I’ve always been drawn to the body’s rawness- its decay, its grotesque truths, the way death strips it of pretensions. There’s something potent in what we shy away from, in how fragility and transformation expose the limits of what we call beauty or acceptability. The body in decline forces us to see differently, to confront life, death, and identity in ways we rarely dare to. This fascination has led me to some of the most intense spiritual practices I’ve encountered during my time in India, particularly with the Aghori sadhus and Naga babas. These ascetics, who often live near cremation sites, engage deeply with the themes of life, death, and the pursuit of moksha (liberation).

During my travels, I had the rare opportunity to sit with an Aghori sadhu and several Naga babas. These figures, often reclusive and hesitant to interact with outsiders, welcomed me with a strange resonance- perhaps it was my long dreadlocks that seemed to connect us.

What unfolded during my time in Varanasi, and later at the Kumbh Mela in Prayagraj, was surreal. People gathered in crowds around me, bowing, chanting "Har Har Mahadev" (Hail Lord Shiva, the Great God) and offering money. They seemed to perceive something in me- a spiritual energy I was told, linked to Lord Shiva, as they associated long dreadlocks (jata) with a connection to this deity. For them, touching the feet of someone with jata was a sacred act, meant to receive blessings and accumulate spiritual merit. While it was overwhelming, it also made me reflect on how our appearance and energy can impact the way we are perceived in spiritual spaces.

The Aghori Path: Transcending Attachments Through Death

The word "Aghori" comes from the Sanskrit word "Aghora," which means "not terrifying" or "beyond fear." In essence, an Aghori is one who sees no fear, no distinctions, only the absolute divine in everything. Aghori sadhus follow a path that involves confronting the most uncomfortable aspects of life and death. Living in cremation grounds, they meditate on death and decay in order to detach from worldly attachments. Their goal is moksha, liberation from the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. To achieve this, they must engage with what society deems taboo, particularly the most visceral aspects of human existence- death.

Among the many rituals practised by the Aghoris, their use of human skulls as bowls for eating stands out as a powerful rejection of conventional norms. Contrary to what many outsiders might assume, this isn't done to provoke or shock—it's a deliberate act of defiance against societal distinctions between purity and impurity. By using skulls in this way, Aghoris aim to dissolve their sense of ego, embracing the raw, unfiltered reality of existence. To them, the human body is temporary—a form destined to decay, regardless of the reverence or significance society attaches to it. Holding a skull in their hands, they see not a grotesque relic but a symbol of life's impermanence, a reminder that all forms are transient.

Aghoris meditate near dead bodies, often sitting close to cremation pyres or even beside decomposing corpses. It might seem unsettling, but for them, it's not about fascination with death—it's a way to confront mortality head-on. By being near death, they aim to strip away the fear and attachment tied to the body, seeing it as a temporary shell that will inevitably decay. They believe that true spiritual freedom requires accepting this impermanence rather than resisting it.

Ritual Cannibalism: Breaking Taboos and Dissolving Ego

Among the most misunderstood and controversial practices of the Aghoris is their consumption of human remains. For many, this act is unfathomable—an unsettling violation of norms. However, for the Aghoris, it is not driven by grotesque fascination or a desire to shock. Instead, it is a deeply spiritual practice aimed at dismantling the rigid boundaries of purity and impurity that society clings to. The flesh of the dead, often retrieved from the Ganges or abandoned bodies, becomes a medium for rejecting dualities that separate the sacred from the profane.

To the Aghoris, consuming human flesh is a radical statement against these constructs. It serves as a way to dissolve the ego and confront the impermanence of the physical form. By crossing this taboo boundary, they sever attachment to the body, viewing it as a vessel—temporary, decaying, and no more sacred than any other material object. For them, the body is a tool of the material world, and consuming it is a direct confrontation with mortality. In this act, they seek liberation from the cycle of birth and rebirth (samsara), moving closer to moksha—the ultimate release from suffering.

This practice is not a thoughtless provocation or a display of disrespect. Instead, it is an attempt to overcome the fear of death and reject the societal limitations that bind most people. By embracing death in its most raw and unfiltered form, the Aghoris strive to break their attachment to the self, believing that only by doing so can they transcend earthly existence and reach spiritual liberation.

Naga Babas and the Embrace of Death

The term "Naga Baba" refers to ascetics who take renunciation to an extreme, living naked and giving up all worldly comforts. In simple terms, "Naga" means "naked" or "bare," while "Baba" translates to "father" or "saint." These ascetics live as spiritual fathers, free from society’s constraints, seeking to fully embrace life’s impermanence. Much like the Aghoris, Naga Babas don’t fear death—they accept it. Their practices aren’t about avoiding or resisting death but about recognising it as a natural part of the human experience. For them, life and death are intertwined, both fleeting and deeply connected.

Their spiritual journey involves long periods of silence, fire rituals, and immersion in the Ganges, all symbols of their detachment from material concerns and their deep understanding of the cycle of life and death. Many choose to meditate or perform rituals near cremation grounds, using these spaces to reflect on life’s fragility. The physical body, in their eyes, is a temporary vessel—something to acknowledge, not hold onto, as it eventually decays.

I spent time with a few Naga Babas, witnessing their deep connection to the transience of life. As they sat near the sacred Ganges or by the fire of a cremation pyre, their chants filled the air, their mantras powerful and humbling. Their silence carried deep reflection—an invitation to consider the fleeting nature of everything. In their rituals, they honoured the spirit of life while accepting the reality of death. By fully accepting death, they believe they can transcend samsara, the endless cycle of suffering, and ultimately achieve liberation.

Living on the Edge of Life and Death

Both the Aghori sadhus and Naga babas inhabit a space that exists on the edge of life and death. They live close to the realities of mortality. Their lives are a reminder of the fragility of human existence and the inevitability of death. Rather than shy away from these realities, they immerse themselves in them, viewing them as an essential part of the human journey.

Reflecting on my time with the Aghori sadhus and Naga babas, I cannot help but feel drawn to what others may perceive as the taboo and the macabre. There’s something undeniably magnetic about what society often deems grotesque, perhaps because it forces us to confront our deepest fears and questions about life and death. We tend to shy away from the uncomfortable, the unclean, the unholy, but it is within these very spaces that a deeper truth resides. The rawness of mortality, in all its unsettling forms, holds immense power.