The infamous Taj and burning ghats on the banks of the Ganges at Varanasi

So, I can leave India a happy woman. Have you seen French Kiss, with Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline? You know how she is in Paris, trying to get a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, and she keeps missing it but semi-seconds? Well, that was me. Buzzing around on rickshaws, I'd see a white building out of the corner of my eye, and by the time I'd turn, it would be gobbled up by a horrifically ugly building. The thing is as gorgeous as you'd imagine a building built in the name of love would be, if not more. Everyone says from close up its not really white, but I do not speak from experience. Admission for tourists is 750 rupees ( ten for locals), which is a total atrocity. The local joke is that ten rupees goes to the restoration of the monument, and the remaining 740 goes to new mercedes for the prime minister. The admission just gets you into the gates for that famous view up the water, and into a tomb, where you can't take any pictures. I couldn't rationalize this. So, me being a poor bastard, I went to the park on the other side of the river and took some equally beautiful and much cheaper pictures. That is basically all to report about Agra, which is kind of a dump. I was only there for one day, took a night bus in and a night train out to Varanasi, where people go to die. This is actually a good thing. This morning, I was ushered to the burning ghats. If a hindu dies in Varanasi, they are guaranteed into heaven. This means the city is filled with hospices that overlook the burning ghats (kind of depressing, if you ask me), and crawling with old people, like Florida. So, the Ganges, or Ganga as its called in Hindu, is a holy river, and numerous bodies are burned on its banks each day. Upwards of fifty, I gather. The deceased is indicated by the location of the burning, the color of the cloth, and what ends up in the river after the ceremony. Pregnant women, children, and holy men are not burned at all, if I understand this correctly. Men's chests and women's hips ( the fattiest part of us), are dumped into the Ganga after the rest of the body is burned. There were about ten burnings happening while I was there, and the mood was, not jovial, but not sombre. There was a chai stand very close by ( a little too, close for my liking) and people were moving constantly, unlike funerals in the states, where there is a lot of standing. Someone brought me up to a hospice that overlooks the procession, making me promise not to take any pictures. I saw the remains of a man who had been burning for hours. A woman was being brought down from above to be placed on her pile of wood, and a group of men were piling wood on top of another body still. The smoke from all of the fire burned my eyes, and I was kinda creeped out at the fact that the smoke were the bodies remains. My Irish friend who has been to Varanasi before tells me that last time he saw a hand floating in the river. Im going for a sunrise boat ride on the Ganga tommorow morning, looking out for its famous dolphins ( how anything lives in that cesspool is beyond me). The ghats are the center of life in Varanasi. Buffalo swim in it, boys splash in it, men bathe in it, women wash clothes in it, it is where the sewers run, and everyone seems to drink from it. Ill let you know if I see any body parts floating. Im off to Nepal in the next few days, but I dont really feel like Im leaving India. Strange.