Episode 2 The Ganges with Sue Perkins

This is the Ganges, a river like no other on Earth.

Its waters bring life to hundreds of millions of people across India.

Turn. Other way for it. That's not good. That way.

That's better.

To a billion Hindus, it's the immortal mother goddess,

who'll wash away a lifetime of sins.

I'm going to explore the length of this beautiful, contradictory,

and rather pungent river...

Sour with some quite uric undertones.

..from its source high in the Himalayas...

This is why my make-up is so flawless.

..through some of the most crowded, chaotic,

and exciting places in the world.

Is this the queue for the toilet?

It is? God, I've got a wait on me.

I'm halfway down the Ganges, in Varanasi,

India's most intense and beautiful city...

Yes, you're all very fit.

Yes, you are.

..where the living rub shoulders with the dead...

The ashes of a recently cremated human rubbed all over.

..and the power of the Ganges is at its greatest.

This place is the gateway to paradise.

Ooh!

I never thought I'd be sharing tattoo stories with an 83-year-old.

But it's here that the river also faces its biggest challenges.

-So, this is raw sewage?

-Yeah.

What does the future hold for the Ganges in the India of tomorrow?

SHE COUGHS

I don't even know what that smell is.

That's, like, a new smell.

What's that smell?

I've arrived in the holy,

if a little whiffy, city of Varanasi.

Varanasi lies in the centre of the great Gangetic Plain

in the state of Uttar Pradesh, halfway down the Ganges,

between the mountains and the sea.

Careful of the dog.

It's a magical place, steeped in ancient culture.

To wander round its narrow lanes is like stepping back in time.

Varanasi is the oldest living city on earth.

Also, I have to say, definitely the smelliest.

It is taking every ounce of concentration I have to avoid...

I'm so sorry. So sorry.

Good to experience it with concussion, as well.

It's taking every ounce of concentration just to avoid

the proliferation of turds on the ground. We've got cow, pig...

Not sure. I think that's goat. And that's definitely human.

Excuse me, I'm going to avoid that.

Cow coming through.

This city is not just an assault on the senses, it's all-out war.

HORN HONKS

I'm here at the start of summer, and it's 47 degrees centigrade.

Super cool. Super cool.

Are you after a sari?

Guess it makes a change from a china shop.

Many travellers to India will stop off in Varanasi for a day or two

to take in the sights of this ancient city.

But for India's 950 million Hindus, it has a unique significance,

and to really understand why,

I'm going to be sticking around a little bit longer -

for two whole weeks.

And, believe it or not, this is the main draw in Varanasi -

the constant presence of death.

This isn't just a floral display.

If you're a Hindu, then to die here

and to be cremated on the banks of the Ganges is to achieve moksha

and escape the eternal cycle of death and rebirth.

THEY CHANT

As you walk the lanes of the old city,

dead bodies are rushed past you on the way to the cremation grounds

that lie on the banks of the river.

You think you're going to feel frightened maybe

at the thought of corpses just being carried along the streets.

But in all this chaos, it just feels completely normal, actually,

and almost comforting that the living and the dead should occupy these streets together.

This place is sort of like the lanes in Brighton,

but with death and cowpats.

THEY CHANT

If only there were somewhere where I could watch a cremation

and get a refreshing juice.

To guide me through this strangest of cities,

I've arranged to meet Navneet, an expert on all things Varanasi.

-Hi. Are you Navneet?

-Yeah. Hello, Sue.

-I'm Sue. Really good to see you. How are you?

-Nice to see you.

-Good, good.

-Good.

HE SPEAKS OWN LANGUAGE

That's what you need in this heat - a good brew.

They say that heat kills heat.

I tell you, I don't need any more heat. My back's like Niagara.

It's a warren, isn't it?

Varanasi is the most Ganges of the Ganges cities,

by which I mean that all roads lead to the water.

Finally, though, after all the sort of crush of the cobbled street,

-which is slightly claustrophobic...

-Yes.

Who'd have thought this stretch of the Ganges,

which is famous for cremation,

would suddenly feel like a breath of fresh air? But it does!

That's the view of the river.

And it's beautiful. I wasn't expecting that at all.

It's not until you see the banks of the Ganges

that you appreciate the true glory of Varanasi.

On the north side of the river,

miles of crumbling temples tumble down to the water.

Each day, thousands of people come here to bathe in its sacred waters.

But alongside this life and bustle and activity

are the ever-burning pyres of the cremation grounds.

Over 150 bodies are burned in Varanasi every day.

You can see the smoke coming from the ghats.

It's extraordinary - Varanasi is seen as a place of death,

-and yet it feels so incredibly alive, isn't it?

-Yes.

Actually, all aspects of life are in one frame in Varanasi.

Even death is celebrated here.

-That's such an enlightened way of looking at it.

-Yeah.

And you're so up close to it, as well, whereas, in the West,

we try and keep as far away from death as possible.

So, as soon as someone's died, put them in a box,

don't look at them, burn them away, you know.

So, the very purpose is the liberation from death -

from the cycle of life and death.

Just as I breath in a lungful of air,

I notice that somebody's drying their pants just there.

Sort of says everything you need to, really.

Lovely array of undercrackers.

One of the main attractions here are the bathing ghats.

Varanasi is not just for the old and infirm.

-Look at them enjoying themselves.

-Yes.

Bathing in the waters here cleanses the soul, whatever your age.

The religious interaction isn't sort of po-faced.

You know, it's almost like a family outing.

It's like everyone's laughing and playing

and the kids are swimming around and joking.

A lot of these are children who must have come to the city

for once in their lifetime, you know?

It's like for the Muslims to go to Mecca.

-Sure.

-So...

-The Hindus have Varanasi.

Yeah. So, they have...

So, for them, it's once in their lifetime, so they...

And in this heat, you would also enjoy a nice dip.

HE CHUCKLES

And also, this river is sacred, and it can't be made dirty.

I'm no scientist, but...that's deeply brown, isn't it?

-It is.

-It's deeply brown.

-Yes, yes.

Dirty or not, this stretch of the Ganges

is of huge spiritual significance to many of India's religions,

which means it's also pretty busy.

The whole of life is playing here. You know, it's out in the open.

It's all in the public domain that you live your life.

A standard barber here would give you a standard haircut.

See, I'll show you what happens with life and death here.

You see, every stage of life, we come to the river.

So, this is a special ritual that happens.

So, this young child, she's been brought here,

and her hair has been shaved off.

-And what does that mean?

-As an offering.

You offer your hair as a way of offering your ego,

because that's also your pride.

-"Oh, my hair looks good, I look good."

-Yeah.

-So, is this man a holy man?

-No, he is a barber.

-And it's to do with giving up your ego?

-Yes.

I think I'm overdue a haircut. That's all I'm going to say!

It's a bit like going for a walk on the prom,

if the prom was in 50-degree heat and just full of pilgrims.

Hello. How are you doing? Namaste. Nice to meet you.

-Namaste.

-Thank you.

-Nice to see you. How are you doing? Good?

Despite looking like an extra from a Monty Python film,

Nirmal Baba is an Aghori monk - an extreme sect of Hinduism.

Very good. Just making sure that the moustache is properly adjusted.

-I'm Nirmal Baba. I'm Nirmal Baba.

-Yeah.

I think your chest hair is recognising our boom

as a long-lost relative.

-The same sort of pelts.

-Same, same.

-Yeah. Same, same.

-Your hair same.

-Yes.

My hair is the same, especially across the chest.

-Your name?

-Sue.

-Sue?

-Sue.

-OK.

-Yes.

-So, this is my first time to...

-First time Varanasi?

First time Varanasi.

-Yes.

-Yeah.

It is an extraordinary place.

Yes.

OK?

The Aghoris live in the cremation grounds

and seek a slightly darker path to salvation.

Shunned by society, they smother themselves in human ashes,

and are even known to eat human remains.

But I'll have to say, he looks pretty damn good on it.

-So, these are ashes that you've got from the cremation site?

-Yes.

If you want to know how closely life and death are linked in this place,

there you have it.

The ashes of a recently cremated human rubbed all over.

Certainly the most radical exfoliating scrub I've come across.

Do you know what? I think you look awesome,

and no-one's going to mess with you now.

So, what does he do now?

-Does it sort of bake into the skin for the rest of the day?

-Yeah.

It's like a sun protection.

SHE LAUGHS

Turn. Other way for it.

That's not good. That way.

That's better.

That's better. Yes, better, better.

Varanasi is a place of immense spiritual importance.

A million pilgrims pour into this city each year seeking solace,

some to die, some to bathe in the river,

others to simply visit the temples and just take in the sights.

For one group of resourceful young lads,

these visitors are a gift from the gods.

So, I hear you guys are good at diving.

That was a lot more of a classical dive

than I thought it was going to be.

Another exquisite dive.

Who's next? Oh, this is getting serious now.

This is getting serious. A lot of stripping off going on.

-Oh, this looks good.

-Very good.

-Oh!

-That was incredibly impressive.

-Yeah.

-Very good.

-Very good.

-Very good.

Another exquisite dive.

Yeah, I used to be able to, but then I really hurt myself.

These guys are known locally as the magnet boys.

Right, now the diving is over,

I think we should do some fishing for money.

Are you going to show me how you do it?

They've devised an ingenious new way of making a living out of the river.

As the trains thunder over the Rajghat Malviya Bridge,

passengers make offerings to the Ganges

and throw coins into the river.

OK, let's make sure we're balanced by me sitting...

The boys buy magnets taken from old electrical devices,

then tie them together to form a sort of magnetic dragnet.

They drop this to the riverbed some 70ft below and then drag,

fishing for pennies from heaven.

OK, so we've got two boats.

Shall we have a competition - who can fish for the most money?

May the best magnet boy win.

-Yeah, yeah, yeah.

-Yeah, yeah, yeah,

-Time?

-Yeah.

-Yes, sir. Aye, aye, skipper.

Right, wide load is moving to facilitate the kids.

Quite a lot of that went in the mouth, which is good. Yeah.

Certainly tasted the Ganges there, and I can report back it's sour

with some...quite uric undertones.

Oh, look at that. This one is a real showman.

Come on!

Slightly wishing I was on his team, actually. He's pretty good.

TRAIN HORN HONKS

Unfortunately, it's not just cash

that rains down from the passing trains.

Probably asking yourselves,

"Why's Sue putting an umbrella up in 42-degree heat?"

Well, the train's coming and I'm right under the bridge,

and to put no finer point on it, the shit is about to hit the fan.

Watch yourselves.

Couple of light splats but nothing solid, which is a victory,

as far as I'm concerned.

So, do you leave it in and then let it drag in the water?

Ah, to try and get as many coins.

Right, here we go. TRAIN HORN HONKS

-OK, how many did we get? How many coins?

-Three.

-Three coins.

Let's see what our rivals got, OK?

How many coins?

It's a heat! It's a tie! It's a dead heat.

How many rupees per day do you normally get?

-150.

-150.

And how many hours do you work to get 150 rupees?

People on the trains are throwing coins into the Ganges as blessings.

How do you feel about taking that money, then, once it's in the water?

Yes, these kids manage to scrape a living,

but there are some serious downsides.

The water round here is dangerously polluted

and the bridge has become THE place to go

for people who want to commit suicide.

-One, two dead bodies.

-Every day?

-BOY SPEAKS OWN LANGUAGE TRANSLATOR:

-Yeah, I see every day.

-Every day?

-Yes.

-Every day.

-Yes.

-From people who have tried to commit suicide from the bridge?

-Yeah.

But you're just kids. That's a lot to see when you're very young,

isn't it? Lots of difficult things to see.

Yeah, but it doesn't scare you any more?

-It does?

-Yeah.

Yeah. So, what job would you like to do when you're bigger?

What are you going to do when you're bigger?

Can you check my pulse?

Am I alive? That's quite a firm grip you've got there.

Go on, then.

How about you?

Ah, OK. Let's see the professional diver to be.

India's best diver.

That really must have hurt the back quite badly.

I hope these kids get to hold on to their dreams.

Most of them hardly ever go to school

because their families already expect them to be out

and earning money.

But with energy like this, given half a chance,

who knows what they could achieve?

What a cracking bunch of whip-thin, super-smart kids,

and a credit to the entrepreneurial spirit that is modern India.

And they have got an answer for everything.

You know, what do you do when wee and poo rains down on you?

"Well, I just jump in the river."

What are you going to be when you grow up?

"I'm going to be a doctor." "I'm going to sell saris."

Don't you feel bad about taking money that's essentially an offering?

"Ma Ganga will provide."

Oh, for an ounce of what they've got.

You soon learn that everything comes back to the Ganges in Varanasi.

Every night, crowds flock to the Dashashwamedh Ghat.

They come to watch Hindu priests perform the Ganga Aarti ceremony

and make a commitment to the Lord Shiva,

one of the most powerful Hindu gods.

HORNS HONK

While much of India is rapidly modernising,

parts of Varanasi feel as if they still belong to the ancient world.

For thousands of years, the city's position on the Ganges

has made it the centre of trade and industry...

..and its streets still support age-old crafts and traditions.

CLACKING

You can hear it. You can hear the click-clack of these old looms.

Look at that!

Namaste.

In these cramped and hot workshops,

men painstakingly weave beautiful saris,

thread by silken thread,

just as their fathers and grandfathers did before them.

But the rise of mechanised power looms

are threatening this traditional way of life.

Namaste.

I've come to the workshop of master weaver Shuka Ali

to witness what may be the dying breaths of this ancient industry.

How are you doing?

Good? Namaste.

Shuka's son, Rafiuddin, is going to show me the ropes.

May I sit here? HE SPEAKS OWN LANGUAGE

You really need to be a sort of 7st gymnast

to make this move that I'm about to do work,

but I'm going to give it a go anyway.

So, just pop down, yeah?

Wow, that IS snug! SHE CHUCKLES

We've only just met!

So, how long have you been a weaver for?

-TRANSLATOR:

-Ten years.

-Ten.

You must have been a tiny boy when you started.

So, your legs must have not been able to reach

where you need on a loom.

No. No.

And how long does it take to perfect it?

Right, it's all in the wrists, I think.

To make one inch of material,

Rafiuddin has to do this 250 times.

You know I want to have a go.

That's going to take a while. Oh, look at you.

That's too fast, that one.

Better.

What have I got to do here? Oh, on the foot pedals?

SHE GASPS I've graduated. Where is it?

I think this is how he finds his wives.

I think this is how it begins.

Ah, got it now. OK, got it.

Each sari contains a rainbow of colours and threads,

and, slowly, a pattern emerges,

but it's a painstaking process.

I have to say, quite a lot of the loom is up my jacksie right now.

Yeah, that's...

Yeah, that's got stuck on my buttock.

So, when you started and you were 12 years old,

did you want to spend your days inside learning how to be a weaver?

-You have to honour the family tradition.

-Mm.

So, what did you want to be?

If you'd had your own choice at 12 years old,

what would you have been doing?

-So, you can't even have the dream to be something else?

-No.

So, it's... you weave, you sleep, you weave, you sleep?

Are you ever tempted to go to the dark side

and start using the power loom, or would your dad be too angry?

But while hand-weavers make 25cm of material a day,

the power looms churn out 25m.

It's sad to think that once these traditional skills are lost,

they'll be gone forever.

Just stunning!

It makes me feel joy to look at these. Pure joy.

One, two, three...

-BOTH:

-Four, five, six.

-So many colours.

-Seven.

-Eight.

-Eight.

How long did this take to make?

And for one week, they pay you how many rupees?

Oh!

Beautiful. Beautiful.

Then people are idiots.

Because they'd rather spend it, what, on an iPhone?

My natural inclination is always to support craft and craftspeople,

to value skills passed down from generation to generation.

But I also wonder if someone like Rafiuddin

would quite like to go and just join his mates on the power loom

and have an easier life.

Perhaps it's hard for a city so consumed by tradition,

religion and death to move forward.

Although, in the Hindu universe, death is rarely the end.

More often, it's just part of a process of birth and rebirth...

..one where, eventually, you reach the state known as moksha

and become one with the universe.

It's a slow process, but if you die in Varanasi,

you can fast-track yourself into the realm of the immortals.

To die here in Varanasi is, in many ways,

the ultimate end goal for the truly devout Hindu.

And so, each year, thousands flock here as a pilgrimage

when they feel their days are numbered.

For those who arrive and then realise

they might have a little bit more time than they thought,

there's a burgeoning industry that caters for their final days,

or months, or even years.

Varanasi has become famous for its so-called death hotels...

..a sort of departure lounge to the next world...

..an all-too-real Real Marigold Hotel.

-Namaste.

-Namaste.

-Namaste. Namaste.

-Namaste. Namaste.

Meet Gulab Devi, also known as Grandma.

Thank you for agreeing to see me.

She came here with her husband, a retired army officer,

but, sadly, he checked out some time ago.

Grandma is obviously intent on dying in Varanasi,

but it's taking just a little bit longer than planned.

And how old are you? May I ask how old you are?

-84! 84.

-84?

-Yeah.

Somehow, she's been here for 30 years now,

patiently waiting for the blessed relief of death.

You have more energy than I do and I am...

40 years younger than you, nearly.

-Me bold.

-Your balls?

-Bold.

-Bold.

-Oh, bold! Got you. Got you.

Yes, you are bold. SHE GRUNTS

Ready. Ready to face the next part of your journey.

SHE SPEAKS OWN LANGUAGE

I wasn't expecting that. I wasn't.

You could come out of nowhere and just grab.

But if anyone gets in your way...

-Mm.

-I'm loving this tattoo.

-It's not many 83-year-olds you see with a full tatt going on.

-Mm.

Rama, Sita.

-Rama, Sita.

-Mm.

-And this?

Yeah. Temple.

-Temple.

-These are just the only two?

-No.

-No.

-Oh, you have got another one? This...

-Yeah?

Mm, I have one.

SHE SPEAKS OWN LANGUAGE I know, it's tiny

because I'm a real wimp.

I'm not like you. I'm not blessed with your strength.

THEY LAUGH

I never thought I'd be sharing tattoo stories with an 83-year-old.

Yes, I know she's 84, but I took a year off because I loved her.

There are 90 residents in the death hotel

and a waiting list of 100 more eager to fill a space that comes free.

I think she might well have a few good years left in her yet,

a bit more time to express her strongly-held views.

No, not married.

No, not married.

Why? Look at this.

Oh, me? No, no.

No, no. Just me. Just me and my family.

Oh, there's sadness there. Angry.

Sometimes, it's not... Not everybody can have children.

I will have my friends.

I love my friends!

That might be a longer wait than you think.

But also I will have a selection of very, very lovely young nieces.

OK. So, I need to get a husband and lots of children.

How did you know about Anna?

-Yes, absolutely.

-Anna.

-Anna.

If I was the owner, I wouldn't be booking out her room any time soon.

She's got years left.

Plenty of time to visit that tattoo parlour

and get that full sleeve she's always wanted.

I just loved meeting Grandma.

Grandma is wise and strong and feisty and funny,

and, quite frankly, more inked than your average boyband member.

But what I learned from her is that belief shapes a landscape,

so, for, you know, a tourist like me -

a nonbeliever looking from the outside in -

Varanasi is smelly and dirty and bewildering.

But to her, on the inside, as a believer,

this place is the gateway to paradise.

The longer you spend in Varanasi,

the more it feels like a relic of old India,

trapped in a time before globalisation

and India's economic miracle.

Varanasi lies in one of the most conservative parts of India,

and its social attitudes are increasingly out of step

with the modern world...

..particularly when it comes to women.

But, thankfully, change is on its way.

Good morning! Morning, everyone. Namaste. Nice to see you.

Sue. Nice to see you.

These students, from the renowned Banaras University,

are using their free time to try and empower women

from the rural villages outside the city.

I can feel the energy. You're just a young, energetic group.

That has got my name on it, I think.

I am VERY happy to be leaving the city.

That's feeling good.

Not so sure about the mode of transport.

Right, I want you to know that when you start going fast,

I'm going to grip. I'm going to really grip.

You're going to feel it. Just round here, you're going to feel it.

Going to come in like a lobster.

Ooh!

Whee!

A 15km drive out of town,

and you enter a very different world.

Two-thirds of Indians live in the countryside,

but it's not always the rural idyll you might expect.

In rural India, girls are often married very young

and have little education.

In some areas, women rarely leave their houses

and are expected to be silent and submissive.

Men are increasingly becoming addicted to drink and drugs,

often leading to physical violence.

But these students don't want rural India to be left behind,

and six months ago, they started working

with the women of Deura village.

Ah! That's what you need in this heat - a full-face mask.

Thank you.

I'm meeting a group of local women who are known as the Green Gang,

a sort of village vigilante group.

Thanks to the students, these women are learning self-defence classes,

taking lessons in literacy and public speaking.

I'm coming to get you.

It's a little bit different to your average knitting circle.

When women come out of the shadows, the whole world gets brighter.

Oh!

One of the biggest issues facing these women

is something so basic it probably would never occur to you or me.

They don't have any toilets.

So, it's dangerous. It's dangerous.

And you have snakes in the water?

So, you go in the open sky and...

SHE BUZZES LIKE A FLY Insects, and there's...

SHE SPEAKS OWN LANGUAGE

Scorpion?

Oh, no! This one?

So, you go for a wee and...?

I understand. Chalo, chalo. Chalo, chalo. We have toilet business.

You show the way, darling.

Scorpions are not the only problem.

Women all over rural India

are forced to go to the toilet in the open,

and it has led to an epidemic of sexual violence.

By coming together in their green saris,

these women are hoping to force change.

Today, the village representative is being held to account.

How can India have a space programme and no toilets?

This is like one country, two worlds.

We come here and the people are just...

People are really craving some basic necessities of life,

like toilets, like... It's just beyond imagination.

It is beyond imagination

that you have to go to a village head and beg for a toilet.

-Exactly.

-And then he has to go and beg to the government.

It's slow work, but these women tell me

they didn't even dare to speak out when the students first arrived.

It's good to see them coming together,

but it's not until you see where they live that you understand truly what they're dealing with.

-This is the house?

-This, this.

-So, that's...?

-Do you call it a house?

-I thought this was the house.

-No, this is where she lives.

I just walked towards this brick building thinking,

-"Oh, everyone in this village lives in a solid structure, however modest."

-Yes.

-And...that's her house.

-Yeah.

This is where they keep the cattle, and this is where they live.

I think they sleep kind of there.

And how many people will these ladies cook for in the family?

-SHE SPEAKS OWN LANGUAGE

-Five.

-Five people.

-Five every day?

So, they get paid for the work they do.

Do ever have cash? Do you ever see cash or come cross it?

Or it just doesn't exist in your life?

So, this green sari is like your armour?

Green saris empower.

Imagine waking up first thing in the morning,

bursting to go to the loo and knowing that you have to hold it in

because you're too ashamed and too frightened to go.

Imagine holding it in all day in 47-degree heat,

and then, at night, when you're allowed to come out,

in the shadows, you have to walk through this field of crops

frightened that a cobra will bite you,

that a scorpion will bite you,

that the diseases that lurk in the murk will get you,

or that a human predator will take you out

when you're crouching to do the most intimate

and mundane of bodily functions.

And now go into your bathroom,

switch on the light and look at that toilet,

and just say a thank you to whatever God you believe in.

-Namaste! CHILDREN:

-Namaste!

-All OK!

-All OK!

-All is good!

-All is good!

-In this hood!

-In this hood!

-We will get!

-We will get!

-A toilet!

-A toilet!

-SHE LAUGHS All is good!

-All is good!

In the hood!

I can only hope that what these women are doing today

will create a better world for future generations.

After the tranquillity of the countryside,

the traffic-crazed streets of Varanasi

deliver a huge shock to the system.

There is nothing serene about this place.

Varanasi is intense and extraordinary.

CHEERING

Yeah!

Yes, you're all very fit. Yes, you are.

Yes.

I think, when you were little, you were very naughty.

You have a naughty look in your eye. THEY LAUGH

Everything is stripped bare and out in the open here,

whether it's death...

..or dentistry.

If the clean, clinical, sanitised environment

of a dentist isn't your thing, then...

..well, just get your dentures done in a gutter.

The chaos can be hugely fun and there's no doubting its charms,

but there are downsides.

I've been here for over a week and I've got Varanasi overload.

The funeral pyres burn day and night and the smell is overpowering.

It is truly the most unrelenting place I have ever been.

Careful, that's a lot of shit here.

SCUFFLING Ooh!

I'm not sure a late-night stroll around the dark alleyways

was a very good idea.

Sorry, I just slipped.

My arm is agony.

This is not a city for the faint-hearted,

but not for the reasons that you think.

I'm not frightened of death,

I'm not frightened to see the bodies burning,

but it's the chaos and the stink

and the fact that you feel such a small, vulnerable little ant

in the sea of humanity that's constantly around you.

And the fact that I just fell over and I really badly scuffed my legs,

and I scuffed my elbow and I fell in poo,

and I know what kind of poo it was.

It was human poo, and now I want to cry and I need my mum,

but I can't cos I've got to be strong

and pretend that I'm in control of this place.

And that's the biggest mistake you can make

cos Varanasi is always in control of you.

I just need to get to a place which is clean.

The poo-stained streets and the never-ending smell

exposes a contradiction that lies at the heart of Varanasi.

On one hand, it's seen by millions as the spiritual heart of India.

Yet, on the other,

it's home to one of the most polluted stretches of river

in the entire world.

Upstream, the waters of the Ganges

are siphoned off for agriculture and industry

and are used as a dumping ground for more types of waste

than you can imagine.

It's no way to treat a river,

let alone a river that's also a goddess.

With my hand bandaged and face mask at the ready,

it's time to confront the dirty truth about the Ganges.

As a nun once famously sang,

how do you solve a problem like Ma Ganga?

Well, the man I'm about to meet,

both a high priest and a professor, may have the answer.

-Namaste, Professor Mishra.

-Namaste, Susie.

Namaste. Namaste. Nice to see you. I'm Sue.

-Welcome.

-Very good to meet you. Thank you so much.

I see your vessel is ready. Is it this one we're going on?

We'll be going on this vessel.

Ah, OK. Here we go. Right...

Professor Mishra is one of Varanasi's most revered

and eminent citizens.

He's the professor of hydraulic engineering at the university

and has dedicated his life to trying to clean up the Ganges.

But he's also a high priest

at one of Varanasi's most important temples,

so he's uniquely qualified to help me understand the paradox

at the heart of this great river.

So, Professor, to the untrained eye, this is a seriously dirty river.

Because you study it, you see the day-to-day.

What's the main problem with the Ganges at this point?

Actually, the main problem with the Ganges is

it is now being used as a channel

for disposal of raw sewage into the river.

So, just like one enormous toilet, the river is being used...?

Definitely. Definitely.

Raw sewage is just coming out. You can just see it.

I have to say, as you said that, I just got this sickening waft.

I hope you don't mind and think me impolite,

but my Western nostrils are not as hardy as yours.

We are actually used to this.

-Yeah, I don't know how you can bear it.

-We can bear it.

-I mean, I literally want to be sick.

-Only for the sake of Ganga,

we are bearing this.

-So, this is pure, raw sewage?

-Yeah.

I can see a family bathing there. I mean, right...

You know, I mean, just 100 yards.

How is that possible?

Every day, Professor Mishra's researchers

take water samples from the Ganges in Varanasi.

The results are enough to make your eyes water.

The safe level for faecal coliform bacteria -

that's poo to you and me -

is about 500 units per millilitre.

Here, it's 4.2 million.

The dissolved oxygen levels are so low in places

that the river is now biologically dead.

Add to that bodies, pesticides and medical waste,

and you can see that the Ganges is in crisis.

At present, we have 33 points

which are disposing sewage to the tune of 300

to 350 million litres per day into the river.

-Million litres?

-Yeah. And there are 33 such points.

Sorry, each...? So, it's 33 points, and each point...?

-This cumulative total...

-300 million litres?

300 million litres per day is being disposed of into the river.

Professor Mishra was one of the first

to highlight the pollution of the Ganges.

He has seen action plans and initiatives come and go,

and the pollution getting worse and worse.

But no matter how polluted the river is,

people still believe it is spiritually cleansing.

Do you think there is any conflict

between the part of you that is religious

and the part of you that is a scientist when it comes to Ganga?

I still take my bath, and if I am in Banaras,

I am bound to take a bath.

And if I don't take a bath, something... I am very disturbed.

Something, I am missing.

So, this type of connection, I have with Ganga-ji. And not me.

There are so many other people.

I can't bear to think.

These kids, they're swimming upstream towards raw sewage,

so I'm sorry to interrupt you, but it is just...

When you know the facts that you've just told me,

it makes it very hard to...

I mean, before I met you, I would think,

"That's a dirty river. Fine." But now it's horrific.

-Because these are innocents.

-Definitely, definitely.

So, we are just successively killing our population.

-This is very bad.

-It is very bad.

Especially when it's such a young population.

-The youngest population in the world.

-Young population.

-They are our future.

-Yeah.

And in the future, what are we going to provide them?

This polluted river.

For devout Hindus, the physical condition of the water

is entirely separate from the metaphysical power it holds.

It's filthy, but it will wash you clean of sin.

She's an immortal goddess, so can't be killed...

..but I wonder how much more pollution she can tolerate.

Namaste.

I've been here for two weeks now,

and quite frankly, I can't take it any more.

Oh!

Come to Varanasi for the holiday of a lifetime.

My time in Varanasi is nearly over.

It's an extraordinary place,

but definitely what we travellers call challenging.

To be honest, I've been putting this bit off.

However, a stay in Varanasi wouldn't be complete

without a visit to the cremation grounds.

This is Manikarnika Ghat,

the most prestigious funeral pyre of them all.

It is not of this earth, this place.

Here, bodies are burned on open fires

so their souls can be released into a different realm.

It's a far cry from the sendoffs us Westerners are used to.

The cremation grounds are run by keepers of sacred flames

who are known as doms,

and are part of the Dalit caste, formerly known as the untouchables.

I'm here to meet Yamuna Devi,

the only female dom working in Varanasi.

Namaste. How are you?

Yes, because I'm totally silly.

So, I fell on a ghat and smashed my hand and my elbow.

So, can you take me through the process?

So, the bodies come, and they're beautifully wrapped.

Mourners being so close to the burning body

might seem macabre to Western eyes,

but it helps the family confront their loss.

Do you see a difference between the mourners

when they arrive and when they leave?

Has it sort of helped their grief in some way

to watch this process close up?

At home, when we burn somebody, we put them in a nice box

with brass handles, and the curtain shuts,

and off they go on this weird final Generation Game conveyor belt.

You don't see the body,

and so there's this gap in your understanding.

Sort of your grief is paused cos all you want to do is get to them,

and see the "hows" and the "whys" and the total disintegration,

so that you can comprehend they are gone.

But here, the corpse comes down beautifully shrouded,

goes on the pyre, which is lit. The relatives walk round.

As the body's burning, it's hit on the head

to release its moorings,

to release that person's moorings from their family.

When it's done, the ashes are sieved for gold

for last traces of material possessions.

And then, finally, the ashes are delivered into the water...

..and everyone is free.

BELL CHIMES

Trying to work out how I feel about Varanasi is like

trying to breast-feed a Jelly Baby.

It's a pointless exercise because the city is confusing

and you change your mind about it at every turn.

It's like walking a tightrope between optimism and despair,

between filth and beauty,

between excellence and maddening, maddening inefficiency.

And so all I can say is, if you want the ultimate workout for your mind,

your body and your soul, then come here, just with an open heart,

and lots of changes of underwear.

And waders. And, well, a mask.

A really good mask would be good. And full-spectrum antibiotics.

Bandages would be helpful, I suppose.

And a really good cap. And an umbrella.

Erm, antibacterial hand sanitiser. Feminine wipes.

And fly spray. Lots of fly spray.

Just let me just... SHE BLOWS RASPBERRY

spread out a bit.

Next time, I'm on the final stretch of the river...

..where a new India is being built before my very eyes...

This is Trumpian in its bling-tastic-ness.

I tell you, it's not a trip for the bra-less, this. Ooh!

..and I join millions of pilgrims

as they worship the Ganges where she finally flows into the sea.

Happy dipping. WOMAN LAUGHS

I feel I should know your name. I've seen your winkie.

But there you go. Thank you so much. Thank you.