Room for All
by Levi Ben-Shmuel

November 2004
The hired car arrived at the outskirts of Varanasi around 4 a.m. after a grueling 22 hour drive from Agra that covered a mere 352 miles. The last two hours of the trip we made sure to play music, speak loudly and occasionally clap our hands to insure that the driver didn’t fall asleep. As the car pulled into the silent city, we came across an Indian policeman sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of an empty traffic circle holding a big night stick in his hands. He stared at us with hard eyes as we drove by. The picture was surreal; I felt as if we were on another planet. The typical colors, sounds and smells of an Indian city were gone. The place looked like a ghost town that had been plopped down from another time and place and bathed in fluorescent light. I thought to myself, “What is going on here? This is the strangest city I have ever seen!”

A good night’s rest (well, a good morning’s rest) and daylight opened my eyes to a different Varanasi. Our hotel sat a few yards away from the holy Ganges, a river that had much to teach me over the next ten days.

Varanasi, also known as Benares, is the holiest place on earth for Hindus. According to Hindu mythology, it is the place created by Shiva and his bride Parvati at the beginning of time, and the place he still considers his home. Varanasi is also known as Kashi (from the root ‘Kas’ – to shine) and is called the city of spiritual light. Those who die there are guaranteed moksha (liberation) from the wheel of karma, meaning they no longer have to return to earth in human form to play out the human drama. Thousands come to the city for their last days on earth awaiting final liberation.

The life of the city revolves around the Ganges. At dawn thousands descend the ghats (flights of steps that lead to the river) into the river to do arati (prayers that include the use of light) and bathe. The sounds of clanging bells and devotional prayers floated up to our hotel windows each morning. It was a time of day when holiness filled the air. A few hours later under a blazing sun, life continued to teem in the river and along her banks. Hundreds of women washed clothes in the holy water. Children screamed for joy as they romped in her. Boats lazily took tourists for rides up and down the river. Ashes of cremated bodies poured into her night and day. An occasional dead cow (and I’ve been told dead body) floated by. Young hustlers constantly hassled tourists to buy postcards or take a tour of the city.

Before we left for India I knew that I needed to visit this ancient city. I didn’t know why. During my first morning walk along the ghats I took in the incredible amount and variety of activity along the Ganges. At first it didn’t make any sense to me: “How can people bathe, pray, clean their clothes, and play in the same water that is filled with ashes of cremated bodies and dead animals?” All the guide books said the water was highly polluted and don’t go near it if you value your life! What did the Indians know that I didn’t about that river?

In Hindu religion and mythology the Ganges is a goddess, Ganga, daughter of the mountain god Himalaya. Many refer to her as Mother Ganges, a physical manifestation of the Divine Mother. As I took my morning walks along the banks of the river, taking in the tremendous activity beside me, the lesson that Mother Ganges had for me crystallized. Just as a mother accepts and loves her children as they are, including the good and the bad, Mother Ganges accepts and embraces all that comes to her. It didn’t matter if it was dead, decayed, dirty, full of life and joy, or full of devotion. It was all welcomed and used to enhance life for those willing to accept the unity of it all, no matter what form it was in.

The gift the river had for me was a lesson in letting go of my judgments and beliefs about separating life into compartments, some of which were “good” and acceptable, others “bad” and to be avoided. The Ganges taught me that I don’t have to push life away in order to feel safe and secure. Just as there is room in her for all of life, I realized there was a lot more room in me for more of life.

I never would have guessed that first early morning as we drove into Varanasi what a wonderful gift was waiting for me along the banks of the Ganges. I saw that unity is possible when one is willing to accept the good and the bad of life and make room for it all. It didn’t mean that all of a sudden life was wonderful and nothing bothered me (I still kept my eye open for pick pockets and others of ill intent, and I still got angry and frustrated at times). It meant that I could relax a bit more, knowing that it was all part of a bigger whole that was being taken care of, and held, in love and compassion.