Today is Ganga Dusshera, also known as the Ganga Avataran Diwas. It is believed that the celestial river Ganga descended on Earth on the tenth day of the waxing moon in the Jyeshtha month of the Hindu Calendar. Taking a dip in the waters of Ganga during this time is said to purge devotees of lifetimes of sin. Ganga is the lifeline of a sizeable population from the North to the northeast part of India. Along with Yamuna (another river and important tributary), she forms the Great Northern Plains with rich alluvium — the food bowl region of India. Agrarian India depends on Ganga and her tributaries for sustenance. Only a mother can provide life and nourishment. It’s a testament to that love that she is fondly called ‘Ma Gange’ or Ganga Maiya (Mother Ganges) by Indians. In olden times, many festivals and celebrations centred around rivers. If the rivers dried up, civilisations died too. Ceremonies and rituals pertaining to birth, death, marriage, and naming were intricately tied up with rivers.
With the expansion of urban India, we have broken away from our village traditions. Consequently, we have strayed away from the rustic living that linked us intricately with nature. This massive change has come about in just one generation. My 65-year-old mother fondly recalls the days from her childhood when going to Ganga ghats for a holy dip was nothing short of a celebration. Her stories about Ganga Snana (ablution in Ganga) have fascinated me. What better time to recount them than today? Let me narrate it in her voice.
Those were simple days. People in the villages waited eagerly for Karthik Poornima in the month of November-December. It was the time when families travelled together to the Ganga Ghat. While one never wasted an opportunity to take a dip any time of the year, Karthik month was special. The slight chill in the air made it the perfect time to undertake a journey in bullock carts. Preparations were made a few months in advance. Bullocks were made ready for the task; they were given much nourishment like jaggery, oil and other stuff. Strips of vibrant cloth were wound around their horns, and their bodies were covered with homespun blankets to safeguard against cold. The carts were made comfortable with homemade mattresses and quilts. At a time, around 20 carts would start together at night. Women and children sat in the carts while the menfolk took turns walking alongside, so as to not stress the bullocks who were like family members. Little bells tied to bullocks’ necks jingled as the carts chugged on unmetalled roads flanked by a vast expanse of fields on both sides. The mood used to be celebratory. Those who wanted to sleep slept, but most of us did not want to waste a single moment sleeping. Slow and soft, the women crooned Ganga bhajans to the rhythm of the carts. “Sri gange se dhyaan lagana mujhe Man mail ko dho ke bahana mujhe” (I must fix my attention on Sri Ganga and think about her Thus, I will wash away the scum of my heart and be purified) Sometimes, grannies would help recall hymns. Most of these songs are lost now. We carried basic food: homemade laddoos and other sweetmeats, flour, lentils, and basic masalas in brass containers. By morning the carts reached the destination. People pitched tents using thick bedsheets or cotton tarpaulin. The open grounds next to the Ganga ghats would be our home for the next few days. First thing in the morning: we took a dip in the holy river. People sought Ganga ma’s blessings: newlyweds, childless couples, and older people. Everyone came with prayer and purpose. Those who had been blessed with a child came to express their gratitude. As part of a popular ritual, little children were dropped into the waters for a split second and caught immediately by the family members (who formed a chain around them), thus indicating an offering. Performing yagna and feeding people was very common. Plastic bags, and polythenes had not been not invented by that time, so there was little scope for pollution. I don’t recall using soaps and detergents either. People lived contentedly within their limited means. I remember women would make earthen hearths (chulha) by digging soil from the fields nearby. Then they prepared Urd daal and rotis using the Ganga water. Somehow, the food cooked near the ghats came out supremely delicious. One could never replicate the same taste back home. I am sure the secret ingredient was the water of the holy Ganga. During the day our tents would be visited by our relatives from other villages who had also come for snana. The village folk went to a fair held a little away from the river. At the fair they bought household stuff , and toys for children. One could eat golgappas and jalebis. Till the time we stayed near the river, we bathed every morning and evening. Three days later, it was time to go back home. Tents were uprooted, and bullocks readied for the journey. We parted from Mother Ganga promising to return soon. But you can only go when she calls.
Madhu Sharma
Sadly, we’ve lost these rituals and that life, in a matter of one generation. Ganga continues to flow ever so benevolently, also stressed by the world’s second-most populous nation. The love and reverence of Indians should get directed towards keeping the Ganga clean. Not only is it central to Indian life and culture but also supports rich biodiversity. The Government of India launched Namami Gange, a project to clean the river in 2014. Let’s support the initiative in whatever way we can. Jai ma Gange!
This article is a submission at the lotus feet of my guru Om Swami – the founder of the Vedic Sadhana app. The app helps you identify your ishta and then perform daily rituals that deepen your relationship with them. This incredible app makes the ancient rituals and practices followed by the sages of India available to you.
