Rebirth of India: Superior

Shakru suddenly pointed to a barren land opposite and asked: "Ms. Zeta, why is there no house on the other side of the river?"

Priti explained: "I once asked the people in the Tourism Bureau about this question. It is said that it is more effective to face the rising sun when bathing, so the bathing place and the houses are built to the east. As a result, the whole town can only develop in one direction, so there are completely different scenery on both sides of the river."

Shakru pointed to the beggars on the shore who had incomplete limbs due to leprosy and asked: "It is said that the water of the Ganges can cure leprosy and skin diseases. Is this true? And what about those old people lying on the river bank?"

Priti thought for a while, then smiled bitterly and said: "According to the investigation, here The water quality is slightly acidic and may contain sulfur, so there is some basis for its therapeutic effect, but that was the Ganges before, and it is probably bad enough now.

As for those old people, they came here to wait for death, firstly because they have no money to stay in a hotel, and secondly because according to the local custom, as long as they die on the bank of the Ganges, they can get free cremation and scatter their ashes into the Ganges. If they die halfway after leaving, they will have no chance to see the Ganges, so they will not leave here anyway, and they eat and live on the bank every day, just waiting for death to come! "

Shakru thought, in addition to eating and living, you have not mentioned excretion. No wonder the whole river bank is stinking. So many people who are waiting to die like ants sleep by the river, how much excrement will there be every day. So he stopped asking and began to observe those who took morning baths and prayed.

At this moment, it was not bright yet and the temperature was still low. Countless black people were all soaking in the river water. It can be seen that some people were shivering because of the cold. Men were shirtless, wearing only shorts. They were of all ages, mostly elderly, extremely fat or extremely thin, with few in between. Women were all wearing saris, but only the middle-aged and elderly dived into the water, their gray hair tangled with their gauze clothes and scarves, drank a few sips and then emerged. No one smiled, and no one was seen talking. Everyone was silently soaking and drinking water.

Some people dipped their bodies into the Ganges, respectfully scooped up the river water, and then poured the water over their heads; some people submerged their entire bodies except their heads; some people would rinse their mouths and clean their ears with river water, but everyone would pray devoutly facing the rising sun.

There were also a few middle-aged men and women brushing their teeth on the steps. No one used a toothbrush, half used their fingers, and half used branches. After brushing, they swallowed the water, and then scooped up a few handfuls to drink, which was exactly the opposite of the direction in which people in other countries spit water when brushing their teeth. At this time, a policeman came and poked an old man lying on the river bank. He was obviously dead, having died on the bank of the Ganges last night or this morning. No one paid attention to this scene, as everyone had long been accustomed to it.

The dead will be dragged to a nearby place and burned in the government crematorium. But ordinary people will never enter this crematorium. As long as they have some money, they will definitely go to the cremation pit by the river. This cremation pit is close to the river surface and has become part of the riverbed. Boats of firewood are moored by the water, and corpses wrapped in colorful cloth are lined up on the side of the boat.

The burning has never stopped, and the stench is pungent. The workers pour spoonfuls of grease with spices on it, which makes the smell even more suffocating. All of this is not only visible to everyone, but has also become the most important landscape on the bank of the Ganges. There is a large area of ​​shabby houses around the several cremation pits, all of which have been blackened by the smoke from years of continuous fire. About ten meters away from the fire and smoke, half a dead cow is floating, with its cavity outside, and wild dogs are gnawing at it. A few steps further, a row of men were brushing their teeth and swallowing water, mouthful after mouthful.

Seeing this, Shakru couldn't help it anymore, and he leaned on the edge of the boat and vomited non-stop, as if he wanted to churn out everything in his stomach.

Zeta patted his back and said gently: "Boss, it's okay, I was like this when I first came here, in fact, I got used to it after coming here many times."

Although Shakru didn't say anything, he felt extremely sad in his heart. He once thought that since he had traveled to this body, he would try his best to integrate into the life here, but until this moment, he was sure that he would never be able to regard himself as an Indian. This was not contempt for a nation, but he didn't want to hide his attitude towards the landscape in front of him, because the sadness here concerned all mankind.

As a human being, you should know some of the most basic things you should and shouldn't do. It is difficult to find a dead elephant in the world, because even elephants know how to cover up. Once again, I would like to thank our pre-Qin philosophers for teaching the Chinese people so many "don'ts" early on: don't look at what is inappropriate, don't listen to what is inappropriate, don't do what is inappropriate, don't do to others what you don't want others to do to you...

Sometimes it seems a little strict, but without prohibition, how can there be civilization? Without fences, how can there be society? Without covering, how can there be shame? Without rules, how can there be square and circle?

By the Ganges, what I saw was that human filth, human ugliness, and human death could be exaggeratedly exposed and released to others and nature without restraint. Due to India's population explosion, this behavior is becoming an unprecedented gathering, and huge crowds are rushing to the river day and night.

They say they want to rely on the Ganges from beginning to end, but in fact they are wasting the Ganges without leaving any room for their lives. Shakru could not help but think angrily that in the early years when the Ganges was clean and could still reflect people's faces, people would at least know a little shame. Now, in the eyes of the Ganges, what are these people who pollute the river every morning in rags, crowd the river for a long time waiting to die, and throw the remnants of their lives into the river to float and show off after death?

Some people may explain how clean a nation washed by the river every day is, how poetic the picture of men and women bathing together in the morning mist is, and how much an ancient civilized custom needs to be respected. But everything in front of him made Shakru feel that all explanations were so pale and powerless. In the future, even if there are thousands of reasons for me to say a few words about the beauty of the morning bath in the Ganges, my answer will be: my eyes and conscience will not agree. Because what I see there is not a backward custom, but a human tragedy, so I have to compete and feel heavy.

The foul smoke and dust all merged into the morning mist. Above the other side of the Ganges, the faint red light lifted up a rising sun. There was no dazzling light, but it just rose quietly. I looked at the rising sun and thought to myself, how much patience does it have for humans?

PS: Part of this chapter comes from Mr. Yu Qiuyu's "A Sigh for a Thousand Years". I hereby declare that if you are interested in India, you can take a look at the India chapter of this book, which is very real and heavy. Mobile users please visit http://m.piaotia.net