Morning sunlight washes the Ganges in rose-infused haze. We row away from the bank, our wooden boat under the expert guidance of an elderly man as small as a 10-year old. Half naked pilgrims bathe at the famous gnats, bloated cow carcasses float by and the ever-present smell of curry and garlic, urine and rotting food accompanies us.
Nudity, human waste, cremation -- it all happens out in the open in Varanasi. And I can understand why Varanasi, while one of the holiest places on earth (Hinduism), seems like hell on earth to many. To get to the banks of the Ganges -- almost always a human crush of seekers -- you first tackle narr...
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