India, Varanasi

India, Varanasi. It is the greatest honour for a Hindu that the ashes of his corpse are dispersed into the Ganges. An old Hindu is standing early morning on the riverside, at the crematory gate Manikarnik. They are all sipping, sprinkling the Ganges. They are washing their teeth, the laundry and - according to their ancient faith - even their sins. Some do so every day, while others only once in a lifetime. A bare-boned army is hanging around at the slope of the gate. They are awating their death holding out their hands - some rupees might come for their cremation. Just 10 rupees, please - a beggar is pushing his hand wrapped in rags to my side. I don't even know for life or for death. For lentils or for wood.