before Shiva.
Ganesh was placed higher than Brahm , Shiva and Vishnu.

Hindus pray to Ganesh at the beginning of every important work.

This custom is so deeply rooted that in Hindi shr ganesh karn or ‘to do
Lord Ganesh’ means ‘to begin’. In an old Tantric text it is said that one
has to pray to Ganesh before digging a well or at the consecration of a
temple. The devotee, it is said, has to concentrate on Ganesh and imagine
him “in red colour, with three eyes, a fat stomach, holding in his hands a
conch, a rope and a goad, and giving a blessing. The new moon is shining
on his forehead.” In many Hindu houses you can see this image of
Ganesh. In South India he has the name Pillaiyar or ‘the son’.

Why does Ganesh have the head of an elephant? There is a great

variety in the narratives, depending on the specific version, on the region
where the story was circulating among local, often rival sects, and on the
bards going from village to village. In each version of a story it is equally
important to read between the lines. For there is more here than the
‘historical’ truth. Each story is full of metaphors found in other stories,
linking one story to the other, one ‘divine’ reality with another. Each
metaphor throws some light on the divine mystery. The importance of the
story does not lie in factual history but in a feeling about how the cosmic
reality functions and how man is related to it. In this way each story
comes down to the reality of every individual: each story has a meaning
for every individual now.

1. In the beautiful temple of Somnath (Gujarat) Shiva has organised a

special ritual for himself. In order to attract many people to the ritual
Shiva announces that whoever attends will be guaranteed a place in
heaven. That message has immediate results. Heaven is flooded with
newcomers, all Shiva’s devotees, like “women, barbarians, pariahs and
other sinners”. They do not have the manners expected of worthy visitors
 51

to heaven; in fact they had all been predestined to go to hell. Of course

there is an uproar. All the lesser gods, under the leadership of the (Vedic)
god Indra go to the Himalayas, where Shiva resides on mount Kailash.
They protest and point out that there is hardly any place left for them in
the heavens. The immigrants are pushing them aside! Almighty Shiva
should find a solution to this, and soon.

The story continues in two slightly different versions:

1a. Shiva understands the anger of his divine neighbours and enters into a
deep trance. On his forehead appears a bright light and a beautiful boy is
born. Shiva’s wife, P rvat , is jealous because Shiva’s son is born without
her cooperation, and she curses the baby: “Your head will be that of an
elephant and you will have a fat stomach”. Almighty Shiva cannot undo
the curse of his wife, but he gives a special blessing: “Success and
disappointment will proceed from you. You will always be worshipped
before the other gods. If people do not first worship you, their prayer will
have no effect”. And Shiva gives him, his ‘son’, the names Ganesh, and
Vin yak, Vighna-eshvar or Vighna-r j (Lord of obstacles).

In another version it is Shiva who is not associated with the birth. Is this a
sectarian version in an environment where devotion to P rvatī prevailed?

1b. After the Somnath celebration and the uproar in heaven, the gods
come to P rvat and beg her to do something about the nuisance. They
fall on their knees before her and she is deeply moved. She rubs her belly
and gives birth to a pretty baby with four arms and ... the head of an
elephant.

This version too has some variant readings. In some stories Ganesh is
born from the scum on P rvatī’s (and Shiva’s) bathwater, or from the
mingling of their perspiration, or from a drop of blood. And the main
story goes on:

P rvat tells her son to go and find a spot on the path that leads to the
Somnathpur temple. There he is to sit down and discourage all pilgrims
making their way to the temple (and to heaven). He has to approach
especially wives and children, drawing them away from the pilgrimage
with a promise of wealth and riches. For that job Ganesh is given a
commission: anyone praying to him, with the following formula, will all
the same reach the temple:
 52

“I praise you, Ganesh,

Lord of difficulties and obstacles,
you who grant victory”.

The gods are satisfied with the compromise and withdraw to their heaven.

And Ganesh has his place in the worship of the Hindu pantheon! In yet
another story Ganesh is neither engendered by Shiva nor born from
P rvatī. He is a manifestation of Krishna, the ‘incarnation’ of Vishnu. The
cult of Krishna-Ganesh has given rise to fervent devotion. In that tradition
the name ‘Krishna’ in the Bhagavadg t was everywhere replaced by
‘ganesh’!

2. In another story about the birth of Ganesh, it is Shiva himself who

speaks through the mouth of a travelling bard:

One day P rvat and myself walked down to the forests on the foothills of
the Himalayas for a picnic, just the two of us. There, near a scenic lake,
we saw an elephant flirting with its mate. This excited us so much that we
decided to take the form of an elephant and make love. We changed our
bodies and the result of that afternoon was a son, with the head of an
elephant.

Another bard has yet another story:

For years Shiva was lost in deep meditation on a lofty peak of the
Himalaya mountains. One day he decides to go back home. When he gets
there he does not even recognize his own little son. Ganesh is standing at
the front door because his mother is taking a bath and had instructed him
to stop all strangers. Ganesh does not allow the stranger, his own father,
to enter the house. In a rage Shiva cuts off his son’s head and goes to look
for his wife. When he realizes what has happened he promises to restore
his son to life and to give him the head of the first living being he comes
across. Shiva goes out of the house and just then an elephant is passing
by...

How can we interpret the personality of Ganesh? He is conceived

against the will of his father. He is wounded by his father and brought
back to life. He is the protector of his mother. One reason for the
popularity of Ganesh, all over India, may be that in his life there are many
situations and experiences which have a parallel in our human existence.
His is a story of family relationships. It reflects the unconsciously present
ambivalent situations of our own childhood. Without falling in the trap of
 53

an exaggerated Freudian analysis, we may perhaps state that in the life of

Ganesh there are psycho-analytical elements in his relationship with his
father. The myth of Ganesh has therefore a universal character: it touches
sensibilities in our human relationships which transcend the Indian
context.

His life story starts in fact before he is born (so does ours!). There
is tension between his father Shiva and his mother P rvatī about the
question of whether they should have a child. P rvatī has a strong desire,
Shiva hesitates. Even the gods are involved: they too prefer not to see a
son of that strong couple and all the time they connive to frustrate their
love play. Wouldn’t a son disturb the balance in the cosmos and threaten
their own position?

After the birth we see how a special relationship develops between

Ganesh and his mother, while his father has retired to his meditation in the
mountains. But the moment does come when the son has to leave his
mother, when he has to stand up against his father in a fight for
superiority, in a process of identification with the father. He has to give up
his mother, because he has no chance in the fight against a father laying
claim on her. The father, however, does not want a complete surrender: he
only wounds, he does not kill. All these elements are unconsciously, in
one way or the other, present in a person’s own growth. In myths
emotions are allowed to run freely, without inhibition.

In the strong desire of P rvatī to have a son, we see clearly the

requirements of the Indian tradition. The son is said to be the ultimate
fulfilment of a woman’s creativity, he gives her a status in the family. It is
understandable that she insists on having a son by Shiva. Later on, a son
should be present for the ritual at the time of cremation of the father. But
in that ritual Shiva has no interest. He is an ascetic who has a sexual
relation with his wife only for the pleasure of it, he does not want an
offspring disturbing his peace. And, Shiva has no need of a funeral ritual,
he is beyond the cycle of death and rebirth.

One may find some similarity between the conflict of Shiva and
Ganesh, and the story of Oedipus in ancient Greece. In that story Freud
and others saw a symbolism allowing them to understand better the
psychological dynamics of the human psyche.

The story of Oedipus starts when Laios abandons his baby son because
the oracle of Delphi had foretold that his son would kill him. As a young
man Oedipus goes to search for his father, and by sheer coincidence, at a
 54

crossing of paths, he has a quarrel with another traveller, and kills the
man who is his own father. He arrives in Thebes and unwittingly marries
his own mother. When the plague decimates the population of Thebes, the
oracle proclaims that the plague will only subside if the murderer of
Laios is found. Oedipus realizes what has happened; he blinds himself
and goes into exile.

In this conflict Freud saw a dramatic expression of the universal, inhibited

desire of a male child —in the process of growth— to exclude the father
and ally himself with the mother. The story of Oedipus is horrendous, but
purifying: in a normal development a young man should find an identity
with his father and thus be able to associate with another woman. Then
the mother is lost for the son, but a relation with another woman is made
possible.

No doubt, there are some similarities with the story of Ganesh, but
there are also differences. Ganesh does not kill his father, he is killed by
his father and brought back to life. The parents of Ganesh are reconciled,
while those of Oedipus end up tragically.

In many sculptures in temples we can see Ganesh in the cosy

environment of a happy family. He is presented also as the ideal devotee
of his divine parents. He has suffered all that one can suffer and he is
purified. But he has to go on living with the head of an elephant. Even
that, though, is not accidental. His trunk is a caricature of the penis of his
mighty father, who is beyond the slightest form of sexual competition.
Ganesh is the passive celibate, Shiva is the erotic, powerful Lord.

It is not clear where we should situate the historical origin of

Ganesh. He appears to have come from several corners at the same time.
In old texts he is seen in the entourage of Shiva himself or of the Vedic
god Indra. His elephant’s head associates him with the mounts of the gods
(especially with Indra and his mount the elephant Air vata), with the
elephants in ancient Indian myths, or with the guardians at the entrance of
temples. Because of his duty to place and to remove obstacles, he may
perhaps also be associated with the demons who have to be pacified with
offerings of sweets. All these elements come together in Ganesh and give
him his universal character. He is very Indian and yet universally human,
he stands between the gods and the human individual.
 55

Maker of happiness, remover of miseries,

whose grace extends love to us,
and does not leave a trace of obstacle remaining,
you have a layer of red lead around your whole body
and a necklace of pearls shines brightly around your neck.
O son of Gauri,
you have a jewel-studded ornament,
ointment of sandalwood paste,
red powder and saffron,
and a diamond inlaid crown.
They all look beautiful on you.
Anklets with tinkling bells make a jingling sound
around your feet.
You have a large belly,
you wear a yellow silk garment.
Your trunk is straight,
your tusk bent,
O three-eyed one.
This devotee of R m
waits for you in his home.
O god who is revered by all the great gods,
be gracious to us in times of difficulty
and protect us in times of calamity.
Victory to you,
victory to you,
O god of auspicious form.
At your sight all desires of the mind are fulfilled.
May Ganesh
as he dances his tumultuous dance
in the advancing night
with his trunk raised up
and making a whistling sound
and spraying forth light
and nourishment to the stars
protect you.

Paul B. Courtright,
Ganesh, Lord of obstacles, Lord of beginnings,
p. 164
 56

10. Pand -s or pilgrims’ priests

Yes, I lost my temper as I rarely did after so many years in India. Was it
only fatigue, or what we thought was a sacred moment in our lives, or just
the fact that I fell on the wrong pand ? My wife and myself had taken off
our shoes and for her first time, we were standing in the Ganges on the
gh t of Hardvar, the ‘gateway to God’, a few hundred miles upstream
from Banaras. The water is colder there and cleaner, and the current is
stronger. The leaf-with-candle and the flowers we offer float away
quickly, in the direction of Banaras. Confident that all humans understand
Hindi, a local pand had won the argument with his colleagues and
chosen us as quarry.

He stood right in front of us, between our prayer for our children
and the splendid view of the Ganges. In elementary Sanskrit he prayed for
our peace of soul and the forgiveness of our sins, and in clear Hindi he
said that the fee for his intervention was 15 Rupees. It was when I could
no longer pretend that I did not understand Hindi that I lost my temper. I
chased him away in very unkind Hindi. But he did not let go, convinced
that we were real sinners and needed him. Our sacred moment was spoiled
and we walked away.

Hindu pilgrims cannot chase or walk away. Pand -s are

Brahmans. They live in pilgrimage centres and as an inherited family
tradition they hold the right to perform rituals. Against payment. Each
major centre of pilgrimage has its pand -s. Some are highly specialised,
others are more go-betweens who guide the naive villagers from one site
to another. Most of them have a fabulous memory for faces and figures. It
is not difficult to identify a bus coming from Rajasthan, even the turbans
of the farmers betray them. In many places the pand -s will within
minutes know from what village the party of pilgrims comes, and refer to
the fathers and grandfathers of particular persons who also came to the
holy place. They will quote the exact date and the exact amount the
forefathers donated. Much of that information, —especially about large
amounts donated— is carefully written down in registers. No, a Hindu
pilgrim cannot walk away!

Avoiding the pand ’s services is not only impolite. It can be

disastrous if the main reason of your visit to Banaras —or any site along
 57

the Ganges— is to immerse the bones of your father’s cremation. These

‘flowers’ (phūl) as they are often euphemistically called in Hindi, are
carried in a red pouch around the neck and can be immersed only after the
pand has performed the ritual, in ‘Sanskrit’. Who would dare to
jeopardize the peace of soul of a relative by antagonizing a pand ? Every
pilgrim from the villages remembers that the pand knows the formulas,
and that he is a Brahman! More than two millennia old are the stories and
threats about the punishments one incurs in the next births for offending a
Brahman. Even an educated villager will sit in awe when the pand
performs the ritual over the ‘flowers’. He asks the pilgrim to give his
name, the place he comes from, the time of the year and of the day, and to
explicitly state that he came for the ritual of the bones. The pilgrim has
then also to ask aloud that his father may go to heaven or at least have an
easy passage to a next birth. And that all his sins may be destroyed.

Like the voice of a BBC journalist commenting on a race-horse the

pand raises his voice when describing the duty the bearer of the bones
has: “For the satisfaction of the deceased you will donate grains, a cow,
clothing, utensils, you will organize a feast for Brahmans, and you will
make a donation to the pand ”. Even if the first gifts may symbolical and
optional, the last one definitely is not. All the other donations may be
given at some later date. The gift to the pand has to come immediately,
in cash. But even on this sacred occasion haggling is in place. On both
sides!

That is not the only service rendered by the pand . He first gets on
the bus when the pilgrims arrive at the place of pilgrimage. He suggests
what lodge they should stay in, if no arrangements have been made
beforehand. He will advise the pilgrims on what to do first: take a bath, or
have tea, visit such or such a temple, and depending on the time the
pilgrims want to spend in Banaras he will plan their stay with a one-day or
four-day walk around Banaras. There is more. He will suggest the best
and cheapest place to acquire a brass pot to take home a supply of Ganges
water. If during a ritual your brass pot seems to have disappeared, it will
return at the right moment, filled with holy water by an associate pand .
The pot will be properly waxed, ready for the journey.

Even if pilgrims are often genuinely glad they are guided by

pand -s, they also have ambivalent feelings about their services and
machinations. Even if the behaviour of some pand in some place may be
downright obnoxious, the pilgrim will still feel that the nature of the priest
who performed the ritual and received the offerings cannot spoil the
meritorious effect of the ritual.
 58

If a pilgrim’s visit is not associated with the ritual for the dead, it
can be really a pleasure trip, especially if a dip in the ocean (Puri, Orissa)
can be included. The local pand will very quickly size you up and know
whether you are in for a cheap package of worship, or for a more
elaborate visit. In Vrindaban, where Krishna sported, you can participate
in a really divine meal served only to rich pilgrims: chappan bhog or a
meal consisting of 56 dishes. When I was treated to such a meal in 1996 I
was fit only to go and lie down for a long, divine sleep. So were the
pand -s who had organized and participated in the the expensive meal.
 59

Riding the blue sapphire mountains

wearing moonstone for slippers
blowing long horns
O Shiva
when shall I crush you on my pitcher breasts?

O lord white as jasmine

when do I join you
stripped of body’s shame
and heart’s modesty?

Mahadeviyakka, Speaking of Shiva, p. 136.

 60

11. The River Front

“Do you see it? Of course not. You cannot see it”. I did not know whether
the old man was pulling my leg, or had been sitting in the sun for too
many years. But he was very convinced, although he admitted that he too
sometimes did not see it.

“Banaras is not attached to the ground as you think you see it. It hangs
in the air, separate from the earth. It hangs above the air, balanced on
the trident of Shivj . Right underneath the Vishvan th temple, the
shaft of the trident is firmly fixed. In fact the temple itself stands on
the middle prong of Shivji’s trident. The Kedar temple to the south is
supported by the southern prong, and the Omk reshvara temple in the
north is standing on the other prong. I see it very clearly now, all gold
is this city, high in the air”.

No doubt, the early morning sight of Banaras, seen from the river is
splendid, even in winter when most tourists come and often have their
first view through the early morning mist. The palaces and temples on the
river bank are indeed golden early in the morning. If the eye tries to see
what is not seen, and imagines this place to be the final stop before
liberation, one could imagine the city somewhere up in the sky.

The river front has ‘84’ named steps or gh t-s to the Ganges. More
than eight kilometres long, these gh t-s were built in stone at the end of
the 18th century or later. The most recently constructed is the Raj gh t,
near the Raid s temple just before the northern Ramnagar bridge. This
was financed by the Uttar Pradesh Government and private donations. It is
not yet complete and the mud that settles on the steps during every rainy
season is not cleared regularly. Each of the gh t-s has its own story and its
own myth placing its origin in very ancient times. Some gh t-s are
associated with moving stories. I mention only a few of them.

Tourists should not forget that Banaras remains a very important

place for pilgrims. They come and bathe in order to get rid of their sins.
Five gh t-s have special powers to bestow merits. For greater merit the
pilgrim will visit them in the following order: Asi, Dashashvamedha, Adi
Keshava, Panchaganga and Mani-karnik . If a person bathes in these five
 61

places, he will never again be born in a body that consists of the five gross
elements. He will become the five-faced Shiva himself.

With great regret Prof. Rana Singh told me in 1996 that the idyllic
Asi ghāt is losing much of its charm because of stupid planning in
construction and renovation. Not only has an ‘easy toilet facility’ been
constructed nearby and the river front spoiled by the sight of cafés built
for tourists, but the Asi confluence was shifted in 1981 and the result is a
enormous silt deposition. Thousands of dollars would be required every
year to clean the Asi gh t.

Yet, this area is still my favourite spot, possibly also because the
neighbouring gh t is associated with Tulsīd s (see chapter 13), possibly
the most famous mediaeval poet in northern India. He became my
favourite poet since I had the chance, in the spring of 1996, to read and
sing his complete R m Carit M nas (500 pages) in the sweet Avadhi
language in which he composed it. What is in a name, what is in a place?
But when I sit under the tree on Tulsī ghāt (next to Asi gh t) and close
my eyes, I can see the greatest of poets sitting there in the early morning
light, writing down verses as fluently as Mozart composed his operas. Did
Tulsīd s first sing his verses, as one could imagine since the rhythm is so
strong? Even a training centre for wrestlers close by is associated with
Tulsī, although it is hard to imagine that he would have been engaged in
that strenuous exercise. Every year in October a play around the life of
Krishna is performed here. From a huge branch planted near the river a
boy jumps in the river and ‘subdues’ the snake Kalīya, exactly in the way
Krishna saved the environment in Vrindaban from the pollution caused by
the snake. I was told that this event clearly teaches us that only surrender
to God can now save the planet threatened by pollution.

As we follow the river to the north, downstream, we come to the

Jain gh t. There the Jain community is concentrated. A little further, at
Mahanirv n gh t, legend tells us, the Buddha took a bath, when he
resided in the neighbourhood (Sarnath) to deliver his first sermon, two
and half millennia ago. These gh t-s are witness to the continuity of the
ancient religiosity of India.

Harischandra ghāt. Dozens of sites in Banaras are associated

with the moving story of the (legendary) righteous king Harischandra. All
that he owned he had given as a ritual gift to a Brahman. Giving (mainly
to Brahmans) is not only one of the foundation stones of Hindu tradition,
it has always been one of the main occupations in Banaras. When finally
the Brahman insisted on an additional gift for his coronation, king
 62

Harischandra had no resources left. Rather than to ignore his obligation to

the Brahmans he decided to come to Banaras. He sold his wife and his son
into slavery and took up a job as bonded labourer on the cremation
grounds. That fee of servitude was accepted by the Brahman!

One day, Harischandra’s wife came to the cremation grounds,

carrying their dead son who had been bitten by a snake. (The pand in
Banaras will readily show you the spot where the snake took the boy by
surprise.) After this ultimate test of truthfulness, the king was eventually
rewarded by the gods and all ended well. Partly because of the story of
king Harischandra many people will prefer to be cremated on the
Harischandra gh t and not on the more popular Mani-karnik gh t
downstream. That Mani-karnik (cremation) gh t is of course of great
significance because of the close association with the act of creation by
Vishnu (see chapter 3). Near Harischandra gh t also an electrical
crematorium was opened in 1986.

Most first time visitors to Banaras arrive at the river near

Dashashvamedha gh t. Just to the right of it is the small, but important
Shītal ghāt, with the very popular temple dedicated to Shītal , the
goddess of smallpox. The stone construction of this gh t is more than 250
years old. Also newlywed couples like to take a bath at this gh t, before
going to the Shītal temple to worship. I have never seen this temple
without visitors, but especially on the eighth day of the waxing moon,
many pilgrims throng to this temple and gh t.

The oldest and busiest place to take a bath in the Ganges is the
Dashashvamedha ghāt. None less than Brahm himself, according to
mythology, performed here a ‘Ten Horse sacrifice’. Historically, this
sacrifice was probably organized by some Hindu king in the 2nd century
AD. Even more important is that here the pilgrim is told that Brahm , the
‘creator’ of the universe, established two lingam-s at this site in honour of
Shiva. He then liked the place so much that he decided to stay in Banaras
for ever.

I have said it before: the whole universe, all the Hindu gods are
present in Banaras. A ‘horse sacrifice’ in ancient India was a very
meritorious ritual and could be organized only by powerful kings. A horse
was let loose for one year and the territory through which the horse passed
came under the jurisdiction of the king. At the end of the year the horse
was ritually sacrificed. At Dash-ashva-medha gh t in Banaras ten such
rituals are said to have been organized. All the merits of those rituals are
 63

the share of the pilgrim taking a bath here! This is supposed to be the first
gh t that was built in stone, in 1302 CE.

But even here there is more than the eye can see. First, the road
leading into the gh t area was earlier the course of a stream (till about
1850), that served as a drainage for a lake, especially during the rainy
season. That stream was called Godaulia stream, and that was interpreted
as ‘Godavari’, which is a sacred river in Central India. If you take a bath
at this spot, you actually bathe in the confluence of the Ganges and the
Godavari. No need to go to the actual Godavari, although a bath there too
is said to be very meritorious.

And there is more. In bright letters you can read ‘Pray g ghāt’ on
the spire of the temple a little downstream from the Dashashvamedha
gh t. Prayag is an ancient name for Allahabad, about 120 kms upstream,
towards the Himalayas. It is called the ‘King of Sacred Places’, being at
the confluence of the Ganges, the Yamun and the (mythical) Sarasvatī
river. Even that place —and all the merits derived from a bath there— is
actually present in Dashashvamedha gh t! The whole cosmos in a
nutshell, that is what you find in Banaras.
It is important to look at a lunar calendar before visiting Banaras. Huge
crowds come to Dashashvamedha gh t on the 10th day of the bright moon
in May-June.

About the significance of the Mani-karnik ghāt, the famous

cremation ground, I have written in chapter 3. Shiva himself is said to
whisper the t rak-mantra or ‘prayer that makes you cross’ in the ear of
the deceased persons cremated here. ‘Crossing the ocean of rebirths’ is the
endeavour of all religious Hindus. Mani-karnik is the last gh t most
tourists and many pilgrims visit.

Only those that are obsessed with the idea of ‘visiting the five
gh t-s’ will continue to the north, downstream. They walk for nearly one
kilometre, passing 14 named gh t-s, some clay-banked (where Moslems
live) till they reach the Panchagang ghāt, ‘where the five Ganges meet’.
At this gh t pilgrims especially honour the river Ganges and its
(imaginary) confluents that are symbolical for the sacred rivers all over
India. On the full moon of October-November hundreds of lights are lit
and placed in the sockets of a pillar on the gh t. At any time of the year,
however, this is a magnificent gh t. On this place a huge temple stood,
dedicated to Vishnu. It was destroyed several times between the 12th and
the 16th century.
 64

The Moghul emperor Aurangzeb demolished it in the 17th century

and constructed what is now known as the Alamgiri Mosque. Till some
time during the 19th century it had four very tall minarets. The view from
the river is impressive. Only the outer facing of the mosque is of highly
decorative red sandstone; the basic structure is made of brick. A Moslem
structure dominating the skyline of the riverfront in Hindu Banaras, one
could not dream of a better symbol of integration of different religions,
if...

Another three kilometres downstream, walking partly on the river

bank and partly on the road through the Krishnamurti Foundation
compound to the north of the bridge at K shī station, the very devoted
pilgrims reach the rural setting of the 84th , the di-Keshav ghāt. It is
perhaps the oldest site in Banaras, but today not many people even know
it. Early in 1996, staying in the Krishnamurti compound, I made my entry
into the city from here, by boat, and it is a soothing experience. Banaras is
a peaceful place if you arrive from here. No cars, no horns, no
overcrowded streets. Just the quiet river, the sound of the oars and the
slow motion activity of people awakening on the banks of the river. It is
on this spot —the confluence of the Gang and the Varan rivers— that
the ‘original Vishnu’ ( di-keshav) first placed His feet when He arrived in
the city of Shiva. If He took a bath at this place, then it must be very
auspicious for pilgrims, too, to have a bath here.
 65

12. I lived in Banaras

Isabelle Bermijn, December 1992

When I came to Banaras for the first time I was a KULeuven alumna and
a student in Delhi university. It was love at first sight. One year later, in
October, I jumped off the train in V r nasī eager to be submerged for one
year in the holiest city on earth. All my Indian friends, who never had
been to Banaras, had warned me: “Do not go there. It is awful...and dirty”.
They were wrong. So far it has been the best year in my life, a year in
which I lived so intensely that it is hard to describe to people who have
never had the Banaras experience. The link with the city is also the basis
for a unique friendship among the foreigners living in Banaras. Even after
two years, when we meet or write, wo do little else than talk about
Banaras. Even to people who have studied Hinduism for years, Banaras is
difficult to understand. A city so full of paradoxes and contrasts does not
permit itself to be classified in one category.

I love Banaras for the openness and frankness of the people living
there. This may sound contradictory, because holy cities tend to have a
coat of conservatism covering them. People in Banaras are very realistic.
Banaras may be the only city in India where the taboo about death is so
conspicuously absent. No doubt, dying in Banaras is very special. No
wonder you see so many old people here. Many of them stay here for
years before they die. Life in Banaras knows no stress of any kind, and it
is my impression that many of these old people are happier here than in
their home towns where they were made to feel unproductive, annoying.
Some of them go mad, waiting for death. In Kachauri Gali I used to meet
an old man who insisted on blessing me every time he saw me. Each time
he asked me for an anna (one sixteenth of a rupee, long out of use). Mad
or not, old people are accepted as part of society.

In Banaras death is seen as a continuation of life. Why then should

one be sad? Westerners are often shocked here when they see a funeral. It
is so public, without taboos. The body is wrapped in a flashy shroud and
seems to be hopping up and down on the bamboo stretcher. Just stand on
the side if a corpse passes you in one of the narrow alleys! A body tied on
top of a jeep is an even stranger sight; the shroud is flapping in the wind.
The ‘mourning’ party squatting in the jeep, trying to fit in, look more like
a gang of thieves who have stolen a mummy.
 66

Sometimes there is nobody to mourn, nobody to carry the body.

Then it is tied to a cycle rickshaw. The rickshaw-w l will take the body
to the electric crematorium on Harischandra gh t. Once in a blue moon
you can see a (half burnt) corpse floating on the river. Not a single
worshipper taking a bath in the morning seems to be bothered by this.
They go on splashing in the water, drinking it. The Ganges is like a
mother to them. The holiest river on earth. What does one corpse in it
matter?

The strangest experience I had along the river was the cremation
of a s dhu, a holy man. S dhu-s are considered to be completely pure. The
body is put in an open coffin and thrown into the Ganges. When it sinks
there is so much noise and music that it looks rather like the ritual
immersion of a Durg idol on the occasion of Dashera.

Some find all this rude, even cruel. It is an everyday reality in the
city of life and death. I could cope with it. For me it was a refreshing
approach to life. What I could not deal with was the cruelty to animals. I
found the same attitude elsewhere in India, but in Banaras I had expected
something different. It was not different. The cow and the crow are the
happiest creatures. All the other four-footers are miserable. Dogs are
miserable. They are kicked by everyone. They have all kinds of awful
diseases; some have only patches of fur, others have open wounds and
nearly all are limping. Why? Is it the result of their bad karma that they
should lead such a miserable life? Equally miserable are the donkeys. And
the horses pulling the horse carts. The drivers do not seem to realize that
there is a relation between care for the animal and its productivity.
Shouting ‘there is place for all’ they load the tonga with just double the
amount of people that the poor horse can stand. Isn’t it strange that I
always saw the older people squatting on the floor of the tonga, while the
younger generation fights for the seats? The children hang somewhere
around the vehicle.

Banaras is the city where the cow triumphs. She has her definite
place in society. Cows are not only holy in Banaras, they are in great
numbers as well. A cow in Banaras is very different from her colleagues
in the west. Here she is a personality. A cow belonging to a particular
house has her own territory. Near the hostel where I stayed, ‘our’ cow was
a beautiful, long legged animal always sniffing through the garbage
thrown across the wall into the street. She would start in the morning with
a short round, and get her quota of chapp t -s. Usually people did not
even mind if she gently came into the house for that. When she blocked
 67

our way we had to talk to her gently. Hard words or violence would not
make her move.

The contrast that kept amazing me in Banaras was the subtle but
striking combination of sacredness and purity, and the omnipresent dirt.
One can love the city, but you can never ignore the dirt. How can so much
dirt in public be reconciled with the strong notion of purity? Seeing all the
piles of garbage, the cow dung thrown all over the alleys, the marks of
betel nut all over the place, a westerner has to leave behind his or her
notion of dirt. Or be disgusted. In the west showing your dirt, your
garbage in public is taboo. In Banaras it is a part of reality, exactly in the
way a corpse makes its way to the funeral pyre on a cycle, or mad people
can roam around freely.

Every morning you throw the garbage across the wall on the street.
The cows come first and select what they like. Then the crows go through
it, followed by the rag pickers. When they have all gone, the sweeper
comes and takes away the rest. Purity and holiness do not seem to belong
to public life.

Banaras is a fascinating city if you have enough time to lose. Do

not judge it if you stay only for a couple of nights. Just one single boat
trip leaves a memorable impression on any westerner’s mind. Imagine
what it can be like if you stay here for one year, or more. Living in the
most sacred Hindu city has definitely changed me. Life in Europe looks
dull after the hustle and bustle of Banaras. Even during peak hours streets
in the west can never be as chaotic as in Banaras. A melting pot of
everything that moves, with or without an engine.

Why do I dare to say that I learned savoir vivre after one year in
the holiest and dirtiest city of India?
 68

Four parts of the day

I grieve for you.
Four parts of the night
I’m mad for you.

I lie lost
sick for you, night and day,
O lord white as jasmine.

Since your love

was planted,
I’ve forgotten hunger,
thirst, and sleep.

Mahadeviyakka, Speaking of Shiva, p. 124.

 69

13. Shiva. ‘A model devotee of R m’

No, it is not a typing error. You read correctly. The Great Lord of the
lingam and of the Dance is presented as the model devotee of R m, the
incarnation of Vishnu. This is a statement of a devotee-poet who, in the
16th century, created one of the most influential religious works in India of
the last 500 years. His name is Tulsīd s (ca. 1532-1623). He created his
masterpiece, the R m Carit M nas, in 1574, when the Mughal emperor
Akbar reigned in Fatehpur Sikri. Among the millions of North-India,
whether literate or not, he enjoys a popularity unequalled anywhere else.
The causes of his popularity are found in his own genius and in the roots
of ancient India.

In Avadhi, the language current in the Banaras region in his day,

Tulsīd s recreated the great story of R m first told in beautiful Sanskrit by
V lmīki (around 200 BC?). Similar to the miracle worked by Homer in
ancient Greece, V lmīki composed a long epic telling the stories of R m.
Itinerant singers had sung this R m yan or the ‘Adventures of R m’ for
centuries and after V lmīki spread the story again, all over India and later
to Indochina and Indonesia. The extraordinary influence of V lmīki on
both Indian and Asian literature is due partly to the charm of the R m
story itself, as it existed before him. This story can be summarized as
follows:

“Once upon a time, there was a prince of Ayodhya and his name was
R m. He was the eldest and most popular son of the king Dashrath. Due
to the cunning of his stepmother Kaikey who wanted the throne for her
son Bharat, R m was banished for fourteen years to the forests. He went
into exile, accompanied by his wife S t , and his brother Lakshman. While
they were living in the forest, a chieftain called R van kidnapped S t .
R m eventually rescued his faithful S t , but only after many adventures
and with the help of friendly tribes. He killed R van and, when the time of
his exile came to an end, he returned to Ayodhya, where Bharat gladly
handed over the kingdom to him. He was crowned and reigned for many
years. His rule was famous for peace and prosperity and became known
by the name of R m-r jya”.

The main reason for V lmīki’s lasting popularity is, however, not the R m
story itself, but the artistic merit of his poetry and the vivid portrayal of
 70

high moral values. The R m yan of V lmīki conquered the heart of

religious-minded India, chiefly because of the importance it attaches to
things of the spirit, because of its noble conception of the sanctity of
marriage and the sacredness of a pledge, its high ideals of duty,
truthfulness and self-control, its living examples of domestic and social
virtues, its deep faith in the ultimate meaning of life as a struggle between
good and evil.

In short, R m was a living ideal of the correct dharma.

That may also be one of the reasons while eventually the prince
R m developed into an avt r of Vishnu (an idea not found in the V lmīki
R m yan). People listen to the story or read it ‘to become a better person’.

Tulsīd s, centuries later, not only re-created an immortal poem: he

also proclaimed devotion as the only way to God, as the only way to
salvation. Tulsīd s saw that in his days the common people were very
much impressed by yogic practices, which they admired but could not
imitate, that they were misled by various esoteric doctrines and confused
by many sects, each with its own ritual and philosophical doctrine. He
realised that real religion is far less complicated. Although Tulsīd s wrote
‘I am no poet, nor am I skilled in speech’, dozens and dozens of his verses
have become proverbs.

It was in the ‘city of Shiva’ that Tulsīd s sang of the greatness of

R m, an incarnation of Vishnu. “Worship Shiva as the Lord of the
universe, while he is the archetypal devotee of R m!”. This inconsistent
theology disappears in the devotional floods of the poem, like salt in
water. That poem, the R m Carit M nas, is about 500 pages long in
printed form. If Banaras was the bastion of devotion for Shiva, how do
you sell the story of R m? Easy enough, Tulsīd s said. “It was Shiva
himself who first told this story, and through several intermediaries, I
heard it too. Now I am singing it for you”, says Tulsīd s at the beginning
of the first chapter of the R m Carit M nas. That is the way in Hinduism
to reconcile different theological thoughts, different notions about the
divine, different views on life. That is also the way many autochthonous
gods and different traditions of devotion entered the Hindu pantheon.
 71

The poem of Tulsīd s is also concluded with Shiva’s final remark to his
wife P rvatī, giving the epitome of all the great values of the R m yan:

“Blessed is the land where flows the Gang ,

blessed the woman faithful to her lord,
blessed the king who clings to proper conduct,
blessed the twice-born who strays not from his code,
blessed the wealth given in charity,
blessed intelligence grounded in virtue,
blessed the hour of companionship with the holy,
blessed a life of service to the twice-born.

O P rvat , blessed and holy is that family,

revered in all the world,
in which is born a humble man
firmly devoted to R m”.
 72

14. ‘Banarsiness’

With gracious permission quoted from Philip Lutgendorf, The Life of a

Text. Performing the Ramcaritmanas of Tulsidas, University of California
Press, 1991, p. 43-46, passim. The interesting footnotes in his book have
here been left out.

“During the two decades prior to the period of my field research (1982-
1984), Banaras grew from a city of some five hundred thousand people to
an urban complex of more than one million. Little substantial
modification was made to the physical layout of the older sections of the
city to accommodate this increased population, and although new suburbs
sprang up on three sides, their growth was largely unplanned and placed a
further strain on the city’s already-overburdened road network, as well as
on its water, electricity, and waste disposal systems. A particularly serious
crisis developed because of the discharge of enormous quantities of
sewage into the Gang , which is the source of the city’s water supply, its
principal bathing place, and the embodiment of its special sanctity. In
earlier times, lower population and traditional methods of waste disposal
(involving the daily transport of night soil to outlying fields) had kept
river pollution at lower levels; the advent of flush toilets and sewage
mains precipitated an ecological crisis, reflected in a high incidence of
gastrointestinal problems and a high infant mortality rate in the region.

Banaras is certainly not unique in its pollution problems, although

its inhabitants’ intimate relationship with the river that is their city’s most
powerful symbol makes the problem particularly visible. The
overcrowding of the central city in recent years and the resultant trafic
problems (it is sometimes literally impossible to move, even on foot, in
the downtown area at peak periods), as well as increasing levels of air and
noise pollution, are all common to much of urban India —indeed to urban
centers throughout the world. The fact that, despite such problems,
Banaras retains its magnetic appeal for Hindu India and continues to
evoke the fervent pride of its own citizens invites us to consider just what
it is that is so special about this city.

Most residents would probably sum it up with the word

Banarasipan —”Banarsiness”— an allusion to the city’s characteristic
ethos, which is thought to combine spirituality and worldly pleasure,
 73

sanctity and satisfaction. Banarsipan is held to manifest itself in a carefree

life-style characterized by such qualities as “passion”, “intoxication” and
“joy” and in the cultivation of “passionate engagement”, especially in
religious or cultural activities. Educated Hindu Banarsis often allude to
the city’s unique “culture” or civilization (samskriti) —a term that, to
Western readers, may suggest universities, museums, libraries, and
concert halls. All these institutions exist in Banaras —most in varying
degrees of dilapidation— but the culture-specific sense of “culture” here
may be better understood in terms of smaller and less centralized units:
neighbourhood temples that stage oratorical and singing programs;
merchants’ associations that sponsor neighborhood fairs; ethnic social
clubs that mount elaborate puja rites, accompanied by processions and
musical performances; families that sponsor annual poetic competitions or
music recitals in honor of a revered ancestor’s death-anniversary; aged
pandits who live in tiny rooms off dingy alleys but carry whole libraries of
Sanskrit and Hindi texts in their heads; household-oriented schools of
music and dance under the tutelage of renowned gurus; groups of migrant
laborers from the hinterland who gather on street corners to sing their
village folksongs for hours.

The city’s annual festival cycle is complex; its cultural

performance cycle is beyond cataloging. On one particularly busy
weekend in October 1983, for example, there were some forty Ramlila
pageants running concurrently in various neigborhoods, along with thirty
(Moslem) Muharram processions and more than a hundred elaborate
Durg Puja tableaux mounted by Bengali cultural associations, not to
mention the usual assortment of folk plays, all-night concerts, annual
temple festivals, wrestling competitions, and semi-public functions such
as marriage celebrations with their bands, processions, and fireworks.

For the visiting student of cultural performance no less than for a

resident Banarsi, such events help to compensate for the inconveniences
of everyday life in the City of Light —for the fact that shops, schools, and
offices are rarely open on time, function indifferently, and occasionally
close without warning; for the fact that water and electricity supplies
sometimes fail and telephones are dead more often than they are alive. But
if cultural programs are what help to make Banarsi life worthwhile, they
may also contribute to making it difficult. If the bureaucrat one needs to
see is not at work yet at 11:00 A.M. (or is present but not functioning), it
is possibly because he was up all night at a Ramlila performance, a temple
festival or a folk play. Where else in the world could thousands of people
routinely take a month’s leave from work each year to attend the all-
engrossing ramlila cycle at Ramnagar? It happens in Banaras.
 74

The word Banarsipan suggests music and ceremony, dance and

decoration. It also evokes a range of atmospheric associations: temples,
Brahmans, and even cows are part of ‘culture’ here, and so are
cacophonous gongs, bells, and conch-trumpets at 4:00 A.M., awakening
the deities to the accompaniment of loud cries of “Har Har Mah dev!”
(two names of Shiva, uttered in his praise).

The Banarsi ethos manifests itself too in a certain plucky cynicism,

an urbanity that is at once worldly-wise and otherworldly, and a
simultaneous local self-deprecation and intense pride. One frequently
hears complaints of ‘our wretched eastern U.P., where everyone is poor,
the authorities are corrupt, and nothing functions as it should. Then one is
reminded, “Look here, brother, this is K shī!”, —the Center of the World,
or rather, not in the world at all, since it is balanced atop the trident of
Lord Shiva, and all who live and die here, whether religious or not,
Hindus, Moslems, Christians, even (as someone told me) ‘flies and
mosquitoes,’ are guaranteed liberation from further rebirth by the grace of
Shiva and the power of the name of R m.

This embarrassment of spiritual riches becomes itself a source of

verbal humour, as when cycle-rickshaw drivers teasingly hail one another:
‘He guru-ji! He mahatmaji!’ —’O Master! Great-souled One!’.

It is well known that Banaras is the City of Shiva, who is adored

here in many forms and under many names: as Rudra and Bhairav,
awesome lords of ghosts and spirits; as the transcendent and resplendent
Mah dev of the Puranas, husband of P rvatī and father of Ganesh, with
his trident, serpent necklace, and long matted locks from which the River
Gang pours forth —a slayer of world-threatening demons and a dancer
who beats out the rhythm of the aeons on his double-headed drum.

He is also the Bhola Nath of folklore —the ‘mad’ or ‘simple’

god— intoxicated both with divine wisdom and with bhang (a cannabis
preparation much consumed in Banaras), a wandering ascetic who is also
a storehouse of erotic energy and fertility. For Banarsis Shiva is especially
Vishvan th —the Lord of the World— who is all these things and also a
smooth, dark stone, roughly the size and shape of an ostrich egg, set
upright in a gold-plated recess in the inner sanctum of the city’s most
famous temple, which lies at the heart of a maze of narrow, congested
lanes near the riverfront. In everyday speech this deity is affectionately
known as ‘Baba Vishvan th’ —Papa Vishvan th— the city’s benign and
paternalistic ruler as well as its supreme preceptor, who imparts the
 75

liberation-granting mahamantra to all who leave their bodies within his

special jurisdiction. This ‘great mystic utterance’ is widely held to be the
name “R m”, which is inscribed on countless walls and doorways in the
city. Shiva Vishvan th is thus a special patron of the R m bhakti tradition
as well as the original narrator of its great epic.”
 76

15. Shiva and the monkey-god Hanum n

With gracious permission quoted from Philip Lutgendorf, The Life of a

Text. Performing the Ramcaritmanas of Tuls d s, University of California
Press, 1991, p. 47-51, passim. The interesting footnotes in his book have
here been left out.

Hanum n: monkey, hero of the R m yan story, is the most faithful

devotee of R m, and a god.

“His vermillion daubed images are among the most ubiquitous of

Banarsi icons. A divinity who surely rose out of the ‘little’ or folk
tradition, Hanum n is a dispenser of power and potency. As a marital hero
and R m’s victorious general, he is the patron deity of wrestlers —young
men who practice body-building and martial arts in gymnasiums or
clubhouses situated along the gh t-s, most of which incorporate his
shrines. Hanum n is also the patron of grammarians and students,
fervently invoked before annual school exams and in the face of problems
in general; the deity to repair to on ‘dangerous’ days like Tuesday and
Saturday, associated with malefic planetary influences. In this capacity he
is primarily an intercessor figure, a middleman.

In the influence-conscious society of eastern Uttar Pradesh, such

connections can make all the difference. I have heard oral expounders
exclaim jokingly that there are more temples to Hanum n in Banaras than
to R m himself; this may well be true, and on a little reflection, it seems
only appropriate. For as every U.P. politician knows, the key to getting
the Great Man’s ear is knowing the right person in his entourage. If R m,
in his endless perfection, seems distant and unattainable at times, his
monkey servant is earthy and accessible. The fact that Hanum n is divine
and can, like divinities, be invoked in the most exalted terms (as the
‘ocean of wisdom and virtue’ and ‘illuminator of the three worlds’) never
entirely obscures the fact that he is also a monkey, or rather a god in
monkey form. Accounts of Hanum n’s deeds often feature comic episodes
arising out of his simian simplicity, crude strength, and occasional
destructiveness. To laugh at these things is, for Hindus, in no way
incongruent with reverence.
 77

A further point needs to be made concerning Hanum n. A major

theme of Tulsīd s’s epic is the compatibility of the worship of
R m/Vishnu with that of Shiva. In this sphere too, Hanum n plays the
role of intermediary and ‘bridges’ the two traditions, even as, in the
narrative, he leaps the sea separating the mainland from Lanka (where
R van and his cohorts, like most Puranic demons, are devotees of Shiva).
It is said in the Ramcharitmanas of Tulsīd s (written in Banaras, we
should remember) that at the time when R m was born in Ayodhya, ‘all
the gods’ took the form of monkeys and went into the forests to wait for
him, to assist him in the war against the demon R van who had kidnapped
Sīt .

A popular tradition, widely current in the Banaras region, holds

that Shiva became Hanum n and thus that Hanum n himself is none other
than a special avt r of the Great Lord Shiva himself: Shiva, the primal
knower of R m’s adventures, does not merely enter the story as its
original narrator but also becomes one of its best-loved characters.
One shrine needs special mention here. The Sankat Mochan
(Liberator from Distress) Hanum n Temple is located in the southern
section of the city and outside the traditional limits of the sacred area.
Although far less ancient than the Visvanath (‘golden’) Temple, it can be
said today to complement it in popularity, drawing worshipers form
throughout the city and its environs. Most of the structures in the Sankat
Mochan complex have been built within the past few decades, but the
main shrine encloses a stone image of Hanum n —now barely discernible
as such beneath heavy layers of vermillion— believed to date to
Tulsīd s’s time and linked to an important episode in the poet’s legend.

Hanum n possesses physical immortality, for R m is thought to

have granted him the boon that he might retain his body ‘as long as my
story is current in the world’. The circumstances of the boon suggest the
special association of Hanum n with the R m-narrative tradition, for he is
said never to tire of hearing the creative retelling of the deeds of his lord
and thus is the special patron of oral expounders; it is still widely believed
that Hanum n is present (albeit usually disguised) at every performance of
the Ramcharitmanas of Tulsīd s. A well-known legend concerns
Tulsīd s’s own encounter with the god Hanum n.

It is said that Tulsīd s was in the habit of retiring for his morning
ablutions to a spot in the woods outside Banaras, taking with him a water
pot with which to cleanse himself. On his return to the city, he would pour
the small amount of water that remained in the pot at the foot of a certain
tree. As it happened, this tree was the abode of a ghost, who was greatly
 78

pleased with the daily water-offering —for ghosts are always tormented
by thirst and are happy to receive even impure water. One day the ghost
appeared to the poet, thanked him for his long time service, and offered
him a boon. Tulsīd s replied that his life’s desire was to obtain a glimpse
of Lord R m. “That’s out of my league”, said the ghost, “but why don’t
you ask Hanum n to arrange it? He comes every day when you recite the
story of R m. He is disguised, but you may know him by the fact that he is
always first to arrive and last to leave.”

That evening when Tulsīd s took his seat on a gh t along

the Gang to recite and expound his epic of R m, he observed that the
first listener to arrive was an aged leper, who positioned himself
unobtrusively in the rear of the enclosure. When the recitation was over,
Tulsīd s quietly followed this old man, who led him out of the city and
into a thickly wooded area —to the very spot where Sankat Mochan
Temple stands today. There Tulsī fell at the leper’s feet, lauding him as
Hanum n and imploring his grace. “I know who you are. Help me! I want
to see R m!” At first the old man pretended annoyed incomprehension:
“Go away, you’re mad! Why are you tormenting an old, sick man?” But
the poet held firmly to the leper’s feet and at last great monkey-god
Hanum n revealed his glorious form—

With golden-coloured body shining with splendor,

like another Sumeru, the world-mountain.

Hanum n blessed Tulsīd s and instructed him to go to Chitrakut, the place

of R m’s forest exile; there he would have his desired vision of R m.
Tulsīd s showed his gratitude by causing an image of Hanum n to be
erected at the spot where the god appeared to him. That is exactly where
today we find the Sankat Mochan Temple, in a mass of bamboo thickets
and towering trees, appropriately infested with troops of chattering
monkeys.

One other shrine may be mentioned here; even though it is more a

museum than a temple, it has become one of Banaras’s biggest attractions
and is revealing in its own way of the status of Tulsīd s’s epic in Banaras.
Tulsī M nas temple, an enormous marble-faced edifice that stands in an
ornate garden on the main road linking the city with the university, was
built by a wealthy Calcutta merchant and opened by the president of India
in the mid-1960s. The fact that the two levels of its inner walls bear the
entire text of the Ramcharitmanas inscribed in white marble is but one of
its curiosities. It also contains a life-sized mechanical image of Tulsīd s,
perpetually reciting his epic via an extremely scratchy recording; a library
 79

of R m yan-related literature; and a sort of religious penny arcade where,

for fifty paise, one may view a series of electrified dioramas of
mythological scenes. This Disneyesque approach to the beloved Hindi
epic —in an architectural setting that causes art historians to shudder —
has scored a great popular success, and today hardly a pilgrim leaves
Banaras without a visit to the Manas Temple.”
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16. Banaras. ‘Abode of thieves’.

All the superlative descriptions about Banaras will mislead the reader and
the visitor if I do not also write about the ‘other Banaras’. The title of this
chapter is borrowed from a 12th century text by Hemchandra, Kum ra
charita. In his interesting book, Where cultural symbols meet, Dr. Rana
P.B. Singh analyses literature of the past five centuries, in which different
aspects of Banaras are described. Relying on that study, I am selectively
quoting only those passages which highlight the ‘other Banaras’.

In the play Premjogin (in Hindi), by Harischandra Bharatendu

(1850-1885), an outsider comes on the stage and speaks to the people of
Banaras. This is Banaras about one hundred and fifty years ago, in the
view of Bharatendu. The translation from Hindi is by me.

Look at your K shī, friends,

look at your K shī.
City of the Lord of the universe,
the Indestructible Lord.
Half of K shī is an abode of bards,
of fortune-tellers, Brahmans and ascetics.
The other half is occupied by prostitutes,
widows and courtesans.
Full of idle loafers and cannabis addicts,
scoundrels, sweepers and thieves.
Greedy liars and notorious rogues,
having no concern for anything.
They never do their duty,
only ridiculing others.
They abuse you if you work
ruining your reputation.
Rich people are liars, always offensive,
worshippers of treachery.
Cowards living on recommendation,
flatterers preaching high morality.
K shī, filthy alleys full of garbage and
rotting waste of leatherworkers.
The foul smell from drains like
eighty-four hells making you vomit.
 81

K shī, aggressively barking dogs,

roaming bullocks destroying roads.
Monkeys leaping from balconies,
like men jumping from on high.
On the gh t-s pand -s exploit you,
strangling you with garlands.
With false pretences ritual priests, real
cheats, liberate you of your clothes.
Beggars trailing behind you cheat,
speaking like big givers.
In the temple the priests cheat,
making a joke of religious acts.
If you dare to shop the salesman
cheats, snaring you to deceive.
Shopkeepers sell their goods and
rob you at the same time.
After a theft even the police cheat,
making friendly talk with you.
In the court both lawyers and judges
cheat, stripping you naked.
Roaming pickpockets push you
and snatch your valuables.
Like a naked dancing-girl without shame
people go to jail without remorse.
Calling on officers and giving them bribes,
it’s a daily routine.
If you have fever and go to a temple
you will be ruined.
With hungry children at home
the housewife is a slave.
Erotic stories are devoured,
swallowed like divine nectar.
Look at your K shī, friends,
look at your K shī.

The same author Bharatendu writes in 1871:

“Lanes are never cleaned. They are full of mud; fermented

mangoes give an intolerable smell. Anyone constructing or
repairing his house throws the waste materials in the galleys...
‘Giving shelter’ to cows and buffaloes people block the streets...
Prostitutes are slowly capturing the streets of households, wine
shops are increasing.”
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From Rana P.B. Singh, Where cultural symbols meet, p. 110.

In another play by Bharatendu, Andher Nagar (or ‘the dark city’, as

opposed to K shī, the ‘city of light’) a Brahman in Banaras says:

“Give me a rupee, I will give you my caste. For a rupee I will

convert a laundryman into a Brahman, and a Brahman into a
laundryman. For a rupee I can arrange anything you ask for. For a
rupee I make true what is false, for a rupee I declare a Brahman a
Moslem, for a rupee I make a Hindu a butcher. For a rupee I can
sell dharma and prestige. For a rupee I can witness in favour of
falsehood, for a rupee I recognize sin as merit. For a rupee I accept
bastards as ancestors. All —the Vedas, dharma, ancestry,
morality, truthfulness, prestige—, all are on sale for a rupee.”

From Rana P.B. Singh, Where cultural symbols meet, p. 112.

“Widows, bulls, steps and ascetics. Avoid them and only then you can live
in K shī”, we read in Shiv Prasad Singh, Galū ge murati hai, [in Hindi],
1974, p. 145. The author further points out that Banaras has an ancient
history of manipulation and trickery, even in mythological stories. I have
referred (in chapter 11) to the famous story of king Harischandra who
underwent torturing punishments in order to be faithful to his vow.
Tradition holds that he left for heaven with all his truthful followers,
leaving only liars and scoundrels behind in Banaras.

Shiv Prasad Singh also mentions the debate of Dayanand

Sarasvati, founder of the Arya Samaj. In 1856 he was defeated in a public
debate about the Upanishads. He was asked about a sacred metre in those
texts and had to admit he did not know. This confused him so much that
he lost in the debate, and then found out that the particular metre did not
even exist! Such and many more instances have not failed to give the city
of Banaras the notorious honour of cultivating the art of transforming
anything into its opposite, the unreal into real, the false into true.

Even if one takes into account that western travellers to India

often had an exaggerated bias, it is interesting to see what François
Bernier, Travels in the Mogul empire (pp. 334-335), writes after his visit
to Banaras in 1667:

“The town of Banaras, seated on the Ganges, in a beautiful

situation, and in the midst of an extremely fine and rich country,
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may be considered the general school of the Gentiles. It is the

Athens of India, whither resort the Brahmens and other devotees,
who apply their minds to study. The town contains no colleges or
regular classes, as in our universities, but resembles rather the
schools of the ancients; the masters being dispersed over different
parts of the town in private houses, and principally in the gardens
of the suburbs, which the rich merchants permit them to occupy.
Some of these masters have four disciples, others six or seven, and
the most eminent may have twelve or fifteen; but this is the largest
number. It is usual for the pupils to remain ten or twelve years
under their respective preceptors, during which time the work of
instruction proceeds but slowly; for the generality of them are of
an indolent disposition, owing, in a great measure, to their diet and
the heat of the country. Feeling no spirit of emulation, and
entertaining no hope that honours or emolument may be the
reward of extraordinary attainments, as with us, the scholars
pursue the studies slowly, and without much to distract their
attention”.
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17. Architecture in Banaras

If there is one area where a casual visitor to Banaras has to be careful not
to be deceived, then it is in the field of architecture. With its narrow alleys
winding through tall buildings the layout of the ancient city looks very
erratic. It is definitely not. There is a strict pattern in the way the streets
are laid out and the houses are constructed, going back to a period when
the architect of a civil construction was aware of the very close relation
between the plan of a building and the macrocosmic order I wrote about in
chapter 2:

“How can an individual achieve harmony in his personal life, or

how can a society function properly? By trying to bring the order
that governs the unseen macrocosm down to the level of the
microcosm in which we live and which we are”.

Scholars studying these ancient rules for civil architecture (V stu-ś stra)
have tried to convince me that the way you situate your house according
to the cardinal directions, or build the entrance to your house, or plan the
layout of the rooms in your house, should be done in accordance with
cosmic laws. They should be universally valid, even outside India.

I disagree, especially if they tell me that my house in Belgium has

a perfect design: our living area has the main window to the north, and is
cold for most of the year. In India the northern section of a building is
especially auspicious according to the cosmic prescriptions... and less hot
in summer! It may well be that many ‘cosmic prescriptions’ have their
basis in a very intelligent and systematic analysis of climatological
requirements in India. What of course does not amaze us is the fact that
many of these ancient architectural designs allot the best parts of a site or
of a building to the higher castes. That too increases my doubt about the
macrocosmic origin of the design.

Traditional architecture should express in the design of a building

that the battle between gods and demons (of mythological times), between
good and evil forces, continues to be fought. The ground plan of a
construction is basically square. In that square a demon is lying down and
he has to be kept down by putting walls, pillars and windows on the right
spots. At the same time delicate points in the body of the demon (of the
 85

ground plan) should not be hurt by pillars, walls or windows. It is

essential also that the direction of his head, or legs, is taken into account,
and that explains the positioning of a house in a site.

As a result, a house or a temple is not only built as a shelter for

humans or gods: it is also a continuous control of evil forces. Evil is
subdued in stone, order has victory over chaos. For those (few) who have
this insight, a house is like so many other things in India an occasion to
meditate, to make the day sacred. For, evil is not only a force outside me,
it is also trying to dominate my inner self.

The insight is great, but also leads to the wildest superstitions. At

the same time, it is the underlying force that has given cohesion to the
different communities living in Banaras. I am not the only person fearing
that with the modern urbanization not taking this insight into account, the
inner harmony of the individuals living in Banaras may partly be in
danger.

Houses are constructed in units, divided by the famous Banaras

alleys. Often such a unit has small shops on the street side, but the living
quarters surround an inner courtyard, to which one has access through a
gate which may be closed at night. Each such unit may house a different
community, Moslem or Hindu, or depending on the region in India where
people hail from. To the non-specialist this division in units is visible
because of the concentration of similar trades in particular areas: silk,
brass, books, cloth and so on.

Finally, let us look at a typical house in Banaras. Without going

into details I can point out a few elements which can easily be observed.
A front door opening onto the alley is usually marked on the floor by a
stone step. One has to step over the doorstep, symbolically entering a new
(sacred) space. This may of course have a practical origin, as it is
observed also in e.g. tribal dwellings, but in the context of the V stu-
ś stra it has a very strong symbolic meaning. As the door lintel is low, a
grownup person has to (symbolically) bend his or her head. (The ideal
height of a door is twice the breadth). There may be a resting place in the
entrance hall, so that a visitor may sit down without actually entering the
house. It is a place of ‘transition’.

Even if the size of a house or palace in Banaras is different, the

layout is basically the same. Around the central courtyard one observes
staircases and service rooms. Ideally the kitchen should be in the
southeast corner of the house, the toilets in the southwest, living quarters
 86

to the north. Often the cooking is done in one of the verandas —especially
if a joint family occupies a complete building— if the central courtyard
has enough space for verandas.

Typical for Banaras —in fact for many old cities in India— is the
question to a stranger: “from where do you come?”. Locally that means
that each person belongs to a particular extended unit of houses (called
mohall ), associated not only with a geographical location but also, and
especially, with a certain group, a profession and a specific social level.
The residents of Banaras are conscious of belonging to a city. They show
certain characteristics that are associated with the city. In practice,
however, they prefer to associate themselves with their neighbourhood.
This may in some way be true anywhere in the world, but like so many
situations in the Hindu view of life, architectural geography has a
religious sanction, a sacred and symbolic meaning. The mohall you
belong to also tells something about your caste and the region in India you
come from. Some neighbourhoods are also called after the person who,
several centuries ago, founded the settlement, often by building a big
house. These first settlers may have been Hindu or Moslem. Even if most
modern inhabitants may know little or nothing about the settler after
whom their neighbourhood is named, they will in many cases be very
conscious about the typical characteristics and attitudes of their mohall .

Studying the neighbourhoods is studying the history of Banaras

and its expansion during the last centuries. If the core of the ancient city
was around the Chauk and Dashashvamedha gh t, each new settler cut
down the forest surrounding that core, and put up his house or palace, or
temple. One of the most recent such expansions is near the Ramnagar
bridge (K shī station), where the Krishnamurti Foundation acquired a
huge property around 1960 and built a school and meditation centre.
There most of the trees were not cut down. On the other side, south of the
city, Banaras Hindu university built its beautiful campus.

There may be more than 500 mohall -s in inner-Banaras. The

average population of a mohall may be about 1,000, each one having a
predominant caste or professional characteristic. Information about each
neighbourhood —the population, the number of houses, chief castes and
their populations— may be obtained from the police station that has
jurisdiction in the area.

In each of the hundreds of mohall -s, there may be a central

temple, a shrine or mosque, a pond or a well. Before Banaras knew its real
expansion early in the previous century, lakes and waterholes were very
 87

important, and several mohall -s are named after these places of water
supply. Typical for Banaras also are the mohall events, organized by the
neighbourhood on the occasion of a religious festival. Open spaces and
streets are transformed into open air auditoria, with banners, canopies and
lights. Everyone is welcome, but the organization of a cultural event is not
without competition with other neighbourhoods. Nita Kumar comments:

“The number of celebrations multiplies over the years as a result

of the incentive of competition. More and more little shrines
have large scale public anniversaries, marked with all night
music, fairs, and decoration, most of all to show off the
efficiency and enthusiasm of the organisers of the mohalla. It is
a matter of regret, undoubtedly, that activists are uninterested in
directing their energies to ‘instrumental’ and ‘developmental’
ends: the building of roads, repairs of gh t and cleaning of
public spaces.
At the less dramatic level of everyday life, too, it is the mohalla
which is the locus of activity. Women do not go out much
further afield than in their own neighbourhoods or the
immediate bordering ones. Among Moslems, marriages are
arranged within families preferably in the same mohalla.... Men
have a sense of freedom in moving around the whole city, for
purposes of business or pleasure. Yet every person, man or
woman, speaks with superlative affection and respect for his or
her own mohalla and in somewhat derogatory terms of others”.

In Couté & Léger, Bénarès, p. 36f.

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18. Kabīr. Who created his verses?

This chapter may shatter an illusion!

In chapter 8, I referred to Kabīr, known all over India, who lived

in the Banaras area around 1450. But who created the now so famous
verses with the name ‘Kabīr’? In my Millennium edition of the devotional
songs (pad-s) of Kabīr, I give a total of 593 songs with his name in the
last line. If not all were created by him, which of these are actually of
Kabīr?

There may be several reasons why one has interest in the mystics-
reformers (Bhaktas or Bhakti poets) of the 14-17th centuries in northern
India. Besides the scholarly interest, I have been attracted by their
inspiring and very modern message. Finding such a message in another
culture (too) is not a threat to one’s own tradition. On the contrary. It is a
gift —in this period of increased communication, and of growing
openness in the west— that reveals other aspects of the Divine, or puts
renewed accents.

But, do we enjoy the songs as they were created by the particular

poet, or were they created by the later tradition?

The songs of the mystics-reformers were first sung. Only around

1600 they were written down. Hence, since we have no recordings of the
period, our only way to the original ‘sung’ version is through a
comparison of manuscripts now scattered all over the region, often in
remote villages.

For the last 40 years I have travelled extensively all over

Rajasthan, as well as to Delhi, Banaras, Punjab, Pune and even Thanjavur
in search of manuscripts. Every year I discovered new —often private—
collections with ancient manuscript material, and along with my
increasing databank of bhakti literature on film grew also the conviction
that preservation of manuscripts and critical text-editions are a first
priority for a student of Indian culture. The economic situation in India is
such that the preservation of manuscripts is not the highest priority,
although serious efforts are being made. Yet, thousands of manuscripts
disappear every year, either through decay or lack of care, or because they
 89

are sold to tourists. Steps have to be taken to avert the catastrophe already
underway as the result of the neglect of the vast collections of
manuscripts. If these collections are allowed to rot away and are not even
microfilmed, there will be little left with which to study Indian
contributions to the world or to draw inspiration from.

In fact the greater part of India’s literature survives only in

manuscripts, and the part that has been edited has been edited uncritically
in many cases, and on the basis of only a small number of available
manuscripts. We should remember that classical Indology, of Sanskrit and
Buddhist texts, started in the 19th century, and the only material available
was what the British had brought from India and preserved in the India
Office Library, London. Of course, we have walked a long way since
then, but there are still hundreds of miles ahead of us, for the next 25
rebirths.

Let us imagine we are travelling through Northwest India in 1550,

on bumpy roads after the rainy season or on sandy tracks in Rajasthan. We
spend the nights on the floor in temples and watch the audiences drawn by
travelling singers singing songs of Bhakti. These singers, like the Puranic
bards, received extended hospitality depending on the quality and depth of
their performance and they sang what appealed most to the local feelings.
We are on the way to Rajasthan after a visit to Banaras, where a few years
before Raid s had died, and where the oldest member in the singers’
family had heard a person called Kabīr. The repertoire of this family of
travelling musicians went on expanding and eventually some of them
started to feel the need to write down songs.

The singers sang the songs which were most in demand, such as
those of Kabīr, which they had learned from their fathers. The singers
themselves too were poets and often very religious. Inspired by a
particular environment they added new, sometimes their own songs, to the
repertoire of Kabīr.

Memory was their only way of recording, but as the repertoires

grew bigger, some musicians started to keep little (or big) notebooks as an
aid to their memory. The earliest manuscripts seem to have had these
notebooks as their basis. The manuscripts of the 17th century that have
been preserved are copies of these early notes now lost. Scholars of the
21st century have to rely on 17th century manuscripts to reconstruct the
version of the repertoires of the singers.

I do not sayŚ “to reconstruct what Kabīr was singing!”.

 90

Travelling singers knew no borders. They easily walked from the

kingdoms in and around Banaras through the Mughal territories to the
princely States in Rajasthan, or from the Maratha country to the Punjab.
With an amazing ease also they moved from one language to another,
using a supra-regional medium, while at the same time picking up local
idioms and words in an effort to adjust to local audiences. This effort is
responsible for the linguistic chaos we find in the manuscripts.

As a result, the text-critic cannot reconstruct a scribal archetype,

that is the original manuscript in which Kabīr’s songs were written down.
There never was a scribal archetype.

When around 1500 the Moslem weaver Kabīr sang his songs in
Banaras, nobody could have imagined that at the beginning of the 21st
century he would be —along with Tulsīd s— the most frequently quoted
poet-saint in North-India. But at the same time he is probably also one of
the most wrongly quoted saints. Rabindranath Tagore, who in 1913 was
the first Asian to win the Nobel price, translated 100 of Kabīr’s songs and
made Kabīr known all over the world.

But, having now prepared a critical edition of the songs of Kabīr, I

do not hesitate to propose that hardly any of the Tagore songs was created
by Kabīr. I can understand that a translator of Kabīr or a devotee finding
inspiration in Kabīr’s beautiful sayings may look for a nice song without
bothering about its authenticity. But let us not start writing commentaries
on Kabīr and on 16th century Banaras quoting those songs.

In the Banaras region these days, Kabīr is associated with newly

married couples or young couples going to be married. Long lists of
songs, supposedly of Kabīr, are sung on the evenings preceding the
wedding. The association of Kabīr and weddings is so strong in that
region that in colloquial language the expression “ j kab r hai ky ?”,
means: “Isn’t tonight your honeymoon night?”

In 1556 Akbar ascended the Moghul throne in Agra, two

generations after Kabīr may have died in Banaras. The dates of Kabīr
(traditionally he is said to have lived for 120 years, till 1519) are not
certain. I am inclined to accept the dates ca. 1450-1518 (proposed by
David Lorenzen). Even these 68 years may have been a relatively long life
for a (poor) weaver in Banaras in those days. The first attested written
document with his sayings/songs are dated 1572, written no doubt
alongside with the ongoing oral tradition.
 91

When everything is said and done, one question remains: how

could Kabīr become so charismatic that many devotees, possibly during
his lifetime and definitely after his death, were happy to insert his name as
‘identity-card’ (bhanit ) in their own compositions and let those songs
circulate with his name, not their own name? What was his genius that
eventually was changed into a social consciousness strongly influencing
later generations? If singers in India did perhaps not even know who the
original Kabīr was, why were they happy to include their own good,
sometimes excellent compositions in the repertoires that are performed in
Kabīr’s name?

What we have here is a social strategy by which certain ideas are

promoted using the charismatic name of a person who as such ceased to
exist long ago, who may not even have supported the very ideas that are
now spread in his name. If today the singers in Rajasthan are sponsored
by Brahmins, as they are, their songs will not be as outspoken in their
criticism of Brahmins as Kabīr was in Banaras in 1500.

One more observation: my exercise may perhaps not only shed

some light on the real Kabīr. It also reveals an essential Indian attitude
which is very different from the Western way of thinking. It has to do
with ‘belonging to a tradition’ as opposed to ‘individual authorship’.
I argue that Kabīr very soon was ‘appropriated’ by interested parties, from
the Gorakhn thī-s and the R m nandī-s in the 17th century to the Brahmin
scholar Hazari P. Dvivedi and even Mahatma Gandhi in the 20th century.
Kabīr was appropriated for their own ideological purpose or benefit. And
thus, as time passed, the corpus of songs with Kabīr’s name kept
increasing.

Let me explain my argument “Kabīr very soon was ‘appropriated’

by interested parties”. The first such an interested party, as I can see, were
the Gorakhn thī-s, who used Kabīr’s popularity and the few yogic
references in his songs, to promote their own ideas. In the N th
manuscripts of the early 17th century in Rajasthan, Kabīr is very
abundantly quoted, as if he were a N th a yogi himself.

The next interested party were the R m nandī-s around 1600, who
even adjusted the earliest biography (by Anantad s) to make Kabīr a
disciple of R m nanda. This is an example avant la lettre of a
promotional stunt, in the way our politicians now use sports heroes or pop
song idols to promote their own cause.
 92

Another fine example of appropriation is the Brahmin scholar

Hazari Prasad Dvivedi and many of his peers in the second half of the 20th
century. In his milestone publication called Kab r, in 1942, Dvivedi
clearly emphasizes one dominant theme: the image of Kabīr as an ideal
man for the 20th century, and his rootedness in the Indian tradition. The
issue is of finding roots for the growing national awareness of new India.
That exemplar is Kabīr and through the pen of Dvivedi, Kabīr becomes
the exemplar of a person committed to a task, which is to create an ideal
man serving mankind. This idea may of course be somewhere in Kabīr’s
earliest songs, but you need a strong magnifying glass to find it. For
Dvivedi the commitment to a task becomes Kabīr’s main idea. In this way
Dvivedi arrives at a biography that runs from imperfection through crisis
to perfection. And that is the ideal for modern man in a new India. That
image is rooted in a glorious past and thus the circle is round.

I may add here that it fits perfectly in Dvivedi’s scheme that the
low caste and Moslem weaver Kabīr was initiated by the orthodox
Brahmin R m nanda —the first appropriation, one may remember.

“They were happy to include their own good, sometimes excellent

compositions in the repertoires that are performed in Kabīr’s name”.

In the west this would be called, I suppose, inverted plagiarism

and I do not know how the copyright laws can deal with this. Let us
imagine: a good scholar produces a wonderful piece of research and
publishes it in an outstanding journal under the name of another famous
author! The original author gladly gives up the honour of publishing in his
or her own name because —and this is one explanation for the
phenomenon I have discussed—, because it is more important for him/her
to belong to the tradition of the famous author. This would give the
original author more satisfaction than if he published under his own name.
Something like this definitely happened in the 16-17th centuries, when
good poet-mystics created good songs and circulated them in the singing
tradition with the name of Kabīr; giving up their own authorship. In this
respect the mediaeval Indian psyche is different from our modern western
attitude. It is essential for an Indian to have a grounding in an
authoritative past, to be part of a living memory, to be inscribed in an
ongoing social consciousness, to be linked to what Indians call a
parampar , an authoritative tradition. A similar phenomenon is noticed in
the guru-disciple relationship, or in the gotra awareness in the caste
system.
 93

This need to be linked to a glorious past may help to explain why

individual authorship became less relevant.

I argue that not all the songs and verses attributed to Kabīr in even
critical editions are created by him, but one thing is certain: what he
thought he said, and what he said he said strongly; he was often abusive,
or at times deeply mystical, but always impressive.

The following line cannot have endeared him to the slickly robed, nicely
perfumed Moslem q z -s,

If God had wanted to make me a Moslem,

why didn’t He make the incision?

or have earned him the affection of the argumentative Brahmin pandits

with whom he lived,

Vedas, Puranas --why read them?

It's like loading an ass with sandalwood!,

but his testy aphorisms did ensure that the common people still take in
what he said —storekeepers, fishermen, housewives, and rickshaw
drivers— and his words are on their tongues to this day.
 94

19. Raid s. Low-caste and Bhakta

Can I claim I have averted an ecological disaster in Banaras?

My friend and very respected Kabīr scholar professor Sukhdev

Singh of Banaras Hindu university (co-author of the Linda Hess English
translation of Kabīr’s B jak), introduced me in 1989 to the Raid s temple
along the Gang , near the bridge to Ramnagar. The temple was not yet
complete, but the plans were great. “This is going to become a very
important temple”, said the professor, “and we plan to construct a road
right along the Gang , up to the Dashashvamedh gh t several kilometres
upstream. “What?”, I exclaimed, “please do not do that.” “Oh well, if you
say so, we will not”, the professor replied and seemed convinced. And the
matter was closed (for ever). When Raid s sang his songs of surrender in
Banaras around 1500 and invited the scorn of the Brahmins, he would not
have imagined that in his honour, in 1965 land would be bought along the
Gang to the North of the main gh ts and a temple be built in 1972.

Now, the temple is famous no doubt and since I was there,

politicians have been invading the site.

In Nov 2011, as part of his mass contact programme, Rahul

Gandhi (Congress), without any notice or information, arrived in Banaras
and visited the Sant Ravid s Mandir and offered prayers in the temple.
The decision of Rahul Gandhi to visit the temple was considered very
strategic and timely. UP Chief Minister Mayawati had skipped to visit
Ravi Das Mandir earlier due to ‘security reasons’ and instead offered a
golden 'p lak ' (litter) to the temple. In February 2016 Prime Minister
Modi attended the Jayantī (birthday anniversary) celebrations at the
temple and addressed a gathering of Dalits. BJP leaders polished the shoes
of the followers (‘Raid sī-s’) on their way to the temple. The message
wasŚ ‘the BJP believes in the ideology of Ravid s, who belonged to a
family of cobblers’. The political activity is quite understandable,
especially in the state Uttar Pradesh, where in 1994 a ‘low-caste’ coalition
ruled. It should not amaze us: parties of different kinds have heavily
sponsored the building of the Raid s temple!

As with most Bhakti saints of the 16th century very little is

historically known about Raid s, but present day ‘biographies’ (google
 95

‘Sant Ravidas’) give all kinds of details, including the exact day of his
birth and death (1377-1540, or163 years!), the name of his father,
grandfather, grandmother and so on. Even the name of his school is given,
but most probably he was illiterate (see below, Parca , 10.9). All these
details were either passed on in an oral tradition of more than 300 years,
or invented after 1700. There is no shame if the biographical data were
‘invented’ centuries laterŚ this happened to all the great saints!

I cannot do justice to the very enriching accents we find in the

songs of Raid s, but one point I should definitely emphasize, because it
stands in contrast with what people in the Jewish, Christian and Muslim
religions are generally used to: the idea of a ‘God up there, in heaven’.
Raid s, and other Bhakti saints, do not cease to describe the experience of
‘God within oneself’.

How can there be a difference

between ‘You’ and ‘I’,
‘I’ and ‘You’,
between gold and bracelet,
water and wave?
In You there are several men,
Oh Indweller.
Through the master,
the servant is known,
through the servant,
the master.
You are in everything and
everything is in You.
Your servant Raid s says in confusion:
where are You? 7

Brahmins in Banaras were certainly shocked when the low-caste cobbler

attracted huge crowds away from their rituals(see below, Parca ). His
message was simple and clear, without arrogance and self-interest and he
still is, in the 21st century, a catalyst for all who yearn after the ‘the Master
of the meek’. Humble is his origin and humble also is human existence,
and the voice of Raid s sounds for all, then and now, who identify with
that status.

In Rajasthan, his fame earned him a place of honour in the

prestigious Panca-v n (‘Five Voices’) manuscript compilations of
7 Winand M. Callewaert and Peter Friedlander, The life and works of Raid s, Manohar,
Delhi, 1992, p. 125.
 96

around 1600. In that collection, several performers of Bhakti songs at the

same time brought together in one repertoire the songs and verses of the
Bhaktas who were then at the top of the list in each performance of Bhakti
devotionŚ D dū, Kabīr, N mdev, Raid s and Hard s. In Panjab too, when
the Sikh Guru Arjan, in 1605, compiled the di-Granth, Raid s was
quoted (40 pad-s) as a precursor and as an inspirer, along with other
famous Bhaktas.

When we study the earliest written sources and try to reconstruct

his biography, very little emerges as ‘historical’. Even if the data are few,
one fact stands for certain; the cham r Raid s was very popular in
Banaras and he excelled in all controversies with the local Brahmins (this
aspect is totally missing in today’s Google account!).

For the ‘biography’ of Raid s, I should like to examine the

following itemsŚ Raid s or Ravid s, his guru, dates of birth and death,
Mīr , and the interaction with the Brahmins. I found two kinds of early
manuscript sources mentioning Raid s. I refer here only to a few; for more
details, see Bib1 (pp. 11-21)8.

One, the Punjabi sources:

the di-Granth (1604),
the v r collection of Bh ī Gurd s (the ‘scribe’ of the di-Granth;
1551-1629),
Poth premambodha (1693, i.e. nearly two centuries after Raid s).
Two, the Hindi sources:
the Anantad s Raid s Parca (before 1600?),
the N bhad s Bhaktam l (ca. 1600),
the Priy d s Bhaktirasabodhin (1712),

In the di-Granth of the Sikhs, that unique compilation of Bhakti

literature in North-India, Raid s of Banaras is quoted as Ravid s. He is
quoted first in the collection of the fourth Guru, R md s, who died in
1581:

Ravid s the cham r praised God,

and every moment sang the praises of the One God.
Though of a fallen j ti he became exalted,

8 For well documented and updated research, I refer to the publications of Peter
Friedlander, in Brill’s Encyclopaedia of Sikhism (forthcoming, 2016)ś also his article
on the Ganga, Ravidas and Appropriation in (forthcoming) Conceiving the Goddess,
Editors Jayant Bapat and Ian Mabbett, Monash University Press, Melbourne.
 97

and all four castes came and fell at his feet ( di-Granth, p. 733).
(also di-Granth, p. 835).
and,
Ravid s who regularly carted cattle carcasses,
Renounced m y .
He entered the company of the pure
and obtained a vision of Hari ( di-Granth, p. 487).

Ravid s or Raid s? This is an interesting case of one manuscript

tradition against another, of one regional pronunciation against another.
He is known as Ravid s in Panjab and now generally also in the Banaras
region, but in the early (Rajasthani) manuscripts we generally find Raid s
(with the minor variants Rayad s, Red s, Raud s and Remd sś the forms
Rohid s in Gujarati and Marathi, and Ruid s in Bengali are not found in
the early manuscripts).

I dare to argue that the original name was Raid s, and that the
more Sanskritized (tatsam) form in the di-Granth, and in later texts, may
have to do with the appropriation of the cobbler Raid s on to the Brahmin
level. Isn’t also the effort, in the Raid s Parca of Anantad s, to make the
Brahmin R m nanda his guru to be seen in that perspective? No shame.
Kabīr too was later said to be initiated by the same Brahmin R m nanda
and the Muslim D dū in Rajasthan became (in later ‘biographies’) a
foundling raised by a childless Brahmin couple. No wonder that the
genius and popular mystic Raid s was raised to a higher status.

But there is no doubt, Raid s was ‘of a fallen j ti’ and he

‘regularly carted cattle carcasses’. Bh ī Gurd s confirms that “there was a
poor cham r [Ravid s]; he mended shoes in the middle of the road. His
family duty was to gather and cart carcasses” 9.

In the Poth premambodha, the earliest known Panjabi

hagiography of Ravid s, of 1693, we find five accounts: how Ravid s had
a vision of God in a dream, the episodes of ‘the coin and the bracelet’ and
‘the test of the ś ligr m-s’, his final vision of the Lord and his entering
into sam dhi.

The Anantad s Raid s Parca is the earliest ‘Hindi’ account about Raid s
(I published a text edition and English translation in Winand M.
Callewaert, The Hagiographies of Anantad s. The Bhakti Poets of North
India, Curzon, 2000, 414pp.).
9 See J.S. Sabar, Bhagat Ravid s srodha pustak, GNDU Press, Amritsar, 1984, pp. 53-
54.
 98

Sometime before or around 1600 AD Anantad s, an ascetic of the

R m nandī order in Rajasthan, felt inspired to bring together in a poetic
composition the different legends he had heard about the great Bhaktas.
He most probably did not use ink or paper, but sang and composed as he
recited, convinced that he earned great merit doing that. It is not unlikely
that the story he himself sang a couple of years later was slightly different,
because of a particular need or bias in an audience or because he had
learnt something more in the meantime. But the purpose was always the
same: to sing the praises of the saint and proclaim the supremacy of
devotion (bhakti) to God (called Hari, or R m).

He sang about N mdev, Kabīr, Raid s, Dhan , Aṅgad, Trilochan

and Pīp . More famous Bhaktas he could not have chosen and four of
them (Kabīr, Dhan , Pīp and Raid s), he says, were initiated by
R m nanda. The others, N mdev, Aṅgad and Trilochan were too far away
in the past, even for his sense of history to call them disciples of
R m nanda. This association with R m nanda was repeated by N bh
and R ghavd s in their Bhaktam l-s, and by later tradition, but doubted
by the great Hindi scholar Par ur m Chaturvedī (1964) and modern
scholarship. In fact, it may have been Anantad s who was responsible for
this association, possibly along with the growing tradition of fashioning
R m nanda, in the 17th century, as the founder of the R m nandī sect.

Many legends about the saints must have been at the disposal of
Anantad s. Already in his days dozens of legends about the famed Kabīr
and Raid s of Banaras of more than 100 years before, were circulating in
Rajasthan. For the other Bhaktas he had to be satisfied with just a couple
of legends.

These parca -s composed by Anantad s became very popular

matter for travelling singers and Bhaktas, who drew great inspiration from
the miracles, the encounters of the saints with Brahmins and Qazis and
their unfaltering trust in God never deserting them. The travelling singers
who memorized the parca -s of Anantad s were themselves also poets,
capable of adding or changing a line or two. The result of their genius and
creativity is a headache and a challenge for the text critic who looks at
manuscripts and tries to restore what Anantad s originally may have
recited.

A study of the parca -s of Anantad s gives not only an insight in a

very creative period of oral transmission. These parca -s are also like a
video of late 16th century social and religious thinking. When around
 99

1600, a Rajasthani writes or sings about Banaras, what stereotypes does

he have about the city and what does he emphasize? I cannot help
thinking that in the parca of Raid s (and of Kabīr) the focus seems to be
on the interaction with the Brahmins. Most incidents are in fact
confrontations between the Bhaktas of Hari and the ritualistic Brahmins.
Of course, the lives of other saints too were not spared from such
confrontations. Interestingly, today’s google account only a friendship
with a Brahmin boy is described!

In Appendix I give the translation of the complete Raid s Parca

by Anantad s, because of the interesting details:

Raid s was punished to be born as a Shudra because in a previous

birth he was a Brahmin who ate meat (1.3) or “did not know Hari”
(12.6). He will all his life confront the Brahmins as a Shudra.
Because of his excellent preaching and singing, the Brahmins were
angry (4.11) and advise him that he “should remain content
remembering Hari's name,
but never must you worship the ś ligr m”. (4.15)

The Brahmins even ignored the king's decree (4.17). All of chapter 5
is devoted to this confrontation. As in a traditional debate, the
Brahmins produce arguments quoted from the scriptures to prove
that low caste people should stay away from rituals (5.14ff.), but
Raid s gives equally compelling examples to prove his point. This
reaches a climax when eventually the ś ligr m comes to Raid s, and
not to the Brahmins (6.16).

Five years later comes the episode with the queen of Chittaur. There
again the Brahmins propose themselves as sole initiators (7.8), eager
to get a free ride to Banaras. The queen even has to play hide-and-
seek with them. The Brahmins are especially furious because she
received initiation from a low caste person (8.2). Verses 8.3ff. are a
pathetic litany of hysterical Brahmanical behaviour. Another low
caste man, Kabīr is called upon to settle the dispute. After this
tumultuous confrontation the parca continues smoothly, until the
queen arrives back home and there has to confront her family’s
Brahmins “who died of jealousy” (11.8). The queen does not hesitate
to tell them, and everyone in Rajasthan:

One is mean if one’s actions are mean,

one is excellent if one performs meritorious deeds.
Excellence and meanness are in one’s actions,
 100

in the human body alone there is no excellence at all.

Desire, anger, greed and the nine gates,
through these all are cham rs.
One who conquers these becomes excellent -
who speaks there of Brahmins or of famous V lmīki-s?
Caste and family have no importance —
one who sings of R m is dear to R m. (11.9-11)

However, Raid s advises her “to make them happy, ..., and
grudgingly she decided to feed the Brahmins” (11.14), who
eventually are converted and admit that Raid s is a saint and “we are
sinners” (11.22). Does one often hear such a statement from the
mouth of a Brahmin? At the end of the parca they even throw away
their sacred threads and become the disciples of Raid s (12. 9).

In 1993 the Banarasi scholar Shukdeo Singh published his Raid s parica ,
(Vishvavidy lay prak an, V r ṇasī, 88p.), in which he gives the raid s k
parica (Hindi) on pp. 19-38 and the English translation on pp. 57-86, but
it appears that not all his selected readings are attested by the manuscripts.
Because of the devotional and political importance of Raid s, Singh’s text
of the Raid s parca has been inscribed on the inner walls of the Raid s
temple along the Ganges in Banaras.

Again, probably copying the Anantad s Parca , ca. 1600 or 80

years after Raid s’s death, N bhad s, another R m nandī, lists in his
Bhaktam l, Raid s as one of the 12 disciples of R m nanda, and “the
words he spoke were in accord with Shruti-s, Sh stra-s and right
conduct”. In the even later Commentary (1712) on this Bhaktam l, the
Priy d s Bhaktirasabodhin , we find seven episodes about Raid s: his
past life, his birth and childhood, the test of the philosopher’s stone, the
gift of the gold coins, the initiation of queen Jh lī of Chittaur, the feast at
Chittaur and the revelation of the golden sacred thread within his chest.

In the recent google account we read that “in his childhood he

went to the Pathshala of his Guru, [the Brahmin] Pt. Sharda Nand”, “and
became the friend of the son” of the Pandit. There has been considerable
dispute over the issue of who, if anyone, was the guru of Raid s.
R m nandī sources, such as Anantad s, N bhad s, and Priy d s describe
Raid s as a disciple of R m nanda. The non-R m nandī sources, such as
the Panjabi Poth premambodha of 1693, do not mention any guru at all.
And, any claim about the guru of Raid s must account for the fact that in
his own songs he does himself not refer to a guru.
 101

It is not clear who was the first R m nandī to claim that Kabīr and
Raid s were disciples of R m nanda, but it is very likely that the
motivation for such a claim might have been the desire to increase the
mahim or greatness of R m nanda, adding such illustrious Sants to the
list of his disciples. Modern scholarship has doubted the authenticity of
this guru-disciple relation (see Bib1, p. 25). It is more obvious that Sants
such as Kabīr and Raid s did not accept the authority of mortal gurus, as
they derived their own spiritual awareness, not from a particular human
guru, but from direct experience. This would be in accord with an account
in the Poth premambodha, which attributes Raid s’s spiritual awakening
to the direct experience of God.

What about Mīr b ī?

As late as 1693, in the Poth premambodha, it is recorded that

Mīr b ī came to Banaras to take initiation from Ravid s. This enraged the
Brahmins and caused them to challenge his rights to worship the
ś ligr m.

In the Anantad s Parca of ca. 1600 or 80 years after Raid s’s

death, we read that queen Jh lī had heard about the renown of Kabīr and
Raid s and decided to come to Banaras to take initiation. She visited
Kabīr’s abode (his tentative dates: are 1450-1518) where she saw ascetic
devotees absorbed in sam dhi; they practised austerity and worshipped
neither gods nor goddesses. This did not appeal to her and she then visited
Raid s’s abode, where she saw God enthroned in a temple and great
companies of devotees making music and praising God. This pleased her
and she asked Raid s to be her guru. Raid s initiated her as his disciple.
However, when her family’s Brahmins heard that she had taken Raid s as
her guru, they demanded that she give him up.

The Google account states that “Sant Guru Ravidas Ji is

considered as the spiritual Guru of Meera Bai, who was the queen of
Chittoor”, and continues giving details about the encounter with Raid s
and about Mīr ’s later life and development.

I accept the dates 1503-1546 for Mīr ’s life-time, because there is

no evidence to support these dates or other dates (for more details, see
Bib2, pp. 104-119). The Google account further quotes the line
traditionally attributed to Mīr , “Guru milya Ravidas ji dini gyan ki
gutki…”. We do not know where such lines “of Mīr ” come from, as no
manuscript sources for them are available. For forty years I have been a
manuscript fanatic, with the convictionŚ “What is in the manuscript at a
 102

particular date, was known at that date. What is not in the manuscript at a
particular date, may have been known, may be not”. There is no
manuscript dated before 1800 with the songs of Mīr (the early ‘Dakor
manuscripts’ remain suspicious to me) and therefore these references to
songs of Mīr referring to Raid s are suspect. We should not forget that in
Rajasthan thousands and thousands of manuscripts have been scribed
from before 1600 onwards.

If Mīr died at the age of 43, it is remarkable that at the end of the
th
20 century we find published as many as 5,197 songs with her name (see
Bib2, p.104, n. 3). Of these, 3,797 songs are supposed to be in Hindī, 817
in Gujar tī and 583 by Indir Devī. During his Ph.D. research (1950-
1962) P.N. Tivari supposedly studied 4,614 songs attributed to Mīr .

It has become a boring expression in studies about Mīr that it is

very difficult, if not impossible to decide which and how many songs are
most probably by Mīr . And yet, ever expanding collections go on ap-
pearing. In some editions the question of authenticity is solved on the
basis of content, in others on the basis of language. Rarely do authors
bother to look at the written material.

Of course, it remains a mystery why the written tradition, in the

case of Mīr , seems to have started so late (c. 1800), if we compare it with
the spate of manuscripts with nirguṇa material in Rajasthan, or saguṇa
material in the Braj area from 1600 onwards. Why? Several reasons have
been brought forward. The songs of Mīr very soon became the
(exclusive?) property of women in the home. Women did not scribe, as
sadhus or (male) singers did. Or, the songs of Mīr were scorned, to such
an extent that they never became part of the standard repertoires of
singers. We read in a letter of M. L. Menaria (Udaipur, 1 July, 1938) to
Purohit H. Sharma, Jaipur (the translation from Hindi is mine):

“People here are not interested in Mira Bai as you and I are. Even the
Maharana Sahib believes that Mira has been a black blot on the fair
page of the Mewar history and musicians are not allowed to sing the
pads of Mira Bai in the Palace. But this is only for your private
information. Please do not make a mention of this anywhere in your
book”.

With due respect for the oral traditions, my approach to the problem of
authenticity has always been through the first manuscripts. Even if that
approach, in the case of Mīr , will not add much certainty about authentic
songs, at least it can question the claims made in the numerous editions
 103

current now. One final consideration: without exaggerating the divide

between the nirguna and the saguna traditions, Mīr was a (saguṇa)
Krishna Bhakta, while Raid s was more into nirguṇa devotion.

Conclusion: it looks like a very attractive proposition to say that queen

Jh lī of Chittaur was indeed Mīr , but there is no historical evidence to
support this. On the contrary.
Let me repeat the (tentative) dates:
Kabīr 1450-1518
Raid s 1450-1520
Mīr 1503-1546

If Mīr travelled to Banaras, on a bullock cart or in a palanquin, during

the year before Kabīr died, she was supposedly 14-15 years old. No doubt,
young Rajasthani princesses were tough in those days.
 104

Appendix

THE PARCA OF RAID S 10

— One —

1. In Banaras, that best of cities,

no evil ever visits men.
No one who dies ever goes to hell:
Shankar himself comes with the Name of R m 11.

Birth of Raid s
2. Where ruti and Smriti have authority
there Raid s was reborn,
in the home of a low-caste Sh kta -
his father and mother were both cham rs.
3. In his previous birth he was a Brahmin;
all the time listening to religious recitation, he did not give up meat.
For this sin he was born into a low caste family,
but he remembered his previous birth.
4. He did not drink milk, but only cried and cried,
causing great anxiety in his family.
“In great pain our son has been born.
Has in pain the unique child of a great house been born here?”
5. The women did not sing auspicious songs and
in their anxiety they did not dare to play any instruments.
They summoned many sorcerers and healers
to work magic and give potions.
6. “Whoever saves this dying child’, (they said),
will be hailed as Dhanvantari 12.

10 Lines are indented if they are not found in all the manuscripts collated for my edition of
the Raid s parca . The Hindi text of the Raid s parca is given on pp. 336-356 in
Winand M. Callewaert, The Hagiographies of Anantad s. The Bhakti Poets of North
India, Curzon, 2000.

11 In Banaras the dying take the name of R m to facilitate their passage to the next life.
Anantad s says that Shankar himself visits the dying with the Name of R m as
t rak-mantra on his lips.
12 Dhanvantari is the mythological divine physician.
 105

We will do whatever he says

and heap things in front of him”.
7. Four days passed,
while the mother despaired
and the father grieved with the rest of the family.
Only Raid s found pleasure in dying.
8. Dying is better than living,
for life without Hari is tasteless.
The man who lives but has forgotten Hari,
is like one who drinks poison and is punished by the god Death.
9. Whether poor or wealthy, powerless or powerful,
a fool or a wise man, a king or a beggar,
nobody can cross the ocean of rebirths
without the grace of Hari.
10. As Raid s lay thinking of death,
Hari the compassionate one had mercy on his follower.

Raid s and R m nanda

In the night a heavenly voice was heard,
which in his heart R m nanda understoodŚ
11. “The son born in a cham r’s house
is my devotee born again” and
Hari told R m nanda the story
of what had happened in the past.
12. “With great compassion, give him initiation -
you must by all means save this dying child.”
R m nanda decided
to enlighten the family:
13. “If you become devotees, brothers,
Hari will revive your child.”
The cham r touched R m nanda’s feet, and said:
“Do what you like, Gosv mī.”
14. Without further ado, R m nanda
put his hand on the cham r’s forehead.
He gave them understanding and had the child shaven,
removing and rubbing away his past.
15. And everyone’s heart was gladdened when
Raid s started to suckle at his mother’s breast.
People congratulated them, while drums were beaten
and in every home the sacred pitchers were decorated.
16. In telling the birth story of Raid s
even the Lord finds pleasure.
The bonds of karma are severed:
 106

so sings the devotee, Ananta.

— Two —

1. In this manner, Hari is the benevolent master.

In every age he has removed the misfortunes of his people.
Day by day Raid s grew bigger and
with every new day his love for Hari grew stronger.
2. By the time he was seven
he could practise the nine forms of bhakti.
He served the Lord 13 with all his heart
and never strayed from the path shown by the Satguru.
3. Seven more years passed
and his love for the Lord grew.
The narration of his childhood may be pleasing,
but the family soon grew weary of his devotion.
4. Eventually he was forsaken by the others.
They shared the family’s wealth among themselves,
and sent poor Raid s to the back of the house;
but he never uttered a word of protest.
5. He bought leather from the market
To make fine shoes from it.
He mended broken and torn old shoes as well,
never asking anyone for anything while he toiled.
6. Easily he made money,
not considering any work inferior.
He offered food to the deity in a separate temple,
where only devotees came.
7. He performed the rituals with extreme care
and he knew all the types of worship.
Another seven years thus passed,
while Raid s had to endure many privations.

Raid s and Hari

8. Until finally Hari came in the guise of a devotee,
much to the delight of Raid s.
With all due respect, he seated him
and spoke humble words and washed his feet.
9. For a while he narrated the stories of Hari,
while food was prepared for him.
After the Lord had eaten and sat back,
the conversation turned towards the joys and sorrows of life.
13 ‘The devotees’ in other manuscripts.
 107

10. “Tell me your secret, Raid s” the Lord said.

“How do you keep your dharma?
My eyes see no signs of wealth here,
how do you keep your body and soul satisfied?”
11. Raid s explainedŚ
“My wealth is the Lord,
at His feet a thousand Lakshmī-s bow down.
Taking shelter with Him, I know no sorrow or want.”
12. Raid s spoke in such a way,
that it filled the Lord’s heart with joy.

The p ras stone

“Listen to me, Raid s,” he said,
“your poverty will vanish at once.
13. I have been an ascetic from childhood,
having obtained knowledge, I abandoned m y
and my wanderings have brought me to your home.
I found this philosophers’ stone lying on the road yesterday.
14. It is of no use to me,
I want to give it to you, for I feel so much compassion.
Look, if iron touches this stone,
it will become gold and no one can destroy it.
15. You can produce as much gold as you want,
and distribute it as you like.
It will in no way harm you,
in fact it will increase your bhakti twofold.”
16. Hearing the Lord speak thus,
Raid s remained silent. [He thought:]
“Has the Lord appeared to shake my faith
or to destroy my devotion?”.

— Three —

1. Raid s did not speak for a while.

Hari untied the p ras stone from a knot in his dhot
and said, “Just so that you don’t think I have cheated you,
let me prove it for you.
2. Here, see the test of the p ras.
It has turned this needle into gold,
It will always work like this,
there is no mystery in it.”
3. Raid s repliedŚ
“May my eyes never see such a sight.
 108

Gold and women are a disgrace for an ascetic,

their very touch causes offence.
4. If gold could bring everything,
why would a king renounce his kingdom 14?
If a person begs for food and can live on that,
he fears women and gold.
5. If you fear and yet keep going for food and clothing,
you will go on suffering in your body.
How can one go on collecting these things?
If one gives up truth, how long can one live?”
You look like a real ascetic,
who has given up m y since childhood.
How should I touch this m y ?
Your suggestions are really bizarre!”
6. Then Hari spoke with great sincerity:
“Gold itself is not to be blamed!
Golden is the temple in the heavenly Vaikuntha
and gold adorns the neck of God.
7. The city of Dvaraka is resplendent with gold 15
and gold shines on every deity.
Gold is no obstacle to the service of gods.
The Lord himself gave gold to Sud m .
8. R m happily accepts gold offered to him,
with gold coins one can sponsor a festival.
With the help of gold you can go to Vaikuntha,
if you know the proper use of it.
9. If by spending gold, one commits sin,
gold is not to be blamed for it.
If you give gold to a whore,
you send yourself down to hell.
10. If you use gold to gamble,
you risk a life in hell.
He who takes gold to buy liquor,
drinks the liquor and goes straight to hell.
11. He who spends gold to buy meat,
transports himself quite easily to hell.
He who spends gold to have another man killed,
will never find liberation from the cycle of life and death.
12. He who gives gold to enjoy another man’s wife,
arms will strike him down, no one can save him.

14 This may be a reference to king Pīp in another parcaī by Anantad s.

15 This may be another reference to king Pīp .
 109

He who accepts gold as a bribe,

shows respect for a sinner.
If seeing the glitter of gold you commit a sin,
you will for ever remain in suffering.
13. If you leave gold hidden in the earth,
without giving it to others or enjoying it yourself,
If all your life you do not spend your gold,
you will become a snake that will coil itself around it.
If you cannot spend it even on good works,
then that’s not the gold’s fault.
how can gold become a means of salvation?
In full knowledge you lose the opportunity of this birth.”
14. When the Lord had finished speaking in this way,
Raid s replied immediately:
“Why do you want to give gold to me?
Why do you not use it yourself to sponsor a festival?”
15. (Hari repliedŚ) “I have great love for you, Raid s,
do not allow your mind to be distracted.”
He took the p ras and placed it at Raid s’s feet,
but Raid s moved away.
16. Even if you refuse you cannot escape,
for the Lord has affection for you.
The protection of Hari is an ocean of happiness -
thus sings Anantad s.

— Four —

1. When the p ras was put at his feet,

Raid s stepped back.
After a moment’s thought, the visitor told him:
“I will respect your sense of honour.
2. Since you are absolutely determined, I will wrap the stone
in this piece of cloth and hide it under the thatch of your roof.
One day it mayhelp a naked or hungry person, -
retrieve it then from the thatch without hesitation.”
3. Then the Lord tied the p ras
to a pole inside the hut, and thought:
‘Because I’m watching now he feels shy,
but soon he will spend the gold to eat’.
4. With this thought the Lord departed.
A year passed and all the time the p ras remained in place.
Not once did Raid s even look at it.
On the thirteenth month Hari returned.
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5. “Why didn’t you take it out?,” asked the Lord.

“Why do you still find fault with the p ras?”
With folded hands Raid s answeredŚ
“I have forsaken the illusion of the stone.
6. My p ras stone is Hari’s name.
I have no use for a stone.
Dear Hari, the p ras may bring a pile of gold
but it also brings the snare of m y with it.”
7. Seeing that Raid s would not accept it,
Hari took the p ras away.
As Mur rī walked out with it,
a new thought occurred to Him.
8. He appeared in a dream to make a request:
“I have kept five gold coins in a casket.
Take the gold without bad feeling.
With devotion, use it to sponsor worship among the devotees.”
9. When he heard this, Raid s was very happy and
he decided to accept the words spoken by Mur rī.
At dawn he went to see (and wondered):
‘When did I ask for all this wealth?’
10. Every day he received five gold coins,
which he then spent to organize a festival.
The temple was decorated like a palace
and there were crowds of devotees.
11. There was excellent preaching and singing,
and all conversations focused on bhakti.
People came from everywhere to watch,
and that made the Brahmins very angry.

Raid s and the Brahmins

12. “From where is this low caste man getting that money?
This stupid villager does not even know how to spend it!
He is making a fool out of people -
when has a Shudra ever done pūj himself?
13. With no one here to teach him a lesson,
much has now gone wrong in this town.
A man from a mean family and home,
how can he be allowed to worship the ś ligr m?
14. Mean himself, he has a mean job,
he is from a mean family and from a mean house.
The Vedas and Puranas have explicitly proclaimed,
o brothers, that a Shudra shall not touch the sacred stone.”
15. After the Brahmins had thus vent their ire,
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they went to stop Raid sŚ

“You should remain happy just remembering Hari’s name,
but never must you worship the ś ligr m.
16. If you want to live in this town,
you must not deceive anyone.”
The king tried to stop the Brahmins,
but they did not obey him.
Raid s told themŚ “Listen, friends,
it is not important what I am or what you are.
High or low is just your invention,
only love and devotion please the lord”.
17. The Brahmins ignored the king’s decree
and were only concerned with themselves.
They refused to accept the king’s order,
and threatened to kill themselves in the court.

— Five —

Then the king called Raid s,

who went to see him along with his companions.
The king saidŚ “Listen, Raid sś
the Brahmins are disturbed and make a lot of noise.” (Ms. 26)
1. The Dubey-s, Tivari-s and Chaubey-s came running,
the Vyasa-s, Acharya-s and Pathak-s too came.
Young and old, all gathered there,
leaving Raid s alone to argue.
2. They sat with the Baghel king,
on the place where royal decrees were issued.
The whole town gathered to witness the spectacle,
as there was no charge for this entertainment.
The Brahmins gathered in large numbers,
while Raid s was all alone.
3. Five landlords came and tried to protect him,
but the Brahmins ignored them and roared in anger.
Then Raid s came forward,
and the king and the people were pleased to see him.
4. He placed a rug on the ground to sit down,
like the moon that glows
in the midst of stars and looks so attractive -
nothing is as great as the glory of devotion (bhajan).
5. Raid s spoke soft, calm wordsŚ
“For what fault do you bother me?”
The Brahmins saidŚ “Listen, Shudra,
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why do you disgrace our religion?

6. We are the teachers to be revered by all,
but now people listen to what you say.
We organize donations and worship.”
Raid s repliedŚ “Listen to me, Brahmins.
You deceive the king and the people;
you leave the right path and take them on the wrong path.
Your teachings bring confusion,
without the name of R m nobody can be saved.
Look in all the sacred scriptures, and see
if there is salvation without the Name!
Would a king ever give up his kingdom?”
Then the Brahmins replied to Raid sŚ (Ms. 26)
“If you do not listen to our instructions,
you will load a heavy burden of sin on your shoulders.
7. When you lay hands on the ś ligr m,
rī Jagann th, the Lord of the universe, trembles.
When you bathe the image in holy water,
it is as if you pour vile liquor over it.
8. When you offer tuls , chandan and flowers,
there is no sin equal to that.
If you serve him breakfast (b l bhog), it is like shedding tears on him.
A r jbhog organized by you is like offering meat.
9. If you offer incense, a lamp or a light,
no one will believe that any good will come of it.
Respect the rules laid down in the ruti and Smriti -
for righteous people there is neither victory nor defeat.”
(Raid s repliedŚ)
1. “I do not care for victory or defeat,
I only speak about the Supreme God (pūran brahman).
2. Hari does not care for high or low,
He is pleased only with true service.
3. Whatever my guru told me to do,
that way of worship (dharma) I respect.
4. I will not give up the worship of the ś ligr m;
even death I shall accept for true service. (Ms. 26)
10. What will you do with such a dharma,
that will surely cast you into the pit of hell?
Your dharma simply tells you that
food should be given to everyone.
11. Remember Hari in your heart, do not delay;
even if it hurts, control your five senses.
Do not speak ill of others.
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happily, happily sing Hari’s praise.“ (The Brahmins replied:)

12. “Listen to what we are saying,
if you know what is good for you.
In a low caste you were born,
you have no right to perform rituals.” (Ms. 26)
Raid s replied:
“Brothers, true devotion is far from you.
You are caught up in the discussion about high and low,
and the path of Hari is far from you. (Ms. 26)
13. The Bhil woman 16 offered half-eaten fruit,
knowing that she had love for Hari in her heart.
Therefore, I am not afraid of your threat of sin
and I sing of N r yan with great love.”
14. The Brahmins saidŚ “Listen, Raid s.
Have no illusion about liberation.
In the tret yug, a Shudra performed ascetic penances, and for this
transgression a Brahmin had to die 17.
15. But then the Lord shot an arrow,
that revived the Brahmin and killed the Shudra.
Since the earliest times Brahmins have been respected,
and even more so in this Kaliyug.” (Ms. 26)
“I do not desire to perform asceticism or go on pilgrimage,
my refuge is R m alone,” Raid s replied.
“Nobody will touch an untouchable,
How can he become like a Dahm Brahmin?”
(Ms. 26)
16. “I make no distinction between high and low,
for Hari himself eats the food left by cowherds.
Even when Brahm came to eat food that had been left behind,
he did not get any because Krishna deceived him.
17. Through the mercy of the saints
and the grace of God I can talk like this”.
As is clearly said in the Veda and the Bh gavata,
so has Anantad s given his story.
18. Devotion is pleasing to R m -
No one knows the reason why.
He who knows, finds liberation,
and then caste has no importance anymore.

— Six —

16 Shabari in the R m yan.

17 Shambhu in the R m yan.
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1. The Brahmins said, full of confidence,

“Ke ava will uphold our righteousness.
The seer Bhrigu struck the Lord with his foot, and
Hari’s body became even more glorious.
2. Parashur m killed all the Kshatriya-s,
and gave us the right to rule on twenty-one occasions.
Nor did we disappear from the hearts of the P ndava-s,
who offered food for eighty-six thousand of us.”
3. Raid s saidŚ “Listen, Panda-s.
Kicking the Lord does not make one become great.
You do not know anything about ruling and
therefore things kept turning against you.
1. With eighty-six thousand food offerings the sacrifice was not complete,
as Krishna’s conch was blown only because of a true Shudra 18.
There is only one result for those who honour you:
their service takes them straight to hell.
2. You sent king Nriga to hell by pronouncing a curse on him,
but Krishna freed him 19.
Truly, Durv sas was your teacher, but
Hari is the refuge and rescuer of his devotees 20.”
6. When they heard this the Brahmins were furious,
as if ghee had been poured on a blazing fire.
“How can a cow and a sow be the same?
Everyone checks on her milk before drinking.
7. A fish from the Ganges does not lose its stench,
can you produce a calf by bathing a dog?
How can a swan and a crow become equal,
and aren’t glass and gold distinguished carefully?
8. There is a difference between camphor and oilcake 21,
everyone knows this for sure 22.
Even if a Shudra masters his senses,
nobody will worship his feet!

18 This refers to the account in the Mah bh rat where Yudhisthir could perform a
sacrifice successfully only when Krishna’s conch would be blown by itself,
indicating that all important people had been fed.
19 In the Bh gvat, book 10, Nriga is mentioned as a generous donor to Brahmans. One
day, by mistake, he donated the cow of another Brahman and for that sin he was
sent to live in a well as a lizard, but Krishna liberated him.
20 This refers to the episode in the Mah bh rat, in which Durv sas was ‘used’ to
destroy the P ndava-s, whom Krishna protected.
21 The cake that is left after pressing mustard-oil is only good to feed the cattle.
22 Lit.: ‘the Vedas and the entire world know this’.
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9. Even if a Brahmin is very corrupt,

the king and the queen will honour him.”
When he heard this, Raid s too got angry and said:
“Hari can even abandon kings and queens.
10. He abandoned Duryodhan,
and preferred to eat the simple food of the house of Vidur.
R m is not your private property 23,
anyone giving all can have Him.

Raid s and the ś ligr m

11. Bring a ś ligr m 24 and put it here.
Whoever can summon it will be the true devotee.
It will go to the person it truly loves.”
This was the strategy Raid s used.
12. The Brahmins agreedŚ “Bring it here,
if this is what you really want!”
Raid s was overwhelmed with shyness,
as it was brought on its throne. (He prayed:)
13. “If you are truly the Lord of the triple world,
then come and sit in the lap of your devotee.”
The Brahmins saidŚ “Come here, my Lord,
we are yours, supreme Brahman.”
14. They recited the Vedas with steady voices,
but Ke ava didn’t pay any attention to them.
They repeated the G yatrī mantra with concentrated mind,
and invoked all the other gods (dharma).
15. Raid s kept repeating only one verse,
as the whole day passed without offering any food.
A full three and half pahar-s had gone by,
but no one had won or lost.
16. Raid s kept offering the verse as food,
all excited with love and tears filling his eyes.
When Hari saw this act of compassion,
the ś ligr m leapt up into Raid s’s lap.
17. The devotee Raid s kept holding it to his chest,
while the king and the people were greatly pleased.
Everyone shouted ‘well done’, and
the defeated Brahmins went away, hiding their faces.
18. They did not show their faces, hiding,
as if for six months they had been suffering from fever.

23 Lit.: ‘R m did not come to your side’.

24 In the Bhaktam l, it is the king who is said to organize the contest.
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Although Raid s had won, he did not become proud,

seeing the Brahmins melting away like water from sweets.
19. In every age the Lord pats his devotees on the back.
the glory of devotion is described as endless.
Hari himself sings the praise of the greatness of devotees,
who can be equal to them?
20. Ananta, the devotee, worships the Lord,
ignoring all ideas of caste.
Hari takes no account of high or low,
real devotion gives influence over Him.

— Seven —

Raid s and queen Jh l

1. An interval of five years passed
and now I come to the stories of Chittor.
Queen Jh lī was a very intelligent woman,
a perfect example of charity, religious duty and good company.
2. All enjoyments were available to her
but she had no m l , mantra or guru.
One day the desire came to her mind,
that she would be happy to find initiation.
3. She called a devotee and asked him,
from whom she should receive initiation.
The devotee told her:
“In my mind I have searched everywhere
4. There are so many devotees, what can I say?
Let me tell you about one, your majesty.
Go quickly to the city of Kashi,
if you have any trust in my words.
5. There is a jul h named Kabīr,
whom you can consider as Shukdev embodied.
He truly recognizes the nirguṇ Brahman,
you should ask him for initiation, Majesty.
6. There is also Raid s the cham r,
who is like an incarnation of N rad.
I feel shy but I should call him a Shūdra,
but even kings are eager to come and see him.
7. Brahmins do not understand this mystery,
but both Kabīr and Raid s are avat r-s of Vishnu.”
When she heard this, the queen was very pleased,
 117

and arrangements were made for her journey 25 to Banaras.

8. Brahmins wanted to go with her, in the conviction
that the queen would receive initiation from them.
Jh lī tried to stop them, but they insisted on going,
for the initiation and for a bath in the Ganges.
9. They came to Kashi after twenty days
and the queen secretly sent two messengers:
“Go and tell the respected Kabīr,
that Jh lī wants to receive initiation from him.”
10. But Kabīr was very hesitantŚ
“I don’t have any business with kings or queens.”
He was dressed in a torn blanket
when the queen arrived to see him.
11. She saw all the dispassionate nirguṇ devotees,
who were seated devoid of all attachment.
She saw the hut made from grass
and covered with torn patched robes.
12. There was no worship, no offering, no gods or goddesses,
contemplation of God was their service.
This service the Lord knows
and some rare ascetics understand it.
There was no plate, pitcher, money or cloth,
and not even water for a second day.
But this nirguṇ devotion concentrating only on the Name
could not appeal to the queen.
13. When the queen saw the austere lifestyle,
she felt a hesitation in her heart.,
and she went to the home of Raid s, the cham r,
to see how he did things there.
14. She went there quickly,
and saw an enclosure with a high gate.
When she saw the temple she was very happy,
because Gobinda was always seated there.
15. More than sixty canopies were spread out, and
the queen had never before seen such happiness.
There were golden pots and silken cloths
and plenty of small pots filled with perfume.
16. Cymbals were ringing and drums beating,
and there were all sorts of flower garlands.
There she saw the master, Raid s,
sitting surrounded by many heads of monasteries.

25 Verse 7.7.: ḍer den , lit., ‘to arrange for the camping...’.
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17. He was wearing fine clothes and had a radiant body,

while from his lips came sweet speech.
At that moment all pride left the queen,
and she prostrated herself in front of the devotees.
18. She grasped the feet of Raid s,
and he placed his hands on her forehead.
The queen was very happy,
participating in the fellowship of the devotees.

— Eight —

1. None of the Brahmins knew this secret,

the queen did not reveal that she had received this initiation.
Jh lī donated much money
to cover the expenses and returned home.
“Take this money
and spend it in beautiful celebrations.”
Then Raid s sponsored some more festivals
and fed all the devotees.
2. When they had gone five kos out of the city,
her Brahmins started to grumble.
The priests had heard that she had accepted a m l ,
and they turned black in anger.
“You have accepted initiation from a low caste man,
you did not bother about caste and tradition,
accepting the mantra and the garland.”
The Brahmins became like the god of death.
3. Their anger flamed up like fire,
they picked up stones and gashed their heads.
But the queen grasped the reins, she turned back
and arrived in Banaras.
4. The angry Brahmins cursed her, saying:
“Your jap will be fruitless.”
Some of them threw down their almanacs in anger,
others threw off their sacred threads.
5. Some burnt themselves with a piece of iron,
while Ke ava Pande cut his wrist.
Some sat in the burning sun,
while others threw themselves on the ground.
6. Some of them bit their tongues,
some of them tore their clothes to pieces.
Some of them swallowed lumps of poison,
some of them ran off to the court.
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7. Some of them sliced open their bellies with daggers,

some of them threatened they would kill themselves in the king’s house.
Some gave their blood as offering
and some refused to drink water.
8. They arrived at the cham r’s house to kill themselves.
At this tumult the Baghel king came out running,
While the queen arrived, hiding in a shawl and
regretting what she had done.
9. “Only the Lord can protect me in this crisis,”
Jh lī said, again and again.
If one does good which turns out badly,
the doer has no power over this.
10. The whole city of Kashi turned up,
and people were relating what had happened before.
How the ś ligr m came into the lap of Raid s,
and how both the king and the people saw this miracle. (Ms. 26)
Saying “killing and beating’ won’t complete your work”,
the king tried to stop the quarrel.
The great Raid s is a saintś
it is a great sin to hurt him.
If you want to enjoy greater respect,
then you must immerse your body in love.”
(Ms. 26)
11. A close devotee of Hari, the barber Sen
came from the B dhau fort.
The Brahmins did not accept his intervention,
but he insisted and was ready to die.
With great efforts he made them understand,
but they refused to listen to him.
All the saints and ascetics confirm this
and even the great Kabīr has spoken like this.
But the furious Brahmins went on hurting themselves,
and no religious argument could convince them.
Then Raid s had an idea
and he told the saints what to do.
If people do not listen to true words,
they can never find success in life. (Ms. 26)
12. He dispatched one of his devotees,
to go and ask Kabīr for advice.
“The Brahmins have come to kill themselves -
give me advice, what should I do!”
13. Kabīr saidŚ “They will not listen to what you say,
as they have been eating from the hands of kings.
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Even if Brahm were to teach them they would not listen.

You and me are beneath their notice.”
Very humbly the devotees replied:
“You are like Brahm for us.
All good advice always comes from you,
for those who carefully listen to you.”
Then Kabīr spoke in this way,
removing all their doubts:
“Do not be afraid, Hari will take care of everything,
the Brahmins will get tired and give up.”
(Ms. 26)
14. Leave it to the ś ligr m to decide,
if you want to be freed from this problem.
From age to age the devotees can testify:
‘Do not be afraid! Take Hari as your protector’.
15. Kabīr gave them this instruction
and Raid s gratefully accepted.
The Brahmins remained intent upon killing themselves
and did not listen to anything about knowledge and meditation.
16. Raid s instructed themŚ
“Listen, whatever the Lord says you must do,”
and the ś ligr m was brought.
Everyone was pleased with this.
17. Suddenly the quarrels disappeared,
and the devotees resumed their meditation.
They accepted as true,
what God himself had said.

— Nine —

1. After causing that first incident,

the Brahmins came to do the same thing again.
Reciting the Vedas, sacred formulas and the G yatrī,
they created a loud noise for a long time.
2. The devotees Raid s and Sen kept
singing of Hari’s qualities, shedding tears.
In their chariots the gods descended,
accompanied by their attendant deities and celestial beings.
3. The ś ligr m spoke after deep reflection
while all men and women listened:
“Raid s is my genuine devotee,
false are the Brahmins who pester him.”
4. Hari spoke thus three times,
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and everyone’s worry disappeared.

‘Long live Raid s’ was shouted all over and
all the spectators went to their homes.
5. In every age victory goes to the devotees.
With a shower of flowers the celestials returned to heaven.
The Brahmins too left as if defeated in gambling,
knowing their high status had been insulted.
6. They went away abashed, twice defeated,
as if they had begged for a favour for their sister or mother.
At the auspicious dev-uṭṭh n festival 26
the queen received initiation.
7. The conflict had taken place on a full moon day
and after that Jh lī went back to her own country.
She tried to concentrate fully on the Lord
and set her mind on serving the devotees. (Ms. 26)

Raid s and Kab r

In the evening Sen and Raid s
went to see Kabīr.
Kabīr, Sen and Raid s met
and they were in great ecstasy, as with endless sunlight. (Ms. 26)
8. Kabīr paid them homage and gave them a seat, saying:
“I have heard the news about you.”
They sincerely praised one another,
and all the other devotees touched their feet.
9. Hari is true, true are Hari’s devotees,
meditation on Hari destroys all distress.
After that they sang religious songs
and in ecstasy they feared nothing.
10. They stayed awake in meditation for half the night,
and after that the ascetics went to sleep.
But the three devotees remained sitting there,
And Vishnu appeared to them in His four-armed form.
11. Raid s got up and fell at Hari’s feet,
while Sen saidŚ “Here I am, in your protection.”
Kabīr had the vision while seated,
and the four-armed Lord entered his heart.
12. Kabīr’s mind was set on the nirguṇa God,
The opinion of others appeared useless to him.
“I know that birth and death are God’s arrangement,
and I do not pay attention to them.” (Ms. 26)
26 The eleventh day of the bright half in November is very auspicious; then the gods
are roused from their slumber (and marriages begin to be organized).
 122

Raid s started the discussion:

“We should realize that nirguṇa and saguṇa are the same.
We must think of saguṇa as of butter
and of nirguṇa as of heated ghee. (Ms. 26)
13. Sen and Raid s confirmed their faith in the saguṇa form,
while Kabīr believed in the nirguṇa Brahman.
They debated the matter for several hours
and Kabīr’s concentration was focused on the centre of his forehead 27.
Kabīr radiated his experience of the nirguṇa Brahman,
who entered into the heart of Raid s and Sen.
(Ms. 26)
14. The experience of the nirguṇa made their minds firm
and they confirmed their faith in Kabīr as their guru.
Sen and Raid s paid homage to Kabīr,
and returned to their homes.
The nirguṇa holds the whole creation,
saguṇa devotion is only part of the nirguṇa:
if one understands this, all doubts disappear.
Anantad s speaks through the grace of Hari:
"Devotion and grace are my protection.
In a dream I was instructed
to tell the stories of the devotees.
Three times a voice came to me
and so I understood the lives of the devotees.
There is not one letter wrong
and I am telling all that happened afterwards.
Even if I have endless speech,
the stories of the saints can never be told.
Even if every day I go on singing,
I shall never reach the end of the Supreme Brahman. (Ms. 26)
15. This is special about nirguṇa and saguṇa:
one should not have dogmatic views about them.
The nirguṇa does not waver or change,
while the saguṇa Hari protects his devotees.
16. It is as if saguṇa has the form of butter,
and nirguṇa is the heated ghee.

— Ten —

1. From that day Raid s began meditation on the nirguṇa,

and the bonds of the kohl of illusion disappeared.
He applied the kohl of kath and k rtan
27 Lit. ‘on the ṭ k ’ (in the centre of his forehead?).
 123

and the Indweller awoke in him.

2. In the way Shankara and eṣa taught,
so did Kabīr give his instruction.
When the mind climbs on the upward path,
one does not bother to look down anymore
3. After that he meditated in that manner.
In those days also a strong feeling came to Jh lī’s heart:
“If my gurudev would come to my house,
I could serve him in a proper way.”
4. If your guru never comes to your house,
your human birth remains useless.

Raid s and queen Jh l

Jh lī consulted the devotees.
She said what she thought and asked for their opinion.
5. The devotees said it was a very good idea:
“If you instruct us, we shall invite him.”
Jh lī saidŚ “Speak to him with great humility.
Let him remember how close I am and let him come here.
6. A gardener waters plants and flowers,
and remains attached to what he has planted.
The clouds quench the thirst of numberless plants and flowers,
but the mother-of-pearl is thirsty only for the raindrops of Sv ti.
7. As a mother nourishes her infant,
so the sadguru satisfies souls.”
She wrote her request in a letter
and gave instructions to the devotees.
8. The devotees departed without delay and
soon they arrived in the city of Kashī.
With great respect they greeted Raid s,
While looking at the gathering of saints around him.
9. They delivered the letter.
Raid s had it read out for him and accepted the invitation.
The devotees heard what was in the letter
and understood that the queen was very eager to see him.
10. The matter of the journey was discussed
and this news was brought to all the saints.
They saidŚ “This is the way in which
the Lord himself gives an order”.
11. Considering the matter Raid s thought that
his big brother, Kabīr was like a guru.
Early in the morning he went to ask his advice.
Kabīr honoured him and asked him to sit down.
 124

12. Raid s told Kabīr about

the letter that was sent from Chittor.
“As you order me I will do:
Shall I go or just send a letter?”
13. When Kabīr gave his opinion,
Raid s agreed with him fully.
“It is Ke ava’s order that you should go,
but remember to preserve your saintly attitude.”
14. When Raid s stood up and asked permission to depart,
Kabīr told him to start on the journey.
With Kabīr’s permission to go, Hari also gave permission.
15. In this way the devotee Raid s decided to go to Chittor.

— Eleven —

1. In the morning they started to walk,

the whole company concentrating on Hari.
Well behaved and absorbed in meditation,
many joined and followed the group.
2. With nirguṇa knowledge and concentration firm in their heart,
they meditated on the unproduced sound.
One should always take pleasure in the company of such people -
not only men, but also gods are attracted.
3. Wherever Hari’s devotees travel,
seeing them everyone finds happiness.
When Hari’s devotees lovingly sing songs of devotion,
everyone’s mind is ecstatic in love.
4. If devotees cross someone’s threshold,
then his evil deeds are destroyed and he finds liberation.
Showing great enthusiasm they make their love greater;
Whom can they not please?
5. Travelling like this many days passed,
while Jh lī was impatient to see him.
When they finally arrived near Chittor,
Raid s sent two of the devotees.
6. The devotees gave the message of Raid s,
and the queen was very thrilled:
“Blessed is this day and blessed is this hour,
when you came and gave me this message.”
7. Then also Raid s came near
and at first he made his camp in a garden.
The queen summoned all of her ministers,
and sent the entire capital to see him.
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8. Both simple and important people went to see him,

but the Brahmins were very resentful.
While everyone was happy,
the Brahmins died of jealousy.

The ‘additional’ lines 1-20 are

found only in manuscripts 25 and 27.

1. The queen came with all necessary provisions and sweets:

betel, perfume and coloured powder.
The chant of ‘hari bol’ resounded,
and the garden was transformed into the heaven Vaikuntha.
2. All sorts of kath and k rtan were performed,
and pras d was distributed to all.
Later it was decided to camp within the city,
that became the talk of the town.
3. The streets were decorated with silken sheets,
on which the guru would step while walking.
In this manner arrangements were made
and queen Jh lī congratulated the people.
4. Everything falls short of their greatness
when praising the guru and Gobinda.
Even giving your life does not make you free of debt,
anything else is of little importance.
5. The queen showed great enthusiasm
and arranged for food.
The Brahmins joined in to look for an opportunity
to disturb this happiness.
6. “This Shudra has been invited to be honoured,
and now the queen neglects her family Brahmins.”
But how can anyone spoil a work
that is in the hands of R m?
7. The Brahmins came to the palace,
angry and full of frustration.
The queen saidŚ “Why are the Brahmins behaving like this,
as if someone snatched away their fields and farms?”
8. They saidŚ “You spoilt everyone,
creating division in the r jadharma.
All kings have always honoured Brahmins,
not caring for anyone else.
9. If you had to do something to earn merit,
you should first have come to us.
For a ritual, go to a Brahmin.
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all other people come after the Brahmins.

10. For matters where Brahmins are in charge,
you have now brought in an outcast as guru.”
The queen saidŚ “Look here, brothers,
This is the way I prefer to do it.
9. One is mean if one’s actions are mean,
one is excellent if one performs meritorious deeds.
Excellence and meanness are in one’s actions,
in the human body alone there is no status at all.
10. Desire, anger, greed and the nine gates,
through these all humans are cham rs.
One who conquers these becomes excellent
and there who can speak of Brahmins or of famous V lmīki-s?
11. Caste and family have no importance -
one who sings of R m is dear to R m.
You can achieve nothing, Brahmins,
get up and go home.”
12. The Brahmins had at first been frustrated,
now they became very angry and even frightened the queen.
“First give us our food,
and then we will agree with whatever you want.”
13. The queen saidŚ “I do not like this,
why should I feed you before I feed my guru?”
At this, such a sharp dispute broke out
that Raid s had to send a devotee.
14. “For me there is neither loss nor victory,
just do whatever will make them happy.”
The queen understood and followed his advice.
Grudgingly she decided to feed the Brahmins.
15. Without enthusiasm she called the Brahmins,
and all that were in the city came running.
The Brahmins came running in order to get food,
all together there were more than seven hundred of
them.
16. They were very pleased at this,
eager to cook their food all day.
Excited they prepared the cooking ground 28,
ordering big earthen pots to be brought.
17. They took their bath leisurely,
while the devotees continued to sing the praises of Hari.
When the food was ready they started to eat,
28 Cleaning an area, as for cooking or worship, by smearing it with earth and cow
dung.
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removing their turbans and leaving their heads bare.

18. Raid s kept his mind concentrated in meditation,
and in contemplation he transcended his body.

Raid s seen everywhere

As in many mirrors you see the same body,

his transcending body was seen everywhere 29.

19. He sat down to eat with everyone and

Everywhere he could be seen.
All people were struck seeing this marvel,
for there were as many Raid s-es as there were Brahmins.
20. Somebody decided to run to the place where Raid s was camping
and there he found Raid s also.
Everyone shouted, ‘he is great, he is great’,
but the Brahmins hid their faces.
21. Embarrassment overwhelmed them all,
as they knew they had harrassed a real saint.
“If he should be angry at us,” they thought,
“he will reduce us to ashes.
22. We are sinners, he is a model devotee,
and his Lord is always present.
He is a saint, we are sinners,
we started a quarrel with a saint.
Hari is true, true are Hari’s devotees” -
in this manner the Brahmins expressed their regret.
23. ‘Hail hail, the Lord is great,
and so are his servants.
Caste and family are nothing’.
Thus the Brahmins were humiliated.

— Twelve —

1. Then everyone agreed that

they should go and touch Raid s’s feet.
They left immediately, in all humility,
and asked the queen Jh lī to come with them.
2. They thoughtŚ “How can we touch his feet?
We have committed so many sins.”
From their houses to his hut they performed full prostration.

29 For the appearance in many bodies, see P p parca , p. 180.

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In this way they arrived, with fear in their heart.

3. Raid s saidŚ “You wretched ones!
You are exalted and I come from a low caste.
how is it that you are prostrating yourselves before me?
You Brahmins, you will die of shame.”
1. The Brahmins just stood there, no words came out of their mouths,
while the Giver of happiness gives happiness to all.
The king and the people had all come,
eager to criticize the Brahmins.
5. The Brahmins made this humble request:
“What can we do to become free from this?”
Raid s spoke to them,
and told them the story of his previous birth.
6. “I too was a Brahmin, but I did not know Hari,
And because of that I was born in a Shudra’s house.”
He pulled out the sacred thread that was on his body.
Seeing this everyone came to him for protection.
7. “Devotion has made me pure in this world,
without devotion the entire world is a Shudra.
Caste and family have no importance.
It is by devotion that one crosses the sea of rebirth.
8. The Vedas and Puranas all proclaim that Vishnu himself
is in the power of bhakti.
Hari himself proclaims the greatness of his devotees,
by the glory of their worship they have been placed above all.”
9. The devotee Raid s spoke in this way
and everybody agreed with him.
The Brahmins saidŚ “You are our guru,”
they took out their sacred threads and threw them away.
10. “Put your hand on our forehead, Master,
we are your servants, you are the indwelling Lord.”
Then Raid s made them his disciples.
Showing compassion, he placed his hands on their foreheads.
11. The king and the people were very delighted,
shouting ‘bravo, bravo’, they felt their love grow.
People are nothing without love for the Lord,
those who flirt with other things go to the city of Death.
12. Those who see the saints and the Lord as one,
they reach the far shore.
Anantad s has told the true story,
in which the mystery of bhakti is expressed.
13. “Many times Hari has given witness
and therefore I composed these parcai-s of the saints.
 129

There is not one letter wrong:

good people know this, while ignorant people are irritated.
14. Even if you have endless human lives
and numberless tongues
and sing every day of the new glories of Hari,
you cannot understand the ways of the Lord.
15. God is like the ocean and I am the drop,
and yet nobody is able to find Him.
Who can sing the praises of Hari, if even
gods, men, eṣn g and devotees are exhausted doing it?"
16. Anantad s has considered all this,
gaining great fortune by surrendering to His feet.
Look at the affection of
those who love others on this earth.
Sandal, betel and mal gari colour:
they forget themselves and make others beautiful.
Saints only think of others,
when they live among the people.
They enjoy and distribute the nectar of R m,
there is no selfishness in them. (Ms. 25)

Thus is completed the parca of the devotee rī Raid s.

 130

Books quoted

François Bernier, Travels in the Mogul empire, AD 1656-1668, (tr. by Irving

Brock), (1891), 3rd ed. 1972, Oxford University Press, London.

Winand M. Callewaert and Peter Friedlander, The life and works of Raid s,
Manohar, Delhi, 1992.

Winand M. Callewaert (in collaboration with Swapna Sharma and Dieter

Taillieu), The Millennium Kab r V ṇ . A Collection of Pad-s, Manohar
Publications, New Delhi, 2000, 629pp.

[Bib1] Winand M. Callewaert, The Hagiographies of Anantad s. The Bhakti

Poets of North India, Curzon, 2000, 414pp.

[Bib2] The “Earliest” Pad of Mīr (1503-1546), in: Winand M. Callewaert,

From Chant to Script, D.K. Printworld, New Delhi, 2013, pp. 104-
119.Bib1

Pierre-Daniel Couté & Jean-Michel Léger, Bénarès. Un voyage d’architecture,

an architectural voyage, ed. Creaphis, Paris, 1989.

Paul B. Courtright, Ganesh, Lord of obstacles, Lord of beginnings, Oxford

University Press, 1985.

Diana Eck, Banaras. City of light, Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1983.

John Stratton Hawley and Mark Juergensmeyer, Songs of the Saints of India,
OUP, 1988.

Christopher Justice, Dying the good death. The pilgrimage to die in India’s
holy city, Suny Press, New York, 1997.

Philip Lutgendorf, The life of a text. Performing the Ramcaritmanas of

Tulsidas, University of California Press, 1991.

J. Parry & M. Bloch, Eds, Money & the morality of exchange, Cambridge
university press, 1989.

Poth premambodha (1693, i.e. nearly two centuries after Raid s); a critical
edition of this work and a discussion of its date and origins can be found
in Bhagat Ravid s srodha pustak, GNDU Press, Amritsar, 1984.
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Tadeus Pfeifer, Im Grass gruscht freundlich der Affe, 1989, von Loeper
Verlag, Karlsruhe, 1989 (translated into English by Suzanne Leu).

A.K. Ramanujan, Speaking of Shiva, Penguin classics, (1973), 1985 (the saints
quoted are from the 10th to 12th centuries).

A.K. Ramanujan, Hymns for the Drowning, Princeton Library of Asian

translations, 1981.

Rana P.B. Singh, Where cultural symbols meet. Literary images of Varanasi,
Tara Book Agency, Varanasi, 1989.

Rana P.B. Singh, Ed., Banaras (Varanasi). Cosmic order, sacred city, Hindu
traditions, Tara Book Agency, Varanasi, 1993.

Kedar Nath Vyas, Panchakrosh tmak jyotirlinga k sh mah tmya, (Hindi),

Gyanvapi, Varanasi, 1987.