Hope in Setting Sun

Ganga aarti - the worship of Mother Ganga. In one of the holiest cities of Hinduism, and one of the oldest still inhabited cities of the whole world, in The City of Life: Kashi (Benares/Varanasi); Every evening after sunset young Brahmins gather on the river bank to perform their ancient rituals. Rituals that link us back to the spirit of Nature, that personify the eternal flow of the river, and transform it into the hope for the past, the present, and the future generations. The archetypal ritual elements of fire, holy water, flowers, smoke, movements, mesmerising chanting, all serve but one reason: to unveil our common root with the embracing universe, and lead us beyond reasoning. And, in spite all the commercialisation of modern age, in the grace of the Brahmins' movements there it lays indeed the hidden wisdom of those distant times shading into myths. Sense it. Feel it. And through the rituals go back to the past, and through the past reach the full awareness of the present moment. The awareness of your very existence.

Hope in Rising Sun

Chhat Puja - a worship dedicated to one of the most ancient Gods of Hinduism, Lord Surya, the Sun-God. People, like this lady, might travel across the continent-size country to reach at least once the holy bank of river Ganga. To bath in the water that eradicates all past sins, and perform the ritual to fulfill secret wishes. Is it silly..? She has been preparing for the great ceremony; she has been fasting for three days. No food, and no water. Then, she came to here, way before sunrise, to lit a candle, sit, and pray. Only God knows what is in her mind right now; what memories,-painful and happy alike- might have arisen. Clearly, she is withdrawn. She is in her own world now, in the world of her sins that she wants to undress today, or of wishes she wants to accomplish. ...

...and in the moment when the sun, Lord Surya Himself, appears above the dawn mist of the river, people jump up, hands straight towards Him, and welcome Surya with a shout that rises in one single moment from thousands of tongues. Then, those participating the ceremony marsh towards the cold water of Ganga. The long await is over. The last torture of coldness, and the hope of a new day gives a hope of a new life. Maybe without the old sins... I hope she made it; a restart.