The very great interest which Hindoo females feel in the periodical return of this grand festival, is known to every one who is at all conversant with the existing state of things in this country. In the numerous districts and villages of Bengal inaugural preparations are made for the celebration of this anniversary rite precisely from the day on which the Juggernauth car is drawn in _a.s.sar_, from the date of the festival of Ruth Jattra, that is for about four months before the date of the Doorga Poojah. While the _koomar_, or the image maker, is engaged in making the Bamboo frame-work for the images, the women in the villages devote their time to cleaning and storing the rice, paddy, different kinds of pulse, cocoanuts, and other products of the farm, all which are required for the service of the G.o.ddess. Ten times a day they will go to the temple to see what the Koomar is doing. Not capable of writing, nor having any idea of 'Letts' Diaries,' they note down in their minds the daily progress of work, and feel an ineffable pleasure in communicating the glad tidings to each other. When day by day the straw forms are converted into clay figures, and they are for the first time plastered over with chalk and then painted with variegated colors, the hearts of the females leap with joy, and again when the completed images are being decorated with _dack_ ornaments or tinsel ware, their exhilaration knows no bounds. In the fulness of anxiety, the mistress of the house directing her attention to what more is yet wanted for the due completion of the Poojah, rebukes the master for his apparent neglect somewhat in the following manner: "Where is the _dome sujah_, (basketware)? Where is the _koomar sujah_, (pottery)? Where are the spices and clothes? Where are the _sidoorchupry_ and sundry other things for the _Barandalla?_" Adding that there is no time to be lost, the Poojah is near at hand. The husband acquiescing in what the wife says a.s.sures her that everything shall be procured by Sat.u.r.day or Sunday next.

On the first day of the new moon, when every Hindoo in the city becomes more or less busy on account of his official, domestic and religious engagements, the lady of the house is chiefly occupied with making suitable arrangements for _tutwa_ or presents, first to her son-in-law and then to her other relatives, a subject on which I shall have to say a few words in its proper place. On the eve of the sixth day of the new moon, when the grand Poojah may be said to commence, the females, consigning all their past sorrows to oblivion, feel a sort of elasticity, hopefulness and confidence which almost involuntarily draw forth from the depths of their hearts, feelings of joy and ecstacy. Even a virgin widow, whose grief is yet fresh, forgets her miseries for awhile, and cheerfully mingles in the jubilee. She forms part and parcel of the domestic sisterhood, and for the five days of her life at least, her settled sadness gives way to pleasing sensations, and though forbidden by a cruel priesthood to lend her hand to the ceremonial, she nevertheless goes up to the G.o.ddess and prays in a devotional spirit for a better future. Amidst such a scene of universal hilarity, supplemented by a confident hope of eternal beat.i.tude, it is quite natural that Hindoo females, socially divorced from every other innocent amus.e.m.e.nt, should feel a deep, sincere and intense interest in such a national festival which possesses the two fold advantages of a religious ceremony and a social demonstration. None but the most callous hearted can remain indifferent. Men, women and children, believers and unbelievers, are alike overcome by the force of this religious anniversary. The females go to the temple at all hours of the day, and feast their eyes upon the captivating figure of mighty Doorga and her glorious satellites. Nor do they stare at her with a vacant mind; each has her grievance to represent, her wish to express; prayer in a fervent spirit is offered to the G.o.ddess for the redress of the one and the consummation of the other. Should a son die prematurely, should a husband suffer from any difficulty, should a son-in-law be not true to his wife, should a daughter be doomed to widowhood, the females wrestle hard in prayer for relief and amelioration. On the fourth or Bijoya day, when the image is to be consigned to the river, one takes away a bit of the consecrated _urghy_[67]; a second, the _khappurer sara_, or the sacrificial earthen plate; a third, the crushed betel; a fourth, the sacred _billaw_ leaves, and so on; each forms a sacred trust, and all are preserved with the greatest possible care, as the priceless heirloom of a benignant G.o.ddess.

Having briefly described the main features of this religious festival, I will now endeavour to give a short account of the other circ.u.mstances connected with it. In the house of a Brahmin, _Khichree_, rice, dhall, fish and vegetable curries, together with sweetmeats and sour milk, are given to the guests, chiefly in the day time during the three Pooja days. Many Hindoos, whose religious scruples will not allow them to kill a goat themselves, generally go to the house of a Brahmin--but not without an eight anna piece or a Rupee--to satisfy their carnivorous appet.i.te during the Poojah. It is very creditable to the women of the sacerdotal cla.s.s that three or four of them undertake the duty of the _cuisine_, and feed from six to eight hundred persons for three days successively. As fish is not acceptable to Doorga, neither cooked goat's and sheep's flesh, a separate kitchen is set apart for the purpose of cooking meat of sacrificed animals. Brahmin women, as a rule, cook remarkably well. Their long experience in the culinary art, their habitual cleanliness, their undivided attention to their duty, and above all, the religious awe with which they prepare food for the G.o.ddess, give quite a relish to every thing they make. Nor is this all. Their devotion and earnestness is so great that they cannot be persuaded to eat any thing until all the guests are fully satisfied, and what is still more commendable, they look to no other reward for their trouble than the fancied approbation of the G.o.ddess, and the satisfaction of the guests. It is not before nine o'clock at night that they become disengaged, after which they bathe again, change clothes, say their prayers to the G.o.ddess, and then think of appeasing their hunger. Simple and unartificial as they naturally are, they, being mostly widows, are quite content with _habishi unno_, which was of yore the food of the Hindoo _rishis_ or saints. It consists of _autob_ rice, or rice from unboiled paddy, green plantain and dhall, all boiled in the same pot. Of course a large quant.i.ty of ghee is added to it, and at the time of eating milk is taken. These Brahmin women are, indeed, mistresses of the culinary art, if the bill of fare is not long, yet the dishes they make are generally very palatable. The truth is, they practically follow the trite saying, "what is worth doing at all, is worth doing well." Their simple recipes always produce appetising and wholesome dishes, they are thrifty housewives. It must be admitted that simplicity is not meanness, nor thriftiness a fault.

In the house of a _Kayasta_ or _Sudra_, whose female members, it must be observed, are generally more indolently inclined, and whose style of living is consequently more luxurious, the food offered to the guests consists chiefly of different kinds of sweetmeats, fruits, _loochees_, vegetable curries, &c. Four or five days before the Poojah begins, professional Brahmin sweetmeat-makers are employed to make the necessary arrangements at home, the princ.i.p.al ingredients required being flour, _soojee_, _chattoo_, (gram fried and powdered) _safeyda_ (pounded rice) sugar, spices, almonds, raisins, &c. Not a soul is permitted, not even the master of the house, to touch and much less taste these articles[68] before they are religiously offered to the G.o.ddess in the first instance and afterwards to the Brahmins. In these "feast days" of the Poojah in and about Calcutta, where nearly five hundred _pratimas_ or images are set up, every respectable Hindoo, as has been observed before, is previously provided at home with an adequate supply of all the necessaries and luxuries of life that would last about a month or so, it being considered unpropitious then to be wanting in any store, save fruit and fish. This accounts for a general disinclination on the part of the well-to-do Baboos to partake of any ordinary entertainment when visiting the G.o.ddess at a friend's house, but to the Brahmins and the poverty-stricken cla.s.ses this is a glorious opportunity for "gorging." The despicable practice to which I have alluded elsewhere of carrying a portion of the _jalpan_ (food) home is largely resorted to on this occasion. It is certainly a relic of barbarism, which the growing good sense of the people ought to eschew.

The night of the ninth day of the increase of the moon is a grand night in Bengal. It is the _nabamee ratree_, and modesty is put to the blush by the revelry of the hour. The houses of the rich become as bright as the day, costly chandeliers, hanging lamps and wall lights burning with gas, brilliantly illuminate the whole mansion, while the walls of the _Boytuckhana_ or sitting room are profusely adorned with English and French paintings and engravings, exhibiting certainly not the best specimens of artistic skill, but singularly calculated to extort the plaudits of the illiterate, because engravings and pictures are the books of the unlearned, who are more easily impressed through the eye than the ear. All the rooms and antechambers are frequently furnished in European style. Splendid Brussels or Agra carpets are spread on the floors of the rooms, a few of which, as if by way of contrast, have the ordinary white cloth spread on them. Nor are hanging Punkhas wanting. In one of the s.p.a.cious halls sits the Baboo of the house, surrounded by courtiers pandering to his vanity. Indolently reclining on a bolster, and leisurely smoking his _albollah_ with a long winding _nal_ or pipe, half dizzy from the effects of last night's revelry, he feels loath to speak much. Like an opium eater, he falls into a siesta, whilst the Punkah is moving incessantly. If an orthodox Hindoo, freed from the besetting vice of drinking, and awake to all that is going on around him, before him are placed the Dacca silver filagree worked _atterdan_ and _golappa.s.s_, as well as the _pandan_ with lots of spices and betel in it. On entering the room, the olfactory nerves of a visitor are sure to be regaled with fragrant odours. At intervals rose water is sprinkled on the bodies of the guests, and weak spiced tobacco is served them every fifteen minutes, the current topics of the day forming the subject of conversation. All this is surely vain ostentation and superfluity. So far the arrangements and reception of friends are essentially _oriental_, the manner of sitting, the mode of conversation, and the way in which otto of roses, rose water and betel are given to guests are Mahomedan and Hindoo-like, but there is something beyond this; here orthodoxy is virtually proscribed and heterodoxy practically proclaimed.

While the officiating priests and the female devotees are offering their prayers to the presiding G.o.ddess, the Baboo, a liberal Hindoo, longs to retire to his _private_ room, perhaps on the third storey, at the entrance of which a guard is placed to keep off unwelcome visitors, that he might partake of refreshments supplied by an English Purveying Establishment with a few select friends. The room is furnished after European fashion, chairs, tables, sofas, cheffoniers, cheval gla.s.s, sideboard, pictures, gla.s.s and silver and plated ware, knives, forks and spoons, and I know not what more, are all arranged in proper order, and friends of congenial tastes have free access. First cla.s.s wines and viands, such as Giesler's champagne, Heatly's Port and Sherry, Exshaw's Brandy No. I, Crabbie's Ginger wine, Ba.s.s's best bottled beer, soda water, lemonade, ice, Huntley and Palmer's mixed biscuits, manilla cigars, cakes and fruits in heaps, _poloway_, _kurma_, _kupta_, _kallya_, roast fowl, cutlets, mutton chop and fowl curry,[69] are at your service, and an English visitor is not an unwelcome guest.

_Loochee_, _Sundesh mittoye_, _burfi_, _rasagullah_, _sittavog_, &c., the ordinary food of the Hindoos on festive days, are at a discount. The Great Eastern Hotel Company should be thankful for the large orders which the Hindoo aristocracy of Calcutta and its suburbs favor them with during this grand festival. The taste for the English style of living is not a plant of recent growth. It has been germinating since the days of John Company, when India merchantmen enjoyed the monopoly of the foreign trade of the country, when the highest authorities of the land had no religious scruples as Christians to be present at a Hindoo festival, when, in fact, Hindoo millionaires were wont to indulge in lavish expenditure[70] for the purpose of pleasing their new European masters.

Leaving aside the dignity and gravity of the clerical profession for a while, the Reverend Mr. Ward was induced out of curiosity to pay a visit to the palatial mansion of the Shoba Bazar Rajahs of Calcutta on the last night of the Poojah.

"In the year 1806," says he, "I was present at the worship of this G.o.ddess, as performed at the house of Rajah Rajkishnu at Calcutta. The buildings where the festival was held were on four sides, leaving an area in the middle. The room to the east contained wine, English sweetmeats, &c., for the entertainment of English guests, with a native Portuguese or two to wait on the visitors. In the opposite room was placed the image, with vast heaps of all kinds of offerings before it.

In the two side rooms, were the native guests, and in the area groups of Hindoo dancing women, finely dressed, singing, and dancing with sleepy steps, surrounded with Europeans who were sitting on chairs and couches.

One or two groups of Mussulman-men singers entertained the company at intervals with Hindoosthanee songs, and ludicrous tricks. Before two o'clock the place was cleared of the dancing girls, and of all the Europeans except ourselves, and almost all the lights were extinguished, except in front of the G.o.ddess,--when the doors of the area were thrown open, and a vast crowd of natives rushed in, almost treading one upon another, among whom were the vocal singers, having on long caps like sugar loaves. The area might be about fifty cubits long and thirty wide.

When the crowd had sat down, they were so wedged together as to present the appearance of a solid pavement of heads, a small s.p.a.ce only being left immediately before the image for the motions of the singers, who all stood up. Four sets of singers were present on this occasion, the first consisting of Brahmins, (_Huru Thacoor_), the next of bankers, (_Bhuvanundu_), the next of boeshnuvus, (_Nitaee_), and the last of weavers, (_Lukshmee_), who entertained their guests with filthy songs and danced in indecent att.i.tudes before the G.o.ddess, holding up their hands, turning round, putting forward their heads towards the image, every now and then bending their bodies, and almost tearing their throats with their vociferations. The whole scene produced on my mind sensations of the greatest horror. The dress of the singers, their indecent gestures, the abominable nature of the songs, (especially _khayoor_) the horrid din of their miserable drum, the lateness of the hour, the darkness of the place, with the reflection that I was standing in an idol temple, and that this immense mult.i.tude of rational and immortal creatures, capable of superior joys, were in the very act of worship, perpetrating a crime of high treason against the G.o.d of heaven, while they themselves believed they were performing an act of merit, excited ideas and feelings in my mind which time can never obliterate. I would have given in this place a specimen of the songs sung before the image, but found them so full of broad obscenity that I could not copy a single line. All those actions which a sense of decency keeps out of the most indecent English songs, are here detailed, sung, and laughed at, without the least sense of shame. A poor ballad singer in England would be sent to the house of correction, and flogged, for performing the _meritorious actions_ of these wretched idolaters.[71]

The singing is continued for three days from two o'clock in the morning till nine."

It is a noteworthy fact that in those days when Bengal was in the zenith of its prosperity and splendour, the Governor-General, the members of the Council, the judges of the Supreme Court, and distinguished officers and merchants, did not think it derogatory to their dignity, or at all calculated to compromise their character as Christians, to honor the Rajahs with their presence during this festival, but since the days of Daniel Wilson, the highly venerated Lord Bishop of Calcutta, who must have expressed his strong disapprobation of this practice, these great men have ceased to attend. At present but a few young officers, captains of ships in the port and East Indians may be seen to go to these nautches, and as a necessary consequence of this withdrawal of countenance, the outward splendour of the festival has of late considerably diminished. Seeing the apparent approval of idolatrous ceremonies by some Europeans, a conscientious Christian once exclaimed: "I am not ashamed to confess that I fear more for the continuance of the British power in India, from the encouragement which Englishmen have given to the idolatry of the Hindoos, than from any other quarter whatever."[72]

As regards the other amus.e.m.e.nts at this popular festival, a few words about the Indian _nautch_ (dancing) girls may not be out of place here.

These women have no social status, their principles are as loose as their character is immoral. They are brought up to this disreputable profession from their infancy. They have no husbands, and many of them are never married. The Native Princes, and chiefs, rich zemindars and persons in affluent circ.u.mstances, the capacity of whose intellect is as stinted as its culture is scanty, have been their great patrons. Devoid of a taste for reading and writing, they managed to drive the ennui of their lives by the songs of these dancing girls. Great were the rewards which they sometimes received at the hands of the Native kings in their palmy days. When a Princ.i.p.ality groaned under extravagance and financial embarra.s.sment, these bewitching girls were entertained at considerable expense to drown the cares of state-craft and king-craft. Even the most astute prince was not free from this courtly profligacy. Though these girls often basked in the sunshine of royal favor, yet there was not a single _Jenny Lind_ among them either in grace or accomplishment. As regards their income, a girl has been known to refuse ten thousand Rupees for performing three nights at the n.a.z.im's Court. When Rajah Rajkissen of Sobha Bazar, the Singhee family of Jorasanko, and the Dey family of Simla, celebrated these Poojahs with great pomp, dancing girls of repute were retained a month previous to the festival at great cost, varying from 500 to 1000 Rupees each for three nights. Now that those prosperous days are gone by, and the big English officials do not condescend to attend the nautch, the amount has been reduced to fifty Rupees or a little more. Their general attire and gestures, as well as the nature and tendency of their songs, are by no means unexceptionable.

These auxiliaries to sensual gratification, combined with the allurements of Bacchus, even in the presence of a deity, are the least of all fitted to animate or quicken devotional feelings and prayerful thoughts.

Theatrical performances from the popular dramas of the Indian poets, and amateur _jattras_, pantomimical exhibitions, also contribute largely to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the people. The old _Bidday Soonder_, _Maunvunjun_, _Dukha Juggo_, and others of a similar character are still relished by pleasure-seekers and holiday-makers. It is, however, one of the healthy signs of the times that native gentlemen of histrionic taste have recently got up amateur performances, which bear a somewhat close approximation to the English tragedies and comedies.

Having previously described all the important circ.u.mstances and details, religious and social, connected with this popular festival, I will now give a short account of the Bhasan or _Nirunjun_ which takes place on the tenth day of the new moon, or in the fourth day of the Poojah. It is also called _Bijoya_, because the end of a ceremonial is always attended with melancholy feelings. This is the day when the image is consigned to water either of a river or tank. Apart from its religious significance, the day is an important one to English and Native merchants alike.

Although all the public offices, Government and mercantile, are absolutely closed for twelve days, agents of Manchester and Glasgow firms must open their places of business on this particular day, which to native merchants and dealers is an auspicious day when large bargains of Piece Goods for present and forward delivery are made. Ten to fifteen lakhs of Rupees worth of articles are sold this day in three or four hours, the general impression being that such bargains bring good luck both to the buyer and the seller.

About eight o'clock in the morning, the officiating priest begins the service, and in half an hour it is over. Music, the indispensable accompaniment of Hindoo Poojahs, must attend every such service. A small looking-gla.s.s is placed on a pan of Ganges water and every inmate of the family, male or female, is invited to see the shadow or rather the reflex of the G.o.ddess on its surface. Deeply imbued as the minds of the votaries are with religious ideas, every individual looks on the mirror with a sort of devotional feeling, and expresses his or her conviction as to the reality of the representation. The children, more from amus.e.m.e.nt than faith, hang about the place, but the females steadfastly cling to the panoramic view, quite unwilling to leave it. Though totally ignorant of the philosophical theory of the a.s.sociation or suggestion of ideas, the scene naturally presents to their mind's eye the emotions they feel when leaving the paternal roof for the father-in-law's house.

"_Ma Doorga_ is going to her father-in-law's and will not return for another twelve month," exclaims one. "Look at her eyes, her sorrowful countenance," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.es another. "The temple will look wild and desolate when _Ma Doorga_ goes away," adds a third. To console them, the mistress of the house exhorts all to offer their prayers to the G.o.ddess, beseeching that she may continue to vouchsafe her blessings from year to year, and give prolonged life and happiness to all concerned. With this solemn invocation, they, each and every one, fall down on their knees before the G.o.ddess, whose spirit had departed on the day previous, and in a contemplative mood implore her benediction. Before retiring, however, every one takes with her some precious relic of the offerings (flowers or _billaputtra_) made to Doorga when her spirit was present, and preserves it with all the care of a divine gift, using it religiously in cases of sickness and calamity.

About three in the afternoon, after washing their bodies and putting on new clothes and ornaments, the females make preparations for performing the last and farewell ceremony in honor of the G.o.ddess. The _sudder_ (main) door is closed, musicians are ordered to go out in the streets, the Doorga with all her satellites is brought out into the area of the temple, the _barandallah_ with all its sundries is produced, and the females whose husbands are alive begin to turn round the images and touch the forehead of each and every one of the deities with the _barandallah_, repeating their prayers for lasting blessings on the family. To the inexpressible grief of the widows, who are present on the occasion, a cruel inst.i.tution has long since debarred them from a.s.sisting in this holy work. These ill-fated creatures are doomed only to stare at the images, but are not permitted to take an active part in the ceremonial. Is it possible to conceive a more gloomy picture of society than that which absolutely expunges from a human breast all traces of a religious privilege the exercise of which, though under a mistaken faith, tends to sweeten a wretched life? The miserable widows of India are unhappily destined to pine away their existence until greater leaders of native reforms arise and deliver them from the galling fetters of superst.i.tion.

The epilogue which closes the parting ceremony is called the _kanakanjally_, which consists in a woman (not a widow) taking a small bra.s.s plate of paddy and _doova_ gra.s.s with a Rupee dyed in red lead in it, and throwing it from the fore part of the image right over its head into the cloth of a man who stands behind for the purpose of receiving it. This last offering, it is needless to say, is preserved with the greatest care. The female who performs the rite is an object of envy.

This rite being performed, the females take each a bit of the sweetmeat and betel which has been _last_ offered to _Ma Doorga_. A sudden reaction of feeling takes place, all hearts are grieved, and some actually shed tears. Two sensations, though not exactly a.n.a.logous, arise in their minds; first the religious part of the festival, and the consequent arousal of a devotional spirit, vividly reminding one of the unceasing round of ritualistic ceremonies as well as festivity and gaiety that the presence of the G.o.ddess naturally enough produced, and which are about to vanish and disappear in an hour by the immersion of the G.o.ddess in the river or pond; and second, a worldly one, the recurrence of the idea when a mother sends her daughter to the house of her father-in-law. In either case, the tender heart of a Hindoo female easily breaks down under the pressure of grief.

The G.o.ddess is afterwards brought out and placed on a Bamboo stage borne on the shoulders of a set of coolies, all the flowers and _billaputtra_ offered her during the past three days are also put in a basket and taken to the riverside. The procession moves slowly forward, preceded by bands of English and Native musicians, and the necessary retinue of servants and guards, while from within the house, the women, not satiated with the sight of the G.o.ddess for one long month, stretch their eyes as far as their visual organs can extend to catch a last farewell glimpse of her. The streets of Calcutta, the English part of the town excepted, become literally crammed and almost impa.s.sable on such a day.

Groups of Police constables are posted here and there with a view to maintain peace and order, the streets become a pavement of heads. At the lowest calculation, there cannot be less than 100,000 sight-seers abroad. Men, women and children of all cla.s.ses and ranks come from a great distance to have a sight of the image. The tops of houses, the verandahs, the main roads, nay the unfrequented corners present a thick ma.s.s of living creatures, all anxious to feast their eyes upon the matchless grandeur of the scene. A foreigner, unaccustomed to such a magnificent spectacle, is apt to overrate the wealth and prosperity of the people on such a day. The number of images, the dazzling and costly embellishments with which they are decorated, the rich livery of some of the servants, the bands of musicians preceding the procession, the letting off of red and blue lights at intervals, the gala dress of the mult.i.tude, and last but not least, the elegant carriages of the big "swells," and the still more elegant attire of their owners, who loll back on the cushion of the carriages, diffusing fragrant odours as they pa.s.s, cannot fail to produce an imposing effect. Here a gaily clad Baboo with his patent j.a.pan leather shoes; there a Hindoosthanee dandy with his ma.s.sive gold necklace and valuable pearls hanging down his ears; here a proud Mogul in all the bravery of cloth of gold; there a frowning Mussulman with his dazzling cap and gossamer _chapkan_ (tunic), and ivory mounted stick, all combine to present a motley group of characters, national in their costumes, and unique in appearance. The poor country woman, her lord and children, though not favored by fortune, still cut a figure far above their normal condition.

Those Hindoos, who adorn their images without stint of cost, parade them through the most densely crowded streets till eight in the evening--vanity being the chief motive of action--while those who move in humbler spheres of life take them to boats on the river hired for the purpose, and throw them into the water amidst shouts of exultation. The mob of course sing obscene songs and dance indecently, all which is tolerated for the occasion. The growing sense of the people--the result of English education--has now-a-days greatly diminished the amount of indecency which was one of the distinguishing characteristics of former days on such an occasion.

Between seven and eight o'clock in the evening, the a.s.sembled crowd begins to disperse in joyous mood, talking all the way as to the respective superiority of such and such images. Amongst such a great number and variety, there is sure to be difference of opinion, but it is soon settled by the affirmation of a wise head that "the spirit of the G.o.ddess is the same in all the images; _Ma Doorga_, does not mind show."

When the worshippers and others return home, they go at once to the temple, where the officiating Brahmin waits for them to sprinkle on their bodies the sacred water; all are made to sit down on the floor with their feet covered with their clothes, lest a drop should fall upon them. The Brahmin with a small twig of mangoe leaves sprinkles the water, while repeating at the same time the usual incantation, the meaning of which is that health, wealth and prosperity may attend the votaries of _Doorga_, from year to year. After this they write on a piece of green plantain leaf the name of the G.o.ddess several times, and then clasp one another in their arms, and take the dust off the feet of all the seniors, with the mutual expression of good wishes for their worldly prosperity. An elderly man thus blesses a boy; "may you have long life, gold inkstand and gold pen, acquire profound learning and immense wealth, and support lakhs of men"; If a girl, he thus p.r.o.nounces his benediction (there being no clasping of arms between man and woman nor between woman and woman), "may you enjoy all the blessings of a married life (_i. e._, never become a widow) become the mother of a _rajah_ (king), use vermillion on your grey head, continue to wear the iron bangle, get seven male children, and never know want." It is well known that no blessing is more acceptable to a Hindoo female than that she may never become a widow, because the intolerable miseries of widowhood are most piercing to her heart; nor can it be otherwise so long as human nature remains unaltered. This social inst.i.tution of the Hindoos of cordially embracing each other and expressing all manner of good wishes on a particular day of the year, when all hearts are more or less affected with grief at the departure of the G.o.ddess, is a very commendable one. It has an excellent tendency to promote social reunion, good fellowship and brotherhood. Not only all the absent friends, relatives, acquaintances and neighbours, male and female, join in this annual greeting, but even strangers and the most menial servants are not forgotten on the occasion. Every heart rejoices, every tongue blesses, every acrimonious feeling is consigned to oblivion. This is a "quiet interval at least between storm and storm; _inters.p.a.ces_ of sunlight between the breadths of gloom, a glad voice on summer holidays, happy in unselfish friendships, in generous impulses, in strong health, in the freedom from all cares, in the confidence of all hopes." During such a happy period "it is a luxury to breathe the breath of life."

To drown their sorrows in forgetfulness, the Hindoos use a slight intoxicating beverage made of hemp leaves on this particular occasion.

Every one that comes to visit--and there must be a social gathering--or is present, is treated with this diluted beverage and sweets. Even the most innocent and simple females for once in a year are tacitly allowed to use it, but very sparingly. One farthing's worth of hemp leaves, or about one ounce, suffices for fifty persons or more, so that it becomes almost harmless when so copiously diluted. But those who have imbibed a taste for English wines and spirits always indulge freely on this occasion, giving little heed to temperance rules and lectures. It is "_Bijoya_" and drinking to excess is justifiable.

It would not be proper to close this subject without saying a few words about the national excitement which the approach of this festival produces, and the powerful impetus it gives to trade in general. It has been roughly estimated that upwards of a crore of Rupees (10,000,000) is spent every year in Bengal on account of this festival. Every family, from the aristocracy to the peasant, must have new clothes, new shoes, new every thing. Men, women, children, relatives, poor acquaintances and neighbours, nay beggars must have their holiday dress. Persons in straitened circ.u.mstances, who actually live from hand to mouth, deposit their hard-earned savings for a twelvemonth to be spent on this grand festival. Famished beggars who drag a miserable existence all their lives, and depend on precarious alms to keep their body and soul together all the year round, hopefully look forward to the return of this anniversary for at least a temporary change in their rags and tatters. Hungry Brahmins, whose daily avocation brings them only a scanty allowance of rice and plantain, cheerfully welcome the advent of "_Ma Doorga_" and gratefully watch the day when their empty coffer shall be replenished. Cloth merchants, weavers, braziers, goldsmiths, embroiderers, lace-makers, mercers, haberdashers, carpenters, potters, basket-makers, painters, house-builders, English, Chinese and Native shoemakers, ghee, sugar and corn merchants, grocers, confectioners, dealers in silver and tinsel ware, songsters, songstresses, musicians, hackney carriage keepers, Oorya bearers, hawkers, pedlars and such dealers in miscellaneous wares, all look forward to the busy season when their whole year's hopes shall be realised by bringing lots of Rupees into the till. To a man of practical experience in business matters, as far as the metropolis of British India is concerned, it is perhaps well known that the "Trades" because of the Doorga Poojah make _more_ in one month than they can possibly make in the remaining eleven months. From the first week in September to the middle of October, when the Poojah preparations are being actually made by the Hindoos, when they, frugal as they a.s.suredly are, once in a twelvemonth, loosen their purse strings, when the acc.u.mulated interest on Government securities is drawn, when all the arrears of house rent are peremptorily demanded, when remittance from the distant parts of the country arrives, when in short, rupees, annas and pice, are the "Go" of the inhabitants, the shopkeepers make a display of their goods as best they can. From sunrise to ten o'clock at night the influx of customers continues unabated, extra shops are opened and extra a.s.sistants employed, the shopkeepers themselves have scarcely leisure enough to take a hasty meal a day, and each day's sales swell the heart of the owner. The thrifty and economical Provincial, who loves money as dearly as the blood that runs through his veins, leisurely makes his sundry purchases before the regular rush of customers begins to pour in. He has not only the choice of a large a.s.sortment, and the "pick," of a new investment, but gets the benefit of a reasonable price, because the shopkeeper is not hard and tenacious in the early stage of the Poojah sale. As each day pa.s.ses, and novelties are exposed for public inspection, the shopkeeper raises his prices according to increasing demand. The effeminate and extravagant Baboo of the City, who does not worship Mammon half so devoutly as his country brother, does not mind paying a little too much for his "whistle," because he is large hearted and liberal minded. His more frequent intercourse with Englishmen has taught him to look upon money as "filthy lucre." He is not calculating, and hence he defers making his purchases till the eleventh hour, when, to use a native expression, "the shopkeeper cuts the neck with one stroke."

About one-fifth of the Hindoo population of Calcutta consists of people that are come from the contiguous villages and pergunnas of the Presidency Division; these men live in Calcutta solely for employment, keeping their families in the country where they have generally small farms of their own which yield them enough produce in the shape of rice, pulses, cereals, vegetables, &c., to last them throughout the year, leaving, in some instances, ample surplus stock, with which and a few milch cows as well as tanks, they husband their resources with the greatest frugality, and enjoy every domestic comfort and convenience.

They do not care for Davie Wilson's biscuits and sponge-cakes, or a gla.s.s of raspberry ice-cream or Roman Punch on a summer day; their bill of fare is as short and simple as their taste is primitive. These men make their Poojah purchases much earlier than their brethren in the city, simply because they have to start for home as soon as the public holidays commence on the eve of the fourth day of the increase of the moon. If the Indian Railways have benefited one cla.s.s of the people more than another, it is these men who should be thankful for the boon. If the East Indian and Eastern Bengal Railway Companies' coaching receipts are properly examined for two days, _viz._, the fourth and fifth days of the new moon or the beginning of the Doorga Poojah holidays, they will certainly exhibit an incredibly large amount of receipts from third cla.s.s carriages. Indeed it has been rather facetiously remarked by town's people that Calcutta becomes much lighter by reason of the exit of country people during the Doorga Poojah holidays, but then the return of the former to their home from the Moffussil should be also taken into the account. On a fair calculation, the outgoing number far exceeds the incoming proportion. It should also be observed that the list of purchases of the former embraces a greater variety of items than that of the latter. Their mothers, wives, daughters and sisters, not to speak of the male members of the family, being absent in the country-house, the want of each and every one must be supplied. Articles for domestic consumption in a Hindoo family are in the greatest requisition.

Looking-gla.s.ses, combs, _alta_, _sidoor_ or China vermillion, _ghoomsi_ (string round the loins), scented drugs for ladies' hair, black powder for the teeth, soap, pomatum, otto of rose, rose water, wax candles, _sidoorchoobry_ (toilet box made of small sh.e.l.ls), silk, thread, wool, carpets, spices of all sorts both for the betel and the kitchen, betel-nuts, cocoanut oil for ladies' hair, sugar-candy, almonds, raisins, Cabul pomegranates, Dacca, Santipore and English made _dhooties_, _oorunees_ (sheets), _sarees_ (lady's apparel), silk handkerchiefs, silk cloth, Benares embroidered cloth, satin and velvet caps, lace, hose, tinsel ornaments for the images, English shoes and sundries, const.i.tute the catalogue of their purchases. This explains their going into the Bazar early and accounts for their extra expenditure on the score of luxuries and superfluities of life, but the reader should bear in mind that such extravagance is indulged in only once a year. Generally esteemed as these people are for their saving qualities, frugal, simple and abstemious habits, an annual departure from the established rule is not unjustifiable. The rich cla.s.ses, as will be evident from what has been said, spend enormous sums in making their fashionable purchases on this occasion.

From the foregoing details it is easy to infer that the Doorga Poojah anniversary presses heavily on the limited resources of a Hindoo family.

A rich man experiences little difficulty in meeting his expenses, but the middling and the humbler cla.s.ses, who comprise nine-tenths of the population, are put to their wits' end to make both ends meet. They are sometimes obliged to solicit the pecuniary aid of their rich friends to enable them to get over the _Doorga_ difficulty. It is, perhaps, not generally known that during this popular festival, or rather before it, when all Bengal is in a state of social and religious ferment, when money must be had by fair means or foul, not a few unfortunate men, chiefly libertines and rakes, deliberately commit frauds by forging cheques, drafts, and notes, which eventually lead them into the greatest distress and disgrace. Besides the high price of clothes and of all descriptions of eatables, every family must have a month's provision to carry them through the period during which no money is forthcoming.

I had almost forgotten to say anything about the annual gratuity which the Brahmins of Bengal obtain on the occasion of this festival. From time immemorial, when orthodox Hindooism was in the ascendant, the Brahmins not only advanced their claims, as now, to all the offerings made to G.o.ds or G.o.ddesses, small or great, but established a rule that every Hindoo, whose circ.u.mstances would permit it, should give them individually, one, two, four, or five Rupees at the return of this festival. Every respectable Hindoo family, even now-a-days when heterodoxy is rampant in all the great centres of education, has to give ten, fifteen, twenty-five, or fifty Rupees to Brahmins. Rich families give much more. So very tenacious are the Brahmins of this privilege that even if they earn one hundred Rupees a month by employment they will not forego a single Rupee once a year on this occasion, seeing they claim it as a birthright.

These men have studied human nature, but they have built their hopes of permanent gain on the baseless fabric of a hollow superst.i.tion, which is destined, through the progress of improvement, inevitably to fall into decay. It is too late to retrieve the huge blunder of laying a false foundation for their gains.

FOOTNOTES:

[51] Doorga is also worshipped in the month of April, in the time of the vernal equinox, but very few then offer her their devotion, though this celebration claims priority of origin.

[52] For some general remarks on the religion of the Hindoos, see Note c.

[53] "In this ancient story" says Tod, "we are made acquainted with the distant maritime wars which the princes of India carried on. Even supposing Ravana's abode to be the insular Ceylon, he must have been a very powerful prince to equip an armament sufficiently numerous to carry off from the remote kingdom of _Kousula_ the wife of the great king of the Suryas. It is most improbable that a petty king of Ceylon could wage equal war with a potentate who held the chief dominion of India; whose father, _Dosaratha_ drove his victorious car (_ratha_) over every region (_desa_) and whose intercourse with the countries beyond the Bramaputra is distinctly to be traced in the _Ramayana_."

[54] This is also the day which is vulgarly called the _Kala kata amabashay_ when unripe plantain fruits are cut in immense quant.i.ties for offerings to Doorga.

[55] This sacred jar is marked with two combined triangles, denoting the union of the two deities, Siva and Doorga,--the worshippers of the _Sakti_, female energy, mark the jar with another triangle.

[56] The day before the _Kalpa_ begins, these priests receive new clothes, comprising a _dhootie_ and _dubja_, and some money for _habishay_, or food dest.i.tute of fish. Very few, however, abide by the rules enjoined in the holy writings.

[57] Even in the observance of this religious preliminary, the Brahmins take advantage of their superior caste, and curtail five days out of six in order to save expense. Every thing is allowable in their case, because they a.s.sume to be the oracles between the G.o.d and man.

[58] The vermilion is used by a Hindoo female whose husband is _alive_, the privilege of putting it on the forehead is considered a sign of great merit and virtue.

[59] There is a singular coincidence between the Hindoos and the ancient heathen nations in regard to music. In both it is used as an indispensable accompaniment to religious worship.

[60] It is no less strange than surprising that ornamental articles prepared by the hands of European artisans who are accustomed to eat beef and pork, the very mention, and much more, the touch of which contaminates the purity of religion, are put on the bodies and heads of Hindoo G.o.ds without the least religious scruple, simply for the gratification of vanity. So much for the consistent and immaculate character of the Hindoo creed!

[61] These scented oils are mostly prepared by Mussulmans, whose very touch is enough to desecrate a thing; the Brahmins knowing this fact unhesitatingly use them for religious purposes. Thus we see in almost every sphere of social and domestic life the fundamental rules of religious purity are shamefully violated.

[62] It is deserving of notice that the slaughter of oxen, cows or calves is most religiously forbidden in the Hindoo Shaster. Divine honors are paid to the species. The cow is regarded as a form of Doorga and called Bhuggob.u.t.ty. The husband of Doorga, Shiva, rides naked on an ox. The very _dung_ of a cow purifies all unclean things in a Hindoo household, and possesses the property of a disinfectant. The milk of a cow a.s.suredly affords the best nourishment to the young and the old, hence the species was deified by the Hindoo sages. Even after the advent of the English into this country for above two centuries, an orthodox Hindoo is apt to exclaim "what impious times!" whenever he happens to see a Mussulman butcher carry a cow or calf in the street for slaughtering purposes. Not a few wonder how the English power continues to prosper amidst the daily perpetration of such irreligious acts. By way of derision, the English are called _gokhaduk_ or beef-eaters and the _goylas_ (milkmen) _Kasays_ or butchers. If such Hindoos had power enough they would certainly have delivered their country from the grasp of these beef-eaters and placed it above the reach of sacrilligious hands. But alas! in the present _Kaliyaga_ or iron age, both they and their G.o.ds are alike impotent.

[63] It is generally known that except the Brahmins, who are proverbially noted for their eating propensities, scarcely any respectable Hindoo condescends to sit down to a regular _jalpan_ dinner at this popular festival. He comes, gives his usual _pranamy_ of one Rupee to the G.o.ddess in the _thacoordallan_, talks with the owner of the house for a few minutes, is presented by way of compliment with otto of roses and pan, and then goes away, making the stereotyped plea that he has many other places to go to. Besides this, every man is expected to provide himself at home with a good stock of choice eatables on this festive occasion. The prices of sweetmeats, already too high, are nearly doubled at this time, because of the large demand and small supply. From 32 Rupees a maund (82 lbs) the normal price of _sundesh_ in ordinary times, it rises to 60 or 70 Rupees in the Poojah time. Milk sells at four annas a pound, and without milk no _sundesh_ could be made. It is the most expensive article of food among the Hindoos of Bengal, when well made with fresh _channa_ (curded milk) it has a fine taste, but is entirely dest.i.tute of nutritive property. The Hindoos of the Upper Provinces, however, do not regard the preparation as _pure_, and consequently do not use it, because of its admixture with curded milk.

[64] Rich men are in the habit of firing guns for the guidance of the people.

[65] The flesh of buffaloes is used only by sweepers, shoemakers, &c., who sometimes quarrel for the possession of the slaughtered animals. The meat with country liquor ends in drunken feasts.

[66] The late Rajah Rajkissen Bahadoor, Baboos Santiram Sing, Ramdoolal Dey, Shibnarain Ghose, Prankissen Holdar, the Mullick family, the Ghosal family of Bhookoylash and others, spent large sums of money from year to year in giving clothes, food and money to a very large number of poor men, and liberating prisoners from jail on payment of their debts. Any relief to suffering humanity is certainly an act of great merit for which the donors deserve well of the community. In our days there are several Baboos who do the same on a limited scale, but the name of Baboo Tarucknauth Puramanick of Ka.s.siriparrah deserves a special notice.

Naturally una.s.suming and unambitious, his character is as irreproachable as his large-heartedness is conspicuous. On every anniversary of the Doorga Poojah, and on almost every religious celebration, he gives alms to hundreds and thousands of poor people without distinction of caste or creed. On the occasion of the Doorga Poojah festival he would not break his fast until midnight, when he is a.s.sured that all the poor people who came to his door have been duly provided with food and coppers. For three nights this distribution of alms continues. The public road before his house is closed by order of the police for the accommodation of beggars. Five or six times in a month he feeds all the poor people that come to his house, hence the fame of his generosity is spread far and wide, and he is surnamed Taruck Baboo, "the _datta_" or charitable--a distinction which the more opulent of his countrymen (and there are not a few) should seek to covet.

[67] An _Urghy_ is a bunch of doorva gra.s.s tied up at the last, either with red cotton or a slip of plantain leaf. Two or three of such bundles are made, one is placed on the crown of the G.o.ddess and two on her two feet. It is usually stuffed with paddy and besmeared with sandal wood water and vermillion. It is a sacred offering and consequently preserved for solemn occa.s.sions.