The Ganges River — Ganga in Hindi — is the lifeblood of more than 600 million people in India and Bangladesh.
Farmers depend on the river for their crops. Millions depend on its water for washing, cooking, drinking and to carry away their waste. And many worship the Ganges as a goddess, whose waters will cleanse them of sin and help them attain moksha, or salvation, by carrying their ashes to heaven.
Yet the Ganges is under great threat from pollution and a rapidly modernizing India, whose appetite for water far outstrips the river's capacity.
In the first of a six-part series, independent producer Julian Crandall Hollick travels deep into the Himalayas in search of the source of the Ganges. His journey begins in the tiny village of Bhaironghati, where villagers take a two-foot high statue of the goddess Ganga and prepare to take her to her summer temple at Gangotri. That's where, Hindus believe, the river came down to Earth in a lock of hair.
As the ceremony to install the goddess gets under way in Gangotri, Hollick hears the story about how Hindus believe the Ganges descended from heaven
Pollution, Indifference Taint India's Sacred River
A woman with a skin disease rests near offerings and trash on the banks of the Ganges in Kanpur, India.
The Indian city of Kanpur is an anomaly — an industrial city that lies on the banks of a river that is revered as a goddess.
Established in 1801 by the British to supply their army in India, Kanpur is the largest city in the state of Uttar Pradesh, and it sits on the higher, southern bank of the Ganges River.
But Kanpur's burgeoning industry pours pollution into the sacred river, making it dirty, unappetizing and synonymous with pollution in residents' eyes. Twenty years ago, the Indian government began a massive program to clean up the river, but for many, Kanpur is proof that those efforts failed.
In 1986, Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi announced a massive Ganga Action Plan to clean up the river. The basic idea made sense: Intercept and treat pollution before it is discharged into the Ganges. Politicians and engineers in Delhi designed sewage treatment plants, but they then expected states and cities to find the money to operate and maintain them.
Myriad problems — from inconsistent electricity to indifferent local authorities and residents — stunted the plan. Today, the Ganges at Kanpur is besieged by pollution, including toxic chromium, from local tanneries.
The local sewage treatment plant sits idle, and residents suffer from various skin ailments, among other health problems. In the nearby village of Motipur, farm harvests have plunged, and livestock like buffaloes produce half their normal yield of milk.
Ganges' Most Sacred Stretch Rich with Tradition
An evening offering on the banks of the river Ganges in the village of Singhberpur.
For millions of Hindus, the 250-mile stretch of Ganges River between the cities of Kanpur and Varanasi is one of the most sacred parts of the northern plains of India.
This stretch of the Ganges serves as the setting of the great epic The Ramayana, which tells the story of an Indian prince who becomes a god. Despite the river's massive pollution, Hindus come from all over the country to bathe, worship and honor dead relatives in the holy waters.
In the third of a six-part series, independent producer Julian Crandall Hollick visits villages along the Ganges to learn about Hindu traditions. In the village of Singhberpur, Hollick takes a dip in the water, a ritual that his host says will cleanse him of his sins. In The Ramayana, Singhberpur is featured as the place where the epic's central characters — Ram, Sita and Laxman — cross the Ganges on their way into exile.
At the city of Allahabad, midway between Kanpur and Varanasi, the Ganges merges with the Yamuna River and the mythical Saraswati. Together they form the Sangam. Hindus believe that if they take a dip in the Sangam or cast the ashes of dead relatives into the water, their next life can only be better.
Varanasi, at the end of this portion of Hollick's journey, is where all the Hindu gods live. Much of daily life in Varanasi takes place on its 84 ghats — stone steps that descend steeply down to the river and stretch two miles northward in a gentle crescent.
Hollick speaks with a civil servant and a tailor who have come to wash away their sins and seek salvation. He also finds locals who seek more immediate blessings — success in exams, better health and help kicking addiction.
Mystery Factor Gives Ganges a Clean Reputation
A man gathers water from the Ganges River at Har-ki-pairi ghat in Haridwar.
Hindus have always believed that water from India's Ganges River has extraordinary powers. The Indian emperor Akbar called it the "water of immortality" and always traveled with a supply. The British East India Co. used only Ganges water on its ships during the three-month journey back to England, because it stayed "sweet and fresh."
Indians have always claimed it prevents diseases, but are the claims wives' tales or do they have scientific substance?
In the fourth installment of a six-part series, independent producer Julian Crandall Hollick searched for the "mysterious X factor" that gives Ganges water its mythical reputation.
He starts his investigation looking for the water's special properties at the river's source in the Himalayas. There, wild plants, radioactive rocks, and unusually cold, fast-running water combine to form the river. But since 1854, almost all of the Ganges' water has been siphoned off for irrigation as it leaves the Himalayas.
Hollick speaks with DS Bhargava, a retired professor of hydrology, who has spent a lifetime performing experiments up and down Ganges in the plains of India. In most rivers, Bhargava says, organic material usually exhausts a river's available oxygen and starts putrefying. But in the Ganges, an unknown substance, or "X factor" that Indians refer to as a "disinfectant," acts on organic materials and bacteria and kills them. Bhargava says that the Ganges' self-purifying quality leads to oxygen levels 25 times higher than any other river in the world.
Hollick's search for a scientific explanation for the X factor leads him to a spiritual leader at an ashram and a biologist in Kanpur. But his best answer for the Ganges' mysterious substance comes from Jay Ramachandran, a molecular biologist and entrepreneur in Bangalore.
In a short science lesson, Ramachandran explains why the Ganges doesn't spread disease among the millions of Indians who bathe in it. But he can't explain why the river alone has this extraordinary ability to retain oxygen.
Ganges Dam Leaves Devastating Legacy
A villager gazes at where Panchanandapur village stood.
In 1970, the Indian government built a huge dam called the Farakka Barrage, on the border with Bangladesh, to control the flow of the Ganges River.
But the gated dam has had widespread and devastating effects, both in the Indian state of West Bengal and neighboring Bangladesh.
In the fifth installment of a six-part series, independent producer Julian Crandall Hollick travels to a village in West Bengal to see how the dam has affected life and livelihoods on the Ganges.
Hollick starts his journey in Panchanandapur, a village that — on a map — appears to lie well inland from the Ganges. When he arrives at Panchanandapur however, Hollick finds the village's 5,000 residents living precariously on the banks of the river.
Kalyan Rudra, a geography professor in Calcutta, explains that the dam forced the Ganges to shift almost six miles eastward over 30 years, eroding most of the village. An indigo factory, sugar mill, hospital, police station and two-story government building were all swallowed by the river, among other settlements.
The Ganges' fast shift, however, made land that was once underwater reappear on the other side of the river bank. Though the villagers consider themselves part of West Bengal, the shift in geography has opened a territory question; neither West Bengal nor Bangladesh recognizes the displaced villagers.
At the dam itself, Hollick explores the history and legacy of the controversial project. The Farakka barrage was built at the narrowest point on the Ganges to divert water to Calcutta to the south and flush out the silt that was clogging up its port. But scientists say the project was ill-conceived from the start: Water upstream from the dam carried massive amounts of silt, dropping it directly behind the dam.
The buildup — almost 700 million tons annually — has clogged the dam's gates and raised the river bed more than 20 feet. The silt buildup has also forced the river to change its course, swallowing villages and buildings.
Months after his visit to Panchanandapur, Hollick returns to the village to find it completely swept away. Tajaml Huq, a village farmer, said he was asleep in his home when someone cried that the erosion had started. Moments later, his home disappeared into the river.
Where Ganges Ends, Island Teems With Pilgrims
A couple rests on the beach before Makar Sankranti — the day Indians take a holy dip in the Ganges River.
Kavars, or devotees of Shiva, bicycle on the beach at Sagar Island on the eve of Makar Sankranti.
Every January 14, millions of Indians make their way to Sagar Island for a great bathing festival to celebrate the sun entering Capricorn.
The island — where the Ganges River flows into the Bay of Bengal — turns into the Indian version of Woodstock during the celebration. There are no age restrictions, no tickets and no invitations, and celebrants get there any way they can — by train, bus or on foot.
At the end of his 1,500-mile journey down the Ganges, independent producer Julian Crandall Hollick visited the island to witness Makar Sankranti — the great day when the island's visitors take a holy dip.
Makar Sankranti comes from Hindus' belief that the Ganges descended from heaven. Hindus believe that 60,000 sons of King Sagar disturbed a hermit while he was meditating. The hermit reduced the men to ashes, but King Sagar's grandson begged the gods to send down the Ganges to bring the men back to life.
The Ganges came down from the Himalayas to Sagar Island, where it washed over the ashes and liberated the men's souls so they could go to heaven. The millions of pilgrims who come to Sagar Island each year celebrate the release of the men's souls, and they take a dip in the water to seek their own mukti, or freedom.