The Ganges River and the Question of Right and Wrong

That afternoon, standing on the bank of the Ganges River, the young Vietnamese woman felt a chill run through her whole body. The sacred river that so many Indians worship appeared before her eyes not as a poetic ribbon of emerald silk, but as a murky current drifting sluggishly along. On the far bank lay heaps of ashes and scattered scraps of white cloth. Right at her feet, a bloated human corpse floated past, swollen with decay, bobbing close to the shore. A thick stench of rot rose up, making her gag as her stomach cramped in waves.

She was a Vietnamese Buddhist who had traveled to India with a pilgrimage group to visit the sacred sites. Her first impression of this land was not of ancient temples, but of the harshness of daily life and the strangeness of its customs. She had heard about the beliefs surrounding the Ganges, how the people trust absolutely that a single bath in and drink of this river's water will wash away all their sins, and that when they die, they will be reborn in heavenly realms. Many elderly people, before closing their eyes for the last time, instruct their children and grandchildren to cremate their bodies and scatter the ashes into the river; some even have their bodies thrown into it whole. For these people, this bank belongs to the gods, and the other bank belongs to hell. Anyone who happens to cross over and touch that water will die and become a donkey.

While she was lost in these thoughts, she was startled to hear the voice of the woman who ran her lodging behind her:

"My child, I need to ask you a favor. Could you fetch a bottle of Ganges water for me to keep on my altar?"

The old woman handed her a small glass bottle, her eyes full of earnest pleading. She took the bottle and looked down at the swirling water. The corpse was still there, rising and sinking with the waves, its skin pale and taut. She stood frozen, unable to bring her feet toward the water. Her heart pounded, and her throat tightened. A voice rang out in her mind: "How could anyone scoop up this water to drink, or place it upon an altar?"

She turned to the old woman and tried to explain:

"Grandmother, there is... a dead body in the river. The water is so dirty. How could anyone drink it?"

The old woman looked at her with surprise, then replied calmly:

"My child, that is perfectly normal. The Ganges is a sacred river, and its water is holy. Bathe in it and your sins are washed away; drink it and you receive blessings from merit. What is there to fear?"

She stood still, not knowing what to say. She looked at the old woman, at the river, at the floating corpse. In that moment, she suddenly understood something: the notions of right and wrong held by each person, each people, truly differ that much. To her, drinking water that carried a human corpse was repulsive and utterly unacceptable. But to the old woman, it was a sacred ritual and the faith of an entire lifetime. She could not say the old woman was wrong, yet she could not say she herself was right. All she could do was stand there in silence, feeling the fragility of every judgment.

In the end, she bowed her head, gently set the bottle down on the bank, and quietly turned away. She could not do as the old woman asked, but neither did she have the right to judge their faith. All she knew was that, from that moment on, she understood more deeply the truth in the Buddha's teachings: do not rush to conclude what is right and wrong, for truth often lies beyond the reach of our understanding. She walked away, leaving behind the Ganges with its mysteries and its own faith, carrying in her heart a great lesson about tolerance.

The Meaning of the Story

This story shows that judging right and wrong based on traditional views and social customs is extremely fragile and subjective. Each culture has its own standards, and we cannot impose our own perspective upon others. Therefore, in life, we need to learn tolerance, to look at matters from many angles, and to avoid rushing to conclusions, so that we do not fall into error through prejudice and the narrow limits of our understanding.

Compiled from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thích Chân Quang