The Evening Prayers at the Ghats
The evening prayers at the ghats are magnificent, but only for a few visits.
The evening prayers at the ghats are magnificent, but only for a few visits.
At the Kartik Purnima
It was Kartik Purnima when I was last in Benares (well, I made one more trip after this one). My friends and I planned our dates to coincide with the festival because people had told us the evening prayer ceremony was magnificent and colorful.
I’ve been struggling with the temptation to write a lengthy treatise about Kartik Purnima, but I will resist and focus only on the evening prayers and my thoughts on the subject.
Those interested in learning more can click this link or the link in the button at the end of this post. Most available links direct you to sites that provide information about the date (in 2025) and the requirements for devotees or pilgrims to receive the full blessings of the various gods.
We use the lunar calendar.
The festival is sacred to Shaivites, Vaishnavites, Jains, and Sikhs. I didn’t know then, but the Sikhs celebrate ‘Gur Purab’ on Kartik Purnima, the birthday of Guru Gobind Singh, the first of the Sikh Gurus. We use the “Hindu” calendar, which is based on lunar cycles, which is why the “date” changes every year.
When I was in China, my Sales Manager told me his father’s birthday date had shifted every year because he used the lunar Chinese calendar.
Please note that the dates, as per our calendars, do not change; they are based on the Western (now international) calendar. Our calendars are much better at predicting seasons. Only a stupid farmer will use the global calendar for planning dates of sowing, etc. Most managers who work in multinationals or large local corporations ignore the lunar calendars, which is why their recommendations to the agricultural community are ludicrous. A human stuffed into a suit and garroted with a tie is often not a sensible person.
A digression into our train journey and on eggs.
We planned our visit to Benares to ensure our ‘participation’ in the Kartik Purnima celebration. I recall traveling on the train with the guards of Ms. Uma Bharti, a ‘godwoman’ and a member of parliament from the BJP. She was visiting Varanasi to organize an activity related to cleaning the Ganges. I scoffed: river systems are complex, and you cannot attempt to clean one tiny section of the river or its network.
A more straightforward approach is not to pollute the waters.
Breakfast arrived midway through our discussions. I opted for the egg. Most of my friends detest the omelets the railways serve, but I love them. There was a time when I oscillated between the vegetable cutlets and the omelets, spiced with their pumpkin-flavored tomato ketchup. Still, over the years, I became a loyal member of the omelet fan club. Only when the server walked around, asking if someone wished for a second breakfast, would I then opt for a cutlet, with the sneaking regret I was ending my feast with something vegetarian and not an egg. Vegetarians who claim their plates do not contain any traces of cruelty may suck an egg. Many claim to be benevolent and eat only vegetables, but victimize those who practice different faiths or belong to other castes. Hypocrisy rules the world.
A discussion on seats and territorial expansion.
We arrived at the ghats in the evening to discover a massive crowd had gathered to greet us. They did not intend to wish us well, but only to ensure they got the best seats on the steps. It appeared the population of the country had descended on Benares that evening, and I despaired of getting a vantage viewpoint. When I inspected the restless crowds, I realized no one would steal my seat if I vacated it for even something as innocent as a pee break. All is fair in love, war, and grabbing seats.
Singaporeans are civilized people.
I remember going to food courts in Singapore to eat lunch and arriving at noon to find all the seats gone. Often, a pack of tissues served as a warning to potential trespassers. These tissues would be worthless in India, where a seat thief would drop them to the floor, invade the original person’s seat, and refuse to budge, claiming they have the God-given right to defend their acquisition.
Singaporeans are civilized people, and the pack of tissues serves as a sign of possession, and no one tries to take advantage of the original owner’s temporary absence.
One of my companions thought he could bully his way through the crowds and grab three seats, but the resistance was too much for him. Meanwhile, I chatted with a police officer who was overjoyed to discover I had traveled to his hometown.
A digression: nationalism and hometowns.
I must digress for a moment. Nationalism has been growing for over a century and a half, and it appears to be an irresistible force these days. In the old days, when people returned to their hometowns or villages, they’d say they were going to ‘their country.’ The word ‘desh,’ meaning ‘country,’ was common currency, proving the assertions of recent research that states that, in the past, people identified with their villages more than with overarching concepts of religion.
The police officer and I became friendly, and he led us to seats just behind the VIP row. I have no shame in admitting that we occupied the seats he gave us after he had moved the original occupants to other seats. We settled in, and I looked around, feeling smug knowing that I could take a toilet break, safe knowing that my seat was secure. We are all guilty of abandoning our morals when we deem it appropriate. I justified my illegal occupation by convincing myself we did it in the service of travel photography.
Arrive early. Always.
When you attend such fairs, concerts, or events, ensure you arrive early. This way, you, the photographer, can choose the best spots and familiarize yourself with the scene, but arriving early also gives you the opportunity to photograph the crowds as they wait for the show to start, as well as the performers (for example, the Kartik Purnima Arti artistes) before they begin their performance.
The rich and influential observed the ceremony from their boats moored on the waters of the Ganges. No doubt their seats on the boats afford them a different perspective, but these people miss the chaos of the crowds. The chaos of the crowds, their emotions, cheering, sighs, and involvement always add to the drama of the show.
Which way should the performers face?
The artists faced the river throughout the entire evening, which meant they had their backs to the crowd. A shame. The organizers have a choice: do they chant their hymns to the river (in which case their backs will be to the crowd) or to the crowd (in which case their backs will be to the river deity)?
We were lucky to have prime seats, which afforded me the luxury of witnessing and photographing the performers from the side. Later, when I was tired of sitting, I crawled to the front the next day, standing with my back to the river, to take photos of the show.
The evening arti is a magnificent spectacle, and no one should miss the daily performance. I don’t know what happens during the monsoon rains, but I will find out.
I confess I ignored the hymns or the shlokas: the Sanskrit eludes me, and I have no interest in religion. The spectacle fascinated me with its lamps, dancing women, smoke, music, and the overall rhythm and emotion of the show. I don’t know if the performers stay invested or if they go through the motions with practiced ease since they perform the arti.
Religion is big business, but the spectacle is magnificent.
Many believe that commercializing religion started under the current BJP regime’s period in power, but I am convinced that the previous government began this trend. The Akhilesh Yadav government elevated the Kumbh Mela’s profile in Allahabad, and the same government took similar actions for Kartik Purnima and the evening aarti in Benares.
Religion is big business, and no one should pretend otherwise. I do not recall attending any such lavish ceremony during my previous trips to Benares. We’d sit on the steps of the ghats and watch the river as it flowed to the sea.
I attended the evening arti inside the Kashi Vishwanath temple one evening, one of the most hypnotic ceremonies I have ever witnessed. The priests decorated the Shiva lingam over the almost hour-long ceremony. I do not remember any shlokas being chanted, but I remember the drumbeats and the wordless chants. My eyes shut, and I allowed myself to drift into an unworldly, blissful space. A priest who lunged at me, grabbing my collar and demanding money as soon as the prayer ceremony ended, shattered my blissful state and pushed me closer to the edge of my atheist transformation.
Religion is big business, but when you have the privilege of attending a magnificent spectacle like the Ganga Arti at Benares, don’t miss the chance to do so.
I am reading a fascinating but dense book, ‘On Hinduism,’ by Wendy Doniger. The book has an intriguing chapter on Shiva’s lingam: is it an asexual symbol of reproduction or a sexual symbol of reproductive and creative energy? The lingam horrified the prudish Brits, and their attitudes affected our perception of the lingam. Read the book.
I have not edited the images, except for putting them through Topaz Photo AI. I used the face recovery model for a few images, and the super focus model for the last image. Topaz Photo AI is a magnificent tool, which you can explore by clicking this link.
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