Difficult for me to come to terms with the reality lived by Dom women on Varanasi’s cremation ghats: Radhika Iyengar

 A cremation in progress at Manikarnika Ghat in Varanasi. Photo from iStock for representation use

Varanasi, Kashi, Benares, Banaras. A city known by several names, the settlement on the banks of the Ganga in the eastern part of Uttar Pradesh is said to be one of the oldest, continually-inhabited habitations on Earth. Varanasi has captured the human imagination since millennia. The city of Lord Shiva, where people come to die and attain salvation.

But what about those who provide this salvation? The Dom caste traditionally carries out cremations in Varanasi as it is believed such a cremation helps the soul of the deceased attain salvation.

Away from the cremation ghats of Varanasi though, Doms are outside the pale of caste. Unwanted, humiliated and dehumanised, their story has never been told. Until now.

In her latest book, Fire on the Ganges: Life among the dead in Banaras (published by HarperCollins India), Radhika Iyengar writes a searing, gripping account of the lived realities of the Doms, a marginalised community of cremators in Varanasi. Of men who spend their (short) lives burning corpses. Of women whose lives are lived at the intersection of patriarchy, caste and poverty. Of a community that embodies a paradox — being in high demand at the cremation ghat and persona non grata outside it.

Down To Earth spoke to Iyengar about her experiences while writing the book. Edited excerpts:

Rajat Ghai (RG): For a caste group that is the object of extreme stigma, did you have to walk a tightrope to bring out the dehumanising suffered by the people you wrote about, at the same time showing that they are after all, humans?

Radhika Iyengar (RI): For me, the aim was to interview the members of the Dom community, document their experiences, and provide to the readers an intimate account of their lives. It was important to inform the readers about a community that exists at the margins of society. As a reporter, I was driven to understand how the Dom men who laboured at the cremation ground every day, handling corpses and setting pyres alight for a meagre income, felt on a daily basis? They lead lives that are centred around death. The men work in an unpredictable and dangerous environment where they often injure or burn themselves while stoking the pyres. They inhale the thick pyre smoke, which causes occupational diseases, and are often dehydrated while working amidst intense flames. At the same time, they don’t have the sufficient funds to receive regular medical care. The men find solace in alcohol and drugs to cope with their circumstances.

The profession of cremating the dead is extremely dehumanising, not only in terms of the work environment but also due to the stigma attached to the funerary work. It is a profession rooted in religion and tradition, and is perpetuated by the caste system. Of course, it deeply affects the corpse-burners physically and psychologically. However, despite the fact that they have to struggle so hard in such extenuating circumstances, the men continue to be strong and resilient. These individuals are real people leading real lives. Their lives hold meaning and their crucial work needs to be acknowledged.

RG: What was it like to write about the plight of Dom women, a minority within a minority? 

RI: The Dom women’s lives are pitched at the intersection of patriarchy, poverty and caste subjugation. Within the community, the women’s lives are moored to their domestic responsibilities; they are not permitted to step outside their homes to work, nor do they enjoy any kind of financial autonomy. Hunger and malnutrition are serious concerns. One of the protagonists, Dolly, whom I interviewed for the book, informed me that pregnant women, to curb their hunger, sometimes break and grind earthen clay cups, and swivel the powder with water in their mouths, before spitting it out. Dolly, who is a young widow in her 30s, and a mother of five children, mostly subsists on paan, while ensuring that her children are fed.

Years ago, after the death of her husband, when Dolly tried to look for cooking and cleaning jobs in dominant caste homes to earn and support her children, she was only offered latrine-cleaning jobs, due to her caste. Eventually, she sold all of her jewellery to open a small, makeshift kirana store in her basti. However, this act of survival by Dolly was frowned upon by her community, since as I mentioned earlier, Dom women are not expected to earn. So, Dolly faces a backlash from the community for ‘transgressing’, and that incident is relayed in the book. However, Dolly takes it in her stride, and as the book progresses, one learns how truly resilient she is as a woman.

Dolly, however, is an exception. Women in her community to this day are not allowed to nurture any kind of professional ambitions. Even when they step outside their neighbourhood, they have to be accompanied either by their husbands or a male relative. They lead extremely confined lives, and don’t have a say in deciding their future.

I am aware of the hold patriarchy has over Indian society and how it affects the lives of all women across the country in varying degrees. However, it was difficult for me to come to terms with the reality lived by the Dom women, who not only have to battle patriarchy each day, but also the brutality of the caste system and the crushing weight of poverty.

RG: You mention in the book about how the Doms, though they have to burn bodies because of their caste, feel they are divinely ordained for this task. Describe this paradox.

RI: The Doms belong to the oppressed caste and earn a living by cremating corpses, which is why they continue to be treated as ‘untouchables’ by several dominant caste Hindus. At the same time, in Hindu society, it is believed that if a deceased is cremated by the Doms’ sacred fire, only then will their soul achieve moksha (salvation). This sacred fire was supposedly given as a boon by Lord Shiva to the Dom community, and only the latter can claim ownership to it. Therefore, the sacred fire — and by association, the Doms — carry deep religious and traditional significance. Yet, the Doms’ ‘worth’ is not recognised beyond the cremation grounds.

The Doms believe that they are the ‘chosen ones’ of Shiva. In the book, Vicky Chaudhary who is a Dom proudly asserts, “Raja ho ya fakir, aakir mein Chaudhary ji ka pair pakarna hi pakarna hai. No matter if you are a prince or a pauper, at the end of the day, you have to fall at a Chaudhary’s feet.”

In this regard, the act of giving moksha to the deceased by the Doms, is glorified. The Doms glorify their work as a way to justify their place in Hindu society — a society that otherwise completely disregards them, humiliates them and renders them invisible. The community, therefore, fiercely protects its identity as one that provides moksha. Many Doms have told me that this is their “birth right”. By doing so, they are unwittingly perpetuating the narrative of oppression, because in reality, no privileged caste person will be willing to burn corpses. 

RG: Why have affirmative action policies or electoral politics not been able to make a dent on the world of the Doms that you have chronicled in your work?

RI: At the moment, Varanasi is undergoing a significant transformation. Multiple developmental projects for the city worth over Rs 19,000 crore have been greenlit. New roads and bridges are being built. The Prime Minister was recently in the city to flag off the Vande Bharat Express that connects Varanasi to Delhi. In September, the foundation stone for an international cricket stadium was laid. Of course, the sprawling Kashi Vishwanath Corridor that connects the Kashi Vishwanath Temple to the riverbank of the Ganges, has received considerable news coverage over the last few years. From that viewpoint, it’s evident that serious preparations for the 2024 General Elections are underway.

However, the Dom basti which I have reported on, is tucked away into a corner of the city. Hardly anyone is concerned about where they live and how they live. There continues to be a water shortage in the basti. Many members of the community don’t have access to proper toilets. They reside in cramped, one-room homes. While there are government schemes available, unfortunately, not all the members of the community are aware of their existence. If they are aware, most are illiterate and are unable to fill the forms on their own.

Further, many of them don’t have the necessary documents to fulfil the application form requirements. Or sometimes, even if the form is filled, the intended beneficiary is not able to receive the assistance or the subsidy, since it gets misdirected elsewhere due to the presence of middlemen. In this regard, when it comes to accessing government schemes, the situation on-ground remains the same for the Doms, or has improved only by a margin. The Doms however, are hopeful that when a new government forms in 2024, their situation will improve.