The Promise
Varanasi- the sacred city where dying will bring Moksha to the dead person. No more birth and rebirth so that attainment of Nirvana is secured for the soul who just left the flesh – only the ultimate freedom–no more bondage, lust, no more day-to-day chores that maintains the life filled with family, children, and the boredom of living life.
Om Puri and his family lived in a spacious home in Varanasi close to the sacred river Ganges. It was a joint family where Puri clan shared the home over a century. Before his death Om saw his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren live in harmony in the house. He died at an early age of 82 years. His father and grandfather both lived hundred years before the Lord Yuma came and took them away with him. Om had six children; three older ones were boys and the remaining three were girls. He was happy as God gave him boys and girls so he could enjoy living with many grandchildren.
After Om Puri’s death, the oldest son Mahendra along with other siblings converted a part of the house into an Ashram for very sick people who would die soon. The house was over a hundred years old; they divided it into two parts, one side for family members to live and the other side for rooms to rent to guests. They built six small rooms, each about 15 x 11’ for guests. The family side had three flats, each with two rooms. They built two latrines for the family members to use and two other latrines for the renters to use in their side of the rectangular home. The century-old temple stayed in its own place. They built a kitchen to serve the guests. The old house went through extensive transformation so that a new Ashram could be built and rented. They incorporated vacant land in the plan so that the Ashram would have enough space to accommodate additional rooms. This business model to rent people who wanted accommodation in Varanasi was in demand and a profitable enterprise. But Mahendra and his siblings wanted to help families who were experiencing financial hardship.
Each guest family paid Rs.2000 for the room and board per month, which was very minimal compared to other homes nearby. This was Mahendra’s idea to provide a charitable contribution to various families burdened with ailing and aging members. This benevolent activities made Mahendra a leader in the society. He always mentioned his father was happy in heaven and sending him blessings for this good social deed.
Shiv Prasad Agarwal lived in old Delhi where he had a small grocery store. He and his wife Kamla had one son named Kishan. They struggled all their lives and raised their son to believe in God and follow a path righteousness. Kishan worked very hard to help his father whenever he had holidays during his studies. He excelled in school and graduated with high honors. Then he finished high school and pursued an engineering degree at Delhi University and graduated with flying colors. After graduation from engineering college a coal company hired him as an operations manager. Within two years he received promotion and moved up because of his work ethic, ability and operational management expertise. After seven years working with the company he worked at the headquarters in New Delhi.
After moving to New Delhi he built a large home and requested his father to sell his old small brick house in old Delhi and move to a new home. His father kept the old house and rented it, so that some money would come.
Time passed by. Kishan married and had two children. Shiv Prasad and Kamla loved their grandchildren and taught them how to be nice and kind to people and follow the path of righteousness. Grandchildren grew up and moved out to a private boarding school for their studies. Kishan was busy managing the coal company and became the chief executive officer of the company. Shiv Prasad and Kamla felt nobody needed them anymore. They were not happy even though they were affluent, but the beauty of life that they enjoyed before was missing.
Kamla developed high blood pressure and diabetes which took away her eyesight and within two years she passed away because of cardiac arrest. This sudden departure of Kamla devastated Kishan and Shiv Prasad. Kishan loved his mother and always thought she was a part of Goddess Ma Durga. Shiv Prasad missed his wife and prayed to Lord Shiva that he should grant him the salvation so he could join his wife.
Since Kamla’s death 10 years went by. Routine medical checks revealed Shiv Prasad had high blood Prostate-specific antigen (PSA). Subsequent extensive clinical tests and digital examination confirmed he had prostate cancer. The oncology specialist recommended surgery and chemotherapy. Kishan placed his father in the best hospital in Delhi and hired the best known cancer specialist to take care of his father’s health.
A couple of months later, the doctor told Kishan his father’s cancer has progressed to all his organs and no medication and radiation would stop the disease. He would die within six months. Continuing the chemotherapy will do no good. The doctor said he would prescribe medication to reduce the pain so he would not suffer much.
Kishan recalled 30 years ago his father once told him he wanted to die at Varanasi so he could achieve moksha. On that day he promised his father he would take him to Varanasi so he could die in peace and achieve moksha. After hearing the doctor’s final prognosis, he realized the time has arrived to fulfill his dad’s wishes.
Kishan made a plan to take his father to Allahabad first, then to Varanasi. The first leg of the journey was to fly from Delhi to Allahabad, stay there few days and rest. He wanted to surprise his dad by taking him on a boat ride to the intersection of the meeting point of three Rivers, known as Triveni Sangam. The three rivers were the Ganges, Yamuna and the Saraswati meeting together in one of the most sacred spot in India for centuries. Hindus believed bathing in this Triveni area would wash away all bad karma and misdeeds and purify their mind and soul. This purification of soul would free them from rebirth.
Shiv Prasad never thought he would bathe in the Triveni Sangam in his lifetime. This transformative experience made him cry with joy even though he was going through severe pain in his ribcage. They rested for three days in Allahabad, then boarded the Poorva Express train to reach Varanasi. After reaching Varanasi railway station they took a taxi cab to reach their destination, Shanti Ashram.
Kishan rented a room at Shanti Ashram for a long-term stay. He took a leave of absence from his chief executive officer position at the coal company so that he could look after his ailing father. They received a small room with two cots made with bamboo. A small wooden “Alna” with four racks to place clothes and a table with two drawers to keep valuables like watch, phone and other important items were also there. The drawers locked with a key. One ceiling fan tried to keep cool the room, as the temperature outside was near 100°F. One side of the Ashram three latrines stood for use by the occupants of the Ashram. They were clean, but the stench of urine mixed with naphthalene balls produced a burning sensation in the nose and eyes. There was also a kitchen to make three meals a day—all vegetarian food; no onion and garlic were allowed.
One month passed by since Kishan and his father arrived in Varanasi Shanti Ashram. One night Shiv Prasad felt a severe pain in his ribcage, the sternum. Kishan called the doctor to check his father’s health. The doctor checked him and an x-ray report showed his bone structures had reached a point where they could break and collapse any time without warning. Also, Shiv Prasad had edema in the heart. Doctors prescribed more painkillers to relieve the pain.
It was evening. The Shiv temple in the Ashram started the “Aarti”. The priest lit many lamps to offer light to the Lord Shiva. He held a lighted oil lamp in his right hand and a bell on his left hand. He started to move the lighted lamp in a circular motion while ringing the bell. Both hands were following a circular motion synchronized into a dance, offering prayers to Lord Shiva. Strong fragrance emanated from the lighted incense and chanting slokas created illusionary surroundings in the Temple.
Shiv Prasad was lying on his cot and he felt an acute pain on his left side of the chest, and developed spasms, gasping for air. Kishan was sitting next to his dad’s cot. He tried to help his father to breathe but with a loud hiccup he stopped breathing. Kishan called the hospital for an ambulance but when an ambulance came to pick up Shiv Prasad, he had passed away. It was too late to do anything.
The next morning Kishan with the help of neighbors of the Ashram carried the body in a funeral procession to the cremation ground near Manikarnika ghat. They rested the shiv on a wooden funeral pyre. Kishan lit the fire and poured ghee on the burning sandal wood that engulfed his body in a massive flame. Kishan looked at the fire. His eyes welled up and prayed to Shiva to grant moksha to his father.
When the body was completely cremated, Kishan collected ashes in a clay container and took a dip in the river Ganges and poured his father’s ash in the flowing river.
A Baul was singing in a nearby narrow road, the song of salvation where he said,
I am floating on air,
Following the way to reach the end of my journey
Where my freedom awaits,
As my life’s light dimmer to a complete darkness.
Moksha came close to me,
Touched my cold body,
Sang the song of death
that led into ultimate ecstasy,
Death could bestow on me.
I leave my chariot
Carried by Jetstream for the last time,
My song on salvation also dies with it!
I became a part of moksha for eternity.
No more pain, pleasure, sadness can touch me,
I am above them;
I embrace death with happiness, serenity
And silence will follow me.
Shanti Ashram is a unique place to live. You can see the new life is born one side of the Ashram; the other side you come across people who are waiting to leave this life where they could meet Nirvana and escape the cycle of birth and rebirth. The children running around the courtyard, some play soccer in a close by field. Young lovers embrace each other under the Saal tree. You can hear the arguments between family members in flats around the Ashram. Cries of newborn babies danced on the breeze and the soft melodies vibrate on the strings of a sitar, and you can see a wondering “Baul” singing the song of solitude and redemption.
Some days one can come across a funeral procession carrying a dead body covered with golden yellow marigold garlands heading towards the ghat. Once the procession reaches the cremation ground, members of the funeral party would place the body on the wooden pyre, and lit the fire. They feed the rising fire with melted butter and sandalwood chips to minimize the odor of burnt hair and flesh. The chanting of slokas purify the human spirit and carry the human soul to the great abode of the God.
Shanti Ashram and its surrounding is like a miniature world where a group of humans live among nature including trees, animals, ponds, river and go through a cycle of life and death which includes life’s passion, sadness, laughter, pathos, and a strong desire to live and exist as best someone can. That cycle of eternity embraces time, space and unknown void as the enchanting black hole that subsume everything mortal and immortal. Could that be the Nirvana? Or could it be an illusion which does not exist?