87/ 100 Plaster and Piggy
The Man with the Steel Urn.
In Varanasi, you will find men and women (but mostly men) hanging around the ancient stone ghats that lead down to the river Ganges. They weave slowly among the Indian pilgrims who have come to bathe in the river and perform their religious practices. You can also find them sitting in little makeshift encampments, often behind a mat strewn with an assortment of indiscernible objects where they invite you to sit and receive life advice in return for a donation.
The word Baba doesn’t signify that the person has a specific role, such as a priest or doctor; rather, they are people who are trusted and respected. They are perhaps seen as wise elders (even though they are not all old) who possess spiritual maturity and will be able to use their knowledge to help you out in times of need. For a small donation.
Unfortunately even the intense spirituality of Varanasi doesn’t make it immune to the problems of greed and commercialisation. Among the Babas who do practice the Hindu teachings of Dharma (having good conduct), Karma (believing that good actions are rewarded with good consequences) and Seva (helping without expecting reward or praise) there are plenty who wear the clothes, put their hair into dreadlocks and extort as much money as possible from tourists and fellow citizens alike, all in the name of religion.
Some of these people make a surprising amount of money. So much so, in fact, that several people we know in Varanasi have commented recently that they are now relatively wealthy. Whilst we were in Varanasi early this year (2026), the headline news was a story about a spiritual leader from Varanasi known as Satua Baba who had gained significant attention for appearing at the 2026 Magh Mela in Prayagraj driving luxury vehicles, including a Porsche.
This brings me to Piggy and Plaster—just two dogs cared for by an amazing Baba called Mithun Bhattacharya. We met him in the last hours of our final day in Varanasi, when we didn’t have enough time to sit and have tea with him or, slightly unexpectedly, look at the didgeridoos he made and was keen to show us (why do I always discover amazing things on the last day when it’s too late to do anything about it?). He was carrying a large stainless steel urn full of what looked to be a rice-based stew and was feeding the five dogs in the photograph above. Naturally I got talking with him.
The food he was giving them was all home-made Indian food which he said he cooked every day, just for the dogs. He told us that whilst he appreciates the sentiment of others (mostly foreign tourists) feeding the dogs Pedigree dog food, he said it was far too processed and the dogs lacked the ability to digest it properly which, ultimately, caused them harm.
For some of his life, he lived and worked in Europe before deciding to quit his job and move back to India where he could focus his spirituality and, of course, devote time to caring for the dogs and the occasional cow. He told us he had enough money from his previous life and that he too has become saddened by the other Babas who seemed to be in their roles solely for the money, very rarely applying their own teachings and caring for the people or the creatures that exist alongside them. He seemed to be a very good man.
As for the names of the dogs, he had a no-nonsense approach to picking them for the animals he cared for. In the bundle of five dogs below, one was called Plaster, one was called Piggy and the rest all had names too, but we didn’t have time to ascertain what they were. The unfortunate dog named Piggy acquired her name because her face had been badly damaged when someone beat her and her nose now looked a lot like a pig’s snout (it really did). Plaster was found with a broken leg which, of course, he fixed with a plaster cast.
Karma will surely reward Mithun for all of his amazing work.
