In the sacred city of
Varanasi, where pilgrims come in search of redemption for their loved ones,
offering their ashes to the river after they die, devotees struggle to admit
that the river they worship as their mother is polluted indeed. “Ye pavitra
Ganga maiyya hai. Iske jal se aatma ko mukti milti hai” (She is the holy
Mother Ganga. Her waters bring you salvation) is the steady line uttered by
believers who come here for a ‘divine’ dip.
A strange dichotomy
exists between their respect for the river and their willingness to pollute it
all the same. During an early morning boat ride on the Ganga, I came across
people lathering themselves with soap for a ritual bath right where half-burnt
carcasses could be seen floating! Two ghats — Manikarnika and Harishchandra —
are into the business of burning and disposing off bodies round-the-clock.
Hindu religious beliefs and rituals surrounding death and other ceremonies are
central to the legitimisation of practices that encourage such pollution. At
Harishchandra Ghat, which receives up to 200 bodies every day for cremation, an
electrical crematorium set up by the local municipal body lies mostly unused. A
helper at the crematorium from the Dom community, which traditionally tends to
the pyres, says that people prefer using the electrical service only during the
rain when the wood used for burning the dead gets damp.
There was a point in
time when people justified disposing the dead into the river saying it served
as food for the aquatic animals in it. In Varanasi, turtles were bred and
released into the river to help break down the wastes.
However, B.D. Tripathy,
head of the Centre for Environmental Sciences and Technology at the Benares
Hindu University, says that this has not served the purpose, with the river’s
self-purifying capacity dwindling over the years. Construction of big dams for
hydroelectric projects, diversion of river water to supply water to various
cities, including Delhi, water-intensive irrigation practices for agriculture
by the river banks, and encroachments on the banks in cities like Patna and
Allahabad have all constricted the free flow of the river, vital for flushing
all the waste dumped into it.
In order to break down
all the organic waste dumped into the river, the water needs high levels of
oxygen. But the release of raw untreated sewage into the river has further
reduced its capacity for self-purification, Tripathy says.
Various studies have
shown that the river’s capacity to break down organic matter, measured by
Biochemical Oxygen Demand (BOD) has reduced considerably. While in a water body
fit for bathing BOD must not exceed 3 mg/litre of water; in the nine major
religious bathing ghats of Varanasi, BOD ranges from 4.8 mg to 62 mg/lt.
Given these concerns,
the central government is now contemplating a strict law to penalise those
throwing any form of waste into the river. Mohale says ‘Jal Police’ and CCTV
cameras would be placed on the ghats to monitor polluting practices, and heavy
fines would be imposed on violators, including those who use soap for bathing.
But for a holy city that thrives on the prospect of sending the deceased to
heaven, will penalising the polluters for such practices be feasible? That is
the question.
