The Value of a Human Soul

I want to give a forewarning before I continue on with this post, there are some graphic descriptions that might be a bummer. If you’re looking to read a feel good post I suggest not reading on from this point forward.

I’ve been in the Himalayas for almost two months now, and the things I’ve witnessed and been apart of have been both incredible and sobering. A week ago we visited The Pashupatinath Temple, also known as the temple of death. This temple is a sacred Hindu site considered to be the fourth most important religious sites in Asia for the followers of Shiva. Though a place of worship, The Pashupatinath Temple also serves as a cremation site where the last rituals for practicing Hindus are performed. Going into this I was quite naïve to what we would actually be encountering. All of it was far more surreal than, I believe, any of us were expecting.

We were met with the cold weight of death in the air as we arrived at the temple. In the distance you could see a body being burned and the charred ashes of many other like it scattered around the river's edge. No less than 10 minutes after our arrival did we witness our first body being brought in for the ceremonial burning. A young girl at the age of 25, with her family still in one of the surrounding villages unaware of their daughter's death, was carried in on a gurney ready to proceed with the tradition that follows after a practicing Hindu passes away. The girl was a school teacher. She had committed suicide. Watching as the girl was carried in the sound of a woman in despair loudly weeping ringed throughout the entire temple. I don’t believe I’ll be able to get the sound of her cries out of my head anytime soon. A large crowd accompanying her consisting of mostly family and friends with the few audacious tourists looked curiously as they sat the lifeless girl down and proceeded with the customs before the last ritual was executed. They sprinkle the girl with “holy ash”, lifted prayers to their gods, then brought her down to the polluted water, she soon would be burned and thrown into, and washed her feet. Throughout this whole ritual many tourist and spectators looked on fascinated by the custom in front of them. I was shocked. So many were taking photos and videos of the lifeless girl as though it was all done for their entertainment. Anger mixed with sadness settled over me. The religion that was supposed to give life and purpose had done the opposite for this girl. Instead of the inner peace promised by Hinduism she had become hopeless and purposeless choosing to end her life because of the gaping void that couldn’t be filled by her faith. The same religion promise to give life gave only death, and even then in that moment, instead of being honored, the same faith that failed her was encompassing the last moments this girl would be spending on this earth. I was struck with the reality of, if this girl had a chance to speak, would be pleading not to be buried the way she had been. I could almost see her from the depths of hell in agony screaming for them to stop desperately trying to tell them the truth. The act that she hoped would release her of the pain she was in only sent her to a place where the pain was far worse.

As the cleansing and ritual before the burning was complete the men holding the gurney carried the girl over to the other side to be burned. We decided to get closer in hopes to find her mother so we could asked to pray. We got very close. As our Nepali friends search to find her mother I watched as they stacked wood around her body. At this point I was desperately praying for God to give us an open door. The weight of it all was almost crushing. The hope, if not already gone, was almost completely gone for this girl. My prayers turn into silent pleads and cries as they circled the girl ready to set the cloth wrapped around her on fire. Then it happened. It was like everything became silent for me. They took the torch and held it close to the cloth until the fabric caught flame. She was gone. Our friends told us the mother wasn’t there and our hope to pray would have been most likely impossible.

It’s easy to deny the reality a person faces after death, chalking it up to weak faith and lies you tell yourself to feel better, but until you see a human body being burned with no hope of coming back do you realize you only have two possible outcomes at the end of your life, death or life. This girl is now facing an eternity in death and agony, something now if she could change she would. I sit here now still processing it all and with the weight of life significantly more real than ever before. It’s been a week since this girl has been in hell, but to her it probably already feels like an eternity.

We cannot take for granted the weight of a human soul. It still troubles me the last way this girl was honored was the most dishonorable way possible. If she could change it all she would. She would beg them to stop. She would tell them of the lies they’re living in. Really, she would choose not to have killed her self. She now knows the value of human soul, but for her it is too late.

We have the choice to take the full significance of life while we still have it. And even more importantly, we have a chance to tell others of it. I don’t want to think about the reality that she isn’t the first and certainly will not be the last. It hurts too much. A week ago I learn the weight of a human soul, and today I choose not to take it for granted. I pray you do the same.