THE SACRED CENTRE OF HINDUISM.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVI, Issue 22, 2 June 1906, Page 19

THE SACRED CENTRE OF HINDUISM.

Continued from Page 5. grims straight from the railway. They were more like a crowd of be.an-feastrrs on an English bank holiday than a band of devotees seriously seeking deliverance from future reincarnations .and the.early attainment of Nirvana by an act of great piety in the present life. They were welcomed with shouts, and as they landed at the base of the great flight of steps of Kidar Ghat the women preened themselves and readjusted their silk draperies, while a holiday air pervaded the crowd. AH the primitive acts of the Hindus’ day were in progress. Many of those less richly endowed with this world’s goods were combining their ceremonial ablutions with the washing of their only outfit of clothing, and the red, which is so universally popular a shade in India, tinged the water like the blood of a living sacrifice. Under the spreading umbrellas. and on the stone platforms, groups were making their frugal morning meal of rice. Barbers were busily plying their trade, while the victims followed the progress of operations with the aid of a scrap of ill-reflecting mirror. Shaving as carried on without any attempt at lathering, while all parties squatted on their haunches, looked an unsatisfactory and painful ordeal; but what can be expected at a farthing or halfpenny?—l forget whether these outdoor lonsorial artists charge one or two pice. The main burning ghat • was busy this particular morning. Corpses • x were plentifully lying around in the most casual manner in their covering of white linen, rising and falling on the river’s margin as they uiiderwent their final bath of purification, or in process of being built into wooden pyres by natives who casually dumped the wood on the unprotesting bodies. There arc varieties in cremation, and they were to be seen here. The poor man whose relatives can only afford three rupees’ worth of wood gets barely charred, hut as the essentials are the burning of the senses it suffices, and the vultures, as the corpse floats down the stream, accomplish the rest. The rich man, however, with his ten rupees* (13/4) worth of wood, gets pretty completely incinerated, and there is little left but ashes to lie dissipated by the broad river. The worst unfortunate is the pauper, for whose funeral the State provides three rupees, a considerable percentage of which remains as gusturi. or commission, in the hands through which it passes before the woodseller provides the necessary furl. Strolling along the ghats one gets a bet-

ter view aldo of the queer contortions into whieli Scindia ghat was thrown by the subsidence of the huge building that the Maharaja; Scindia started in 1821» with quite inadequate foundations. It promised to be the most lieautiful structure on the river, but all that remains is the massive stone piers which in-their subsidence have thrown at all angles the buildings on the steps immediately below in a manner that brings into disrepute the work of the most conscientious of cameras, as no one will, looking at snapshots of the place, believe but (hat the kodak that took them was on a disgraceful spree at the time. Close by is i*anch Ganga ghat, one of the live most sacred on the river. The four streams that devout Hindus believe here join the Ganges are Dharma Nada (river of virtue), Dhutapapa (cleanser of sin), Kcrnuna<li (brook of Min's rays), and the Sarawasti (spouse of Brahma). Here even the gods are supposed to find merit in bathing in the brown waters. But the most interesting spot of the three miles of river front is perhaps Manikaranika ghat. On the piers extending from the base of its stairs sit devotees who for hours daily go through the repetition of prayers and charms, interspersed with posturings and bathings. At its head is the sacred kund, or tank, in which the liar, the thief, the murderer, the adul ferer may wash and be cleansed from all sin, although the intrusion of the purest Christian would utterly defile its sanctity. It is the heart of Hinduism. Here all classes mingle, and every shade of pilgrim comes, and the familiar whine inevitably” strikes the ear, “Baksheesh give here, sir: one rupee eight annas four annas. I am priest: I make prayer for you.’’ It is the very centre of Brahmin chicanery, where the poor pilgrim is lobbed by one who. under an ostensible sacred office, is a combination of beggar, bully and tout, the lines of greed deep marked on his fat features. I cannot hope to convey the vivid impression of the combination! of serious and devout attention to the round of prescriiied acts of purification side by side with tnc hollow mockery of the many who take the pilgrimage as a glorious holiday and the avaricious and skilled effort of the Brahmin to turn both alike to his pecuniary advantage, that a stroll along these remarkable stairs, with their back ing of great buildings, must leave on even the most superficially observant and casual tourist. Benares is filthy, the centre of a religion whose ideals are low and practices revolting, but its past history is remarkable, its present is unique, and its future an enigma of unrivalle’ interest.