![]() Electric or gas-fired crematoriums have been built but both depend on unreliable energy sources and so most still prefer traditional methods. In turn 50 to 60 million trees are consumed annually in India alone. Burning one large body can require up to 1,100 pounds of logs. The demand for wood, particularly hard wood, taxes Himalayan forests. Like most things in India, though, there is a parallel story. There was something beautiful about the process unfolding before me-the rawness, the simplicity, the completeness. “She had a good life with much love and she is blessed to reach moksha.”Īs I watched the family light the funeral pyre, I thought of our guide Raj’s comments. “Thank you but apology not needed,” he said. The boy proudly listed off the oils, herbs, flowers, and trinkets that they brought to help his aunt on her journey. I looked down on the lower burning deck and saw the boy’s relatives surrounding a body draped in flowers, saying goodbye and offering final prayers. He explained that his family was about to cremate his aunt. ![]() After a few minutes he asked, “Want to see my auntie?” I looked at him confused. Goats and dogs roamed freely and steam rose from the ground.Īs I photographed, a teenage boy started shadowing me. Smoke and ash were everywhere and workers meticulously collected human ash and bone fragments to dump into the river. A blood red sun was rising across the river. I kept sweating the entire boat ride back.Īt 4:30 a.m. We motored upstream, into the dark of the night, past the Hindu prayer services taking place a hundred yards upstream. Between the ring of bells still clanging in my head, I could hear the body hissing. Raj ushered us back to our boat, past a body shrouded in white cloth and immersed in leaping flames. We help those make the passage at the end. I asked our guide, Raj, who has worked his entire life on the burning ghat, if he ever gets used to the heat. No matter what we do or believe, none of us gets out alive. ![]() Perhaps it was the simple commonality in it. Something compelled me to keep looking, to keep shooting. I wanted to ensure we were being respectful as we documented this foreign tradition in a foreign land. I didn’t feel entirely comfortable documenting such private moments. Unauthorized use is prohibited.Īt first, something seemed wrong about us being there.
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