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Cleaning up the spirit of Varanasi

Every evening, as the ghats of Varanasi start to reverberate with sounds of conch shells and holy chants, Temsutula Imsong embarks on a mission armed with a broom and bucket to purge the holy city of its filth

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Prabhu Ghat Varanasi

Prabhu Ghat Varanasi

Every evening, the Dasaswamedh Ghat at Varanasi gears up in piety. Pundits in billowing saffron robes prepare to take stage. The conch shell reverberates as the sun goes down and incense sticks are waved with a flourish. Tourists with folded hands pray from balconies of homes around the ghat (they pay a fee to the residents who live near the ghat).

Far in the distance, at Prabhu Ghat, at the same time every evening, Temsutula Imsong secures a mask around her face, picks up a broom and a bucket, and steps into swathes of filth. Withered marigolds offered by pilgrims squelch under her feet. She sidesteps the piss, the sh*t.

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