Life in an Indian village

NRLF

B ^ E^T 511

1

LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE

LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE

BY

T. RAMAKRISHNA, B.A,

WITH AN- INTRODUCTION BY
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

SIR M. E. GRANT DUFF, G.C.S.L

Sanson
T. FISHER UNWIN

PATERNOSTER SQUARE

MDCCCXCI

^

7^.^

e

A-?7ff^2

Reproduced by DUOPAGE process
in the United Stales of America

MICRO PHOTO INC
Cleveland 12. Ohio

\DS42,/

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I.

FAGS

Introductory remarks— The headman—The accountant
— The watchman . . . . • 25

CHAPTER II.

The Hindu system of caste — The Pu'6hita, or the
astrologer— The temple priests— The schoolmaster . 37

CHAPTER III.

Hindu poetry — The physician — The carpenter — The
blacksmith— The shepherd— The story of the dull
shepherd . . . . . • $1

CHAPTER IV.

The washerman — The potter— The barber and his wife,
the village midwife — The Pujari, or the priest of the
village goddess . . . . . . 62

389

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER V,

PACK

The Panisiva — Account of the dispute between the Pani-
siva and the potter, and the part played therein by the
Brahmin Appalacharri — The Shylock of K^lambakam
— The dancing girls — The story of the shepherd and
his wife . . . . .... 74

CHAPTER VI.

Remarks on slavery in India — The pariahs— Mayandi,
the headman of the Parcherry — The Valluvan — The
chuckler — The Villee — The Korathy — The Korathy's
lullaby 86

CHAPTER VH.

The Indian village constitution — Hindu women — A con-
versation among the women of the village of Kdlam-
bakam — Duriyodana's love for Subathira, and the sad
result . . . . . . .97

CHAPTER VHI.
The village bards — The story of the royal huntress . ill

CHAPTER IX.

Jugglers and acrobats — Introductory remarks — An ac-
count of the several feats performed by the jugglers
and acrobats . . . . . .120

CHAPTER X.

Snake-charmers and animal-tamers— Hindu feeling re-
garding the serpent — The snake-charmer and his
feats — The highly intelligent cows and bullocks . 133

CONTENTS. 7

I CHAPTER XL

fAGK

The village preacher— His sermon on the incident related

in the Mahabaratha, viz., Sindhava^s Death , ,142

CHAPTER XII.

The village drama— The story of Harischandra— General

remarks regarding the Indian stage . . .162

CHAPTER XHI.

Feasts and festivals— The Pongal feast— Description of a
. festival in the temple— The story of the queen who
committed suttee . . . . .178

CHAPTER XIV.

The religious brotherhood — How they followed the temple
idol and sang sacred lyrics . . .192

CHAPTER XV.
Concluding Remarks . . . . . 100

INTRODUCTION.

I HAVE been asked by Mr. T. Ramakrishna^
the writer of these sketches, which appeared
originally in a magazine published at Madras,
to put a preface to them in their collected
form. I am very willing to do so, because
the little book appears to me an honest
and intelligent attempt to convey to the
English public some ideas about the life led
by ninety per cent, of the people in the most
Indian part of India.

In the north of that country or continent,
one invasion after another, from the far-off
coming of the Aryans all through history, has
profoundly modified the conditions of life.
The vast Dravidian population of the South
itself probably came to India from outside,.

«o INTRODUCTION,

but SO long ago that no one can say either
whence it started or when it established itself
in its present seat.

Europeans, despairing perhaps of finding
out much about its ancient history, have very
generally neglected it. All the more desirable
is it that Dravidians who have been educated
in our schools and colleges should devote
themselves to inquiries relating either to the
present or the past of their own people.

The author of the sketches takes a village of
some fifty or sixty houses which he considers
to be a typical representative of some fifty-five
thousand such villages scattered over the
Madras Presidency, a province considerably
larger than the British Isles. He describes it
as situated on the Palar between Conjeeveram
and Mahabalipuram, which is not far from
the spot best known to Europeans as "the
Seven Pagodas" made famous by Southey's
" Curse of Kehama.'* To his village he gives
the real or imaginary name of Kelambakam.
J never saw it, but many is the place just like
it which I have seen. He describes it as :

INTRODUCTION. n

"A cluster of trees, consisting of the
tamarind, mango, cocoanut, plantain, and
other useful Indian trees ; a group of dwel-
lings, some thatched and some tiled ; a small
temple in the centre — these surrounded on all
-sides by about five hundred acres of green
fields, and a large tank capable of watering
these five hundred acres of land for about six
months/*

He then proceeds to pass in review with
full particulars — but, I presume, under ficti-
tious names — all the leading personages of the
little community.

First, of course, comes the village head-
man, or village Munsiff as he is commonly
•called.

Secondly, the public accountant or Kur--

nam.

Thirdly, the policeman, and

Fourthly, the Brahmin sage.

These are followed by the schoolmaster,
the Vythian or physician, the carpenter, the
blacksmith, the shepherd, the washerman,
the potter, the barber and his wife.

I* INTRODUCTION.

The centre of the religion of Kelambakam
is the temple of the local goddess Anga*
lammal, which stands a furlong or two from
the rest of the houses ; and she has, of course,
her priest or Pujari^ under whom are various
servants of the shrine, with which are also
connected a couple of dancing girls.

Then we have the Pantsivay a sort of
general servant of the village; next the
money-lender, the local banker, the descrip-
tion of whom recalls the observation which I
once heard made by a botanical guide in the
south of France, who was not aware that he
was addressing one of the mo3t dignified of
the potentates of Lombard Street : ** Mais
vous savez. Monsieur, ces banquiers sont
toujours Juifs ! "

Lastly are enumerated the humblest per-
sonages in the local hierarchy — the tanner, to
whose occupation, in a land where the cow is
sacred, great discredit naturally attaches ; the
tattooer, the Villeey who gathers, and exchanges
for grain, honey, roots, medicinal herbs, and
other forest produce. Add to these a small

INTRODUCTION, 13

community of pariahs (who live in a little
quarter of their own and were formerly in the
position of serfs, but to whom the author of
this work gives an excellent character), and
the little microcosm is complete.

" It will be seen," says Mr. T. Rama-
krishna, " that this village is a little world in
itself, having a government of its own and
preserving intact the traditions of the past in
spite of the influences of a foreign govern-
ment and a foreign civilization. Every
member of the little state of Kelambakam
regularly performs the duties allotted to him,
and everything works like a machine. Those
that render service for the upkeep of the
village constitution are either paid in grain or
have some lands allotted to them to be culti-
vated and enjoyed free of rent. Those that
are paid in grain present themselves during
the harvest time at the threshing floor; and
when the villager gathers his corn and is
ready to remove it to his house, he distributes
a portion to each of the village servants,
according to the nature and importance of

14 INTRODUCTION,

the service rendered to him throughout the
whole year. And these simple, honest
villagers earn their livelihood, year after year^
by toiling hard from early morning till close
of day, leading a peaceful and contented life>
living happily w^ith their wives and children
in their humble cottage homes, and caring for
nothing that goes on beyond their own little
village."

Nor are they without amusements which
bring them often together, and we have
detailed to us the gossip of the women when
they congregate to draw water ; we are
allowed to witness the delight with which
the village bards are listened to, as well as to
watch the performances of the jugglers, of
the acrobats, of the snake-charmers, and of
the animal-tamers. Some of the feats of
these people have been frequently described
by Europeans in India, but I never happened
to hear of anything like the doings of the
bull Rama and the cow Seeta which will
be found in the text, and are, I dare say, very
correctly recounted.

INTRODUCTION. 15*

Chapter XI. contains a long sermon^ on a
portion of the Mahabaratha, which purports to-
have been delivered by the village school-
master ; w^hile Chapter XII. is. given up to an
account of a village drama. The Thirteenth-
is devoted to feasts and festivities, while the
Fourteenth, a particularly interesting one,,
treats of the doings of a religious confraternity.
In a very brief but excellent concluding
chapter, Mr. T. Ramakrishna makes a few
reflections upon the most noticeable features,
of Indian village life.

" The first is," he says, " the extreme
importance attached to religion. Every other
thing gives way to this important aspect of*
Hindu life. In religion the Hindu lives,
moves, and has his being. His whole action,,
his whole thought, all that he does day by
day, and on occasions ot marriages and
funeral ceremonies, is tinged with religion.
The one pervading idea with the Hindu is.
how to get rid of future births and obtain
eternal beatitude. We have seen how in
dramatic performances gods are introduced to

i6 INTRODUCTION,

bless a truthful and honest man, how educated
animals are trained to act the parts of Rama,
Lakshmana, and Sita, and how in popular
tales recited in Hindu homes the religious
element is largely introduced. We thus find
religion to be the foundation of everything
Hindu. The very construction of an Indian
village bears ample evidence to this fact. A
temple is built and dedicated to the deity
worshipped, and round the temple a village
springs up. It is a rare phenomenon in
India, at least in Southern India, to find a
village without a temple. The religious
Hindu will not settle down in a village
where there is no temple, and where,
accordingly, he has no chances of acquiring
^ religious merit ! "

The second feature is the immense impor-
tance attached to water. The third is the
.mutual service system, which still exists in
full force in the midst of a world in which
money has become so important that people
often forget that it is nothing more than the
. measure of services.

INTRODUCTION. 17

The two chief objects of Mr. T. Rama-
krishna*s aversion — I might say the only ones,
for he is a most amiable critic — are the village
money-lender and the pettifogging lawyer.
For the one he would substitute agricultural
banks, while the other he would drive out
by recalling into constant action the old
village Panchayety or council of five. By all
means let this last be done in so far as it
is possible ; but as long as in all suits there
is a successful and an unsuccessful party, it
is to be feared that the unsuccessful party
will not be satisfied without appealing to
a higher tribunal, often no doubt to the
wasting of his own substance as well as
that of the other litigant.

As for agricultural banks, it would no
doubt be an excellent thing if they could
be established; and often and often has the
suggestion been made, but the practical
difficulties are very great. If this were not
so, we should have seen them tried on a
large scale long ere this.

It is not sufficiently remembered that

1 8 INTRODUCTION,

the village money-lender is only able to
demand and to obtain an immense interest
because he has often to lend on very
miserable security. How far could govern-
mental institutions or powerful corporations
of capitalists fulfil the same function as he
without incurring the same unpopularity,
and doing a thousand things which could
be plausibly represented as extremely harsh,
not to sav atrocious ?

The abuses of the present system are cer-
tainly great ; but as the people become more
acquainted with the elementary arts of read-
ing, writing, and arithmetic, some of these
will disappear, and the day may dawn when,
without any state-intervention, banks may
be as common in India and as useful in
the development of the country as they
have long been in Scotland.

I think the reader of this work will carry
away a pleasant, as I am sure he will carry
away a correct, general impression of the
character of the people of Southern India.
He will see that no good can be effected for

INTRODUCTION, 19

them, but only much harm, by introducing
European methods of government, foreign
alike to their characters and conditions.
What we can do, and what, thank God, we
have been doing now for several genera-
tions, is to enable these myriad little worlds
to live in peace instead of being, as they
were before our time, perpetually liable to
be harried and destroyed by every robber
or petty tyrant who could pay a handful
of scoundrels to follow him.

In Tinnevelly, the southern district oF the
Madras Presidency — far from being one of
the wildest, when the civilians who have just
retired after the end of their service were
entering upon it, there was a gang-robbery —
that is, burglary diversified with murder and .
torture, every night of the year. I had occa-
sion shortly before leaving Madras to ask the
head of the police, how many gang-robberies
there had been in that district in the previous
year. His answer was, " Not one."

" Hae tibi erunt artes."

30 INTRODUCTION.

These are the things which it is worth
her sons leaving these far Atlantic islands
to do at the ends of the earth !

We can benefit and are benefiting the
Indian villager by improving his water
supply, by preventing his wells being pol-
luted, by encouraging the growth of forest
around the head-waters of his rivers, and by
so . connecting the tank or artificial lake
which irrigates his field with the general
irrigation system of the country as to make
it as little likely to dry up as may be.

Then if there comes, as come there
assuredly will, several seasons together
when the rainfall is inadequate, we can
bring food to his door by road and railway
instead of allowing him to starve in his
isolation as did, from time to time, all his
fathers for some thousand years.

We can see that the village headman
dispenses justice fairly. We can see that
the village accountant does not rob; we
can see that the village policeman is
not oppressive; we can give the school-

INTRODUCTION. 21 -

master something sensible to teach ; we can
make the Vythians — who although their
name comes from the same root as Video, "I
see/' know much less than nothing, because
their minds are filled with every kind of
nonsense — possess at least the rudiments of
medicine, and we can dot the country over
with good surgeons and with midwives who
are acquainted with a thousand secrets of
nature unknown to the barber and his spouse.
We can introduce new products and create
new industries while we improve old ones ;
we can teach the villager how to combat his
deadliest enemy, fever, as Mr. Marmaduke
Lawson is so well doing at this very moment ;
we can enable him to circumvent small-pox,
as Mr. Forster Webster did in Tanjore, and
as the great goddess Mariamma, in spite of
many prayers, never has done. We can teach
him how to keep his streets and his back-
yards in a sanitary condition ; we can
greatly improve his agriculture, we can
give him better breeds of cattle ; and when
a youth of real ability shows himself amongst

32- INTRODUCTION,

his sons, we can educate him till he, in his
turn, becomes a useful member of the ad-
ministration or finds his place as an active
merchant, an intelligent farmer, or a worker
in some one of the many careers which
stand open to native merit.

It is a too prevalent idea in England that
our system does not afford many openings
to native merit in the service of Government.
There could not be a greater mistake. Of
course the work of supervision in the higher
places of the administration must, for the
most part, remain in European hands. That
stands to reason ; but it would probably not
be an exaggerated estimate to say that for
every European employed in the southern
province of India there are well on to fifty
natives, while every one who has ad-
ministered the patronage of that country
knows that he has often hungered and
thirsted for properly qualified natives ta
promote in certain departments of the
official hierarchy, without being able to
find what he desired.

INTRODUCTION. 25

Our service, sooth to say, attracts an
undue proportion of the intelligence ot
the country. The sweets of official life
and the prizes of the Bar are such that
they tend to starve other professions, and
above all those which Southern India
probably most wants at this moment, the
medical and the agricultural professions.

These are the two which in the interest
of the Indian villager I should most like
to see grow and prosper.

While we merely raise candidates for
Government employment and for the con-
tentions of the law court, we run great
danger of creating an educated proletariat,,
one of the worst curses that can afflict
any country.

To discuss that subject would, however,,
take me too far from the Indian village,'
and I willingly hand over the reader to
the excellent guidance of the native gentle^
man who is ready to direct his steps on

the banks of the Palar.

M. E. GRANT DUFF.

i.

Introductory remarks — The headman— The accountant— The
watchman

"" Has any one studied the village life of the
South ? Are there no facts to be collected
from a careful examination of it, which would
be useful to some future Sir Henry Maine ? If
there are, surely you should be the people to
collect them. It makes one who has a strong
feeling for South India a little sad, to read such
a book as Professor Max Muller s India, What
^an it teach us ? and to see how very little it
has to do with India south of the Vindhyan
range." So said our late Governor, Sir M.
E. Grant Duff, in the remarkable address he
delivered last year to the Madras University
graduates, when, in his capacity of Chancellor
of the University, he drew their attention to
the several branches of study to which they

26 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

could usefully devote their time and in which
they might instruct their Aryan brother of the
West. Life in an Indian village is a very
interesting study, and it is the object of the
present book to picture the life of the Hindu
as seen in a South Indian village.

It is a fact well known even to the most
superficial observer of Hindu society that every
portion of the system upon which that society
has been constructed is tinged with religion.
The Hindus are essentially a religious people,
and our ancient lawgivers taking advantage
of this characteristic of the nation, constructed
a system which was made to be religiously
binding. The manners, the customs, and the
ordinary daily duties have their origin in
religion. For instance, daily washing of the
body, which is considered good from a sanitary
point of view, is enjoined as a religious duty,
and, even to this day, a person who disobeys
this religious duty is shunned and avoided by
his friends. Thus, in fact, the Hindu lives,
moves, and has his being in religion.

Besides this, it is a fact also well known that
there is no nation in the world so conservative
as the Hindus — no people who stick with such

INTRODUCTOR V REM A RKS. 27

wonderful tenacity to the manners and customs
instituted by their forefathers as we ourselves.
Ask a Hindu why he follows this custom or
that, and he will immediately say that his father
taught him to do so, and that it was handed
down to him from time immemorial. And yet
to none are the words of the poet —

" We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow ;
No doubt our wiser sons will think us so,"

more applicable than to many of us of the
present generation.

No doubt, the Mohammedan conquest, which
was felt in a greater or less degree for nearly
seven centuries, and the influence of Western
civilization modified to a great extent our
beliefs and superstitions. But the Mohamme-
dan conquest was felt only in Northern India^
where its influence has been most marked.
Southern India was rarely visited by the
followers of the Prophet ; they simply pounced
upon it occasionally for the sake of plunder.
In proof of this, we note the fact that large
temples and religious institutions founded by
Hindu rajahs in the south remain intact. The
cruel hand of the Mohammedan did not de-

38 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

molish those wonderful architectural structures
that remain even to this day. We note also
the fact that, while the languages of Northern
India have been considerably affected by Mo-
hammedan contact, the Dravidian languages
-of the south retain a special distinctiveness of
their own. Again, the influence of Western
•civilization is felt only in large towns, and it
has not yet penetrated into the inner recesses
•of Indian villages. It is, therefore, to the
villages of Southern India that we must go
to see Hindu life at its best, unaffected as it
>is either by the Mohammedan conquest or by
the influence of Western civilization. Life in
a South Indian village presents many interest-
ing points to the historian and to the student
of antiquities.

There are about 55,000 villages in the
Madras Presidency, and out of a population
of about thirty-one millions, nearly twenty-
eight millions or about 90 per cent, of the
whole population of the presidency live in
villages, while the remaining 10 per cent,
live in towns. In trying to describe the
manner in which the bulk of the people in-
habiting Southern India spend their lives in

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 29^

their village homes, I shall take a typical
village and describe it by enumerating the
different persons living in it and the several
duties they perform.

A cluster of trees consisting of the tamarind,
mango, cocoanut, plantain and other useful
Indian trees, a group of dwellings, some
thatched and some tiled, a small temple in
the centre — these surrounded on all sides by
about five hundred acres of green fields, and
a large tank capable of watering those five
hundred acres of land for about six months —
this is the village of Kelambakam, situated in
the Chingleput district, midway between Con-
jeeveram, and Mahabalipuram, two very old
and important towns that played a most con-
spicuous part in the ancient history of Southern
India. For over five hundred years, from the
fifth century after Christ, the Pallavas, a power-
ful race of kings, carried on a constant warfare
with the Chalukyans, and the country between
these two ancient towns was the scene of many a
pitched battle between the two races. Ancient
inscriptions relate how the Pallavas were con-
stantly harassed by their enemies, how, con-
sequently, they held sway, at one time in Con-^

30 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

jeeveram, at another in Mahabalipuram, and
how badly the vanquished and their country
were treated by the victorious. The result of
this constant antagonism was that the country
became almost a deserted waste in spite of its
natural fertility. The soil is rich and the broad
Palar runs through it. The hand of man was
the only thing wanting to convert the arid
plains into smiling green fields. Of course,
we, who live under favourable conditions, may
be disposed to think that the picture I have
drawn exists only in imagination, but when we
read that, for nearly six centuries, there was
constant warfare, that the vanquished '* were
trodden to death by elephants in battle," and
that all the rules of modern warfare were un-
known in those days, we need not wonder that
the country between Conjeeveram and INIaha-
balipuram was most devoid of cultivation and
uninhabited. It was not till after the middle
of the eleventh century that a deliverer ap-
peared on the scene in the person of Adondai,
son of Kulotunga Chola, who finally put an end
to the conOict between the two contending races
and established his own supremacy with Con-
jeeveram for his capital. It was not till after

THE HEADMAN, 31

that time that peace was restored and the
•country settled down.

Kelambakam accordingly came into exist-
ence about the end of the eleventh century.
It comprises some fifty or sixty houses, and has
a population of about three hundred. The
most influential people in the village are Tuluva
Vellalas, and there are about ten families
belonging to that caste living in it. Tradition
says that Adondai, after he conquered the
country, brought people from the Tuluva
country to colonize his newly conquered domin-
ions, and that he gave them lands to cultivate
on easy terms. Even to this day we find
Tuluva Vellalas, a very respectable class of
people, scattered over the whole of Thonda-
mandalam — the country conquered by Adondai.
The headman of the village, or, as he is com-
monly called, the village munsiff, is Kothunda-
rama Mudelly, a Tuluva Vellala by caste. He
* owns some fifty acres of land in the village.
His father, a very pious man, left him the sole
heir of all his properties. His ancestors were
Saivites by religion, but the family, in common
with others, embraced Vaishnavism about the
1 2th or the 13th century, when the great

32 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

reformer Ramanuja went about the country
preaching and converting people. It was
about this time that the temple above-men-
tioned ■ and dedicated to KotJnindarayna was
built by one of the village munsiff 's ancestors
in his zeal for the religion which he had newly
embraced, and the present Kothundarama
Mudelly was named by his father after the
idol. The villagers place the highest con-
fidence in him. He is respected by the people
of the village, not so much owing to the fact
of his being the village munsiff as for his
sterling worth. He is

** beloved by all its men,
Their friend in times of need, their guide in life,
Partaker of their joys and woes as well,
The arbiter of all their petty strifes."

As village munsiff, the whole management of
the village is vested in him. He has the
power of deciding petty civil cases, and also of
trying persons for petty crimes. He can
impose slight fines and give a few hours
imprisonment. The imprisonment is not reaU
and the power of awarding it is scarcely exer-
cised. In the case of Sudras, the accused

THE HEADMAN. 33

person Is put in charge of the taliyari,
the village police peon, and in the case of
Pariahs and other low caste people the accused
person's hands or legs are shoved into a
wooden instrument with large holes, and the
criminal is made to remain in that humiliating
posture for several hours. This is the kind of
imprisonment the munsiff has the power of
administering, but, as I said before, he very
rarely exercises that power. The headman
has also the power of collecting revenues from
the ryots, of granting them receipts, and he
remits the money to the taluk treasury. He
must report to the head of the taluk (sub-
division of a district) serious cases of theft and
accidental deaths, send regularly a statement of
the rainfall of the village, and of births and
deaths, assist the authorities, revenue or other,
in their official duties, and even supply those
authorities with necessary provisions, when
they go there in their official capacity or for the
sake of pleasure. These with his own duties
of looking after the cultivation of his fifty acres
of land occupy a good deal of his time.
Kelambakam, which is situated on the road
between Conjeeveram and Tirukalukunram,

3

34 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE. f

where there is a very important Siva shrine,
is a halting place for religious mendicants i

travelling to and fro. To these Kothundarama
Mudelly every day distributes rice, and it is a '

pleasure to him to collect stray travellers
halting for the night in his village and take ;

supper with them. In the village, he has to do |

a thousand and one things. He has to settle \-

disputes arising between the villagers, preside \

at festivals, marriages, and other social gather- i f
ings. In short, he is the most important m^n • f
in the village, and well might he exclaim in the
words of Alexander Selkirk —

** I am the monarch of all I survey.
My right there is none to dispute."

Next in importance to Munsiff Kothun-
darama Mudelly is Ramasami Pillai, the
kurnam or the accountant of the village. He
has to keep a register of accounts. He is
expected to know the extent, name, rent, &c.,
of every field in the village ; he has to assist
the munsiff in preparing accounts, when money
is remitted. Whenever the villagers have
letters to write to relations, documents to be
executed and calculations of interest to be

THE ACCOUNTANT, 35

made, when disputes arise, the assistance of
the infalHble kurnam is invoked, as he is
considered to be the neatest writer and the
most accurate accountant of the village.
Ramasami Pillai is a mighty person in the
village, and he is also a wily person. There
is a Tamil proverb — " Confide if you will
in the young one of a crow, but never believe
the son of a kurnam." The kurnam, though
he may be a good man, has come to bs
regarded with distrust by the villagers, and
such is the case with Ramasami Pillai.
Nobody would dare to oppose him or incur
his displeasure. Nevertheless, the simple
villagers go to him whenever they have any
business transactions, for nobody else in the
village can perform their work so well as
he, and Ramasami Pillai calculated interest
so quickly, wrote documents so neatly and
accurately, and, readily gave out, without
reference to his register, whatever information
was wanted regarding each and every plot
of land in the village, that the people of
K^lambakam viewed him with admiration and
wondered —

" That one small head could carry all he knew."

36 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

Next comes Muthu Naick, the taliyari, or
the person who does the duties of the police
in the village. He is a tall, powerful, broad-
chested man, fair in complexion, of middle age,
and carries a strong bamboo stick, some six
feet in length. He has to assist the munsiff in
cases civil and criminal, and when persons are
convicted by the munsiff, Muthu Naick is the
jailor. He has to watch the villages at nights,,
patrol the fields when crops are ripe and see
that no thefts occur. He has also to go to the
treasury in charge of money when remittances
are sent from the village. Such are the duties
discharged by the village imnisiff, the knr7iam^
and the taliyari.

II.

The Hindu system of caste — The Purohita, or the astrologer —
The temple priests — The schoolmaster.

A THOUGHTFUL Englishman, who, I know, has
the true interests of India at heart, once
observed to me that the greatest stumbling-
block to the regeneration of India is caste.
Opinions are divided amongst earnest thinkers
with regard to this peculiar system which has
for ages existed in this country. But whatever
-may be the opinions held either in favour
of, or against, caste, it cannot be doubted for a
moment that this great social system has
played a most prominent part in the history of
India and has had a strong hold upon the
.minds of the people. The four castes, namely,
the Brahmin, the Kshathriya, the Vysia, and
•the Sudra, are said to have come from the
head, arms, loins, and feet of Brahma, and

38 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

each has for generations performed its allotted
work. While the Kshathriya, with the strength
of his arms, conquered new dominions and shed
his blood in securing peace to the country from
foreign aggression, while the Vysia toiled hard
and amassed wealth by tending cattle, by tilling
the soil and by trading, and while the Sudra
performed menial service, the Brahmin always,
carried the palm for intellectual greatness and
held the others under his magic influence. By^
the strength of his intellect he has moulded the
thoughts and guided the feelings of the people
to such an extent that a foreign observer may^
well stand amazed at the result.

" He waved the sceptre o'er his kind,
By nature's first great title mind."

So in Kelambakam, the Brahmin Ramanuja
Charriar, the Purohita, is the friend, guide, and
philosopher of the village. His influence over
the villagers is very great. He is a venerable
old gentleman of three score and ten years, well
versed in the Hindu Shastras. He knows a
little of Sanskrit and has read many books on
astrology. He could repeat by heart all the
four thousand stanzas of the sacred Prabhan^

. THE ASTROLOGER. 39

tham, usually called the Tamil Vedas. He is
considered by every villager as part and parcel
of his family, and the simple villager dare not
do anything without consulting him.

Ramanuja Charriar owns a house near the
temple of the village. It has a decent appear-
ance. On the floor near the entrance are
quaint figures drawn with rice powder, and on
the wall facing the street are to be seen re-
presentations of the coronation of Rama, of
Krishna tending cattle and playing on the flute,
of Narasimha killing the giant king, and many
other figures which at once convince the
stranger that the occupant of the house must
be a person steeped in religion.

The old gentleman rises very early in the
morning, bathes in the tank, puts on the usual
marks on his forehead and other parts of his
body, performs the Pujah and returns home.

He then sets out with a cadjan (palmyra
leaf) book, which is the calendar for the year,
and first goes to the house of the village
munsiff Kothundarama Mudelly. The munsiff,
as soon as he sees the Brahmin, rises and
salutes him, and asks him to take a seat. The
Purohita opens his book and reads from it in a

40 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

loud voice the particulars of the day — the year,
the month, and the date, the portions that are
auspicious and those that are not, &c. While
this recital goes on, the munsiff is all attention.
Soon after, an old woman, the mother of
Kothundarama Mudelly, steps in and asks the
astrologer on what day the new moon falls, and
when the anniversary of the death of her
husband should be celebrated. The munsiff
perhaps asks him if, according to his horoscope,
the year will on the whole be a prosperous one
for him and if his lands will bring forth abun-
dance of grain. To such questions, the Puro-
hita answers according to the rules of astrology.
He goes in like manner to the house of every
villager, and various are the questions put to
him. One villager asks him to appoint an
auspicious day for buying bullocks to plough
his fields ; another asks him to name a pro-
pitious hour for commencing the building of a
iiouse ; a third asks him to select a day for the
marriage of his aged daughter and shows him
the horoscope of his would-be son-in-law ; a
fourth asks him to fix a day on which to go to the
neighbouring village to bring his daughter-in-
law home; a fifth asks him when such and such

THE ASTROLOGER. 41

;a feast comes ; a sixth puts into his hands the
horoscope of his sick son and asks him if he
will recover ; a seventh requests him to prepare
the horoscope of his newly-born child and
furnishes him with the exact time v^hen the
•child first saw the light of day ; the next person
•complains to him about the loss of a jewel, and
-asks him to name the person who stole it, to
-describe the place where it is hidden, and so on.
To all these questions, the Purohita, opening
his book, gives suitable answers, and, to illus-
trate his statements, he even quotes Sanskrit
slokas, stanzas from the Raviayana, the
Mahabharatlia and the sacred Prabhantham,
and verses from works on astrology. These
quotations create very strong impressions, "for,
in the East," as Sir Walter Scott says, "wisdom
is held to consist, less in a display of the sage's
own inventive talents, than in his ready
memory, and happy application of, and reference
to, ' that which is written.' " Any instructions
given by him are obeyed to the very letter.
The ryots will not begin to cultivate, to sow
their lands, or to reap their harvest v^^ithout
-first consulting him as to the auspicious time.
The Brahmin also officiates as priest on

42 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

marriage and funeral occasions, and is the
principal actor during feasts, which are of
almost daily occurrence in a Hindu family.
There is a Tamil proverb which says that
*' The Vydian or the doctor will not leave the
patient till he dies, but that the Brahmin will
not leave him even after his death." Even
during the last moments of the patient the
doctor says that if he is given a handsome fee,
he will effect an immediate cure by administering-
a valuable medicine which is in his possession,,
and which was prepared by his great-grand-
father after a great deal of labour and expense.
He thus imposes upon the credulity of the
people till death snatches the patient from
them: the Brahmin's connection does not cease
with the death of the patient. He must
perform the first day's ceremonies, as also those
of the second, eighth, and sixteenth days. Then
come the monthly and yearly ceremonies, at
which the Brahmin plays an important part.

Such is a brief description of the old sage of
K^lambakam, whose influence even in the
neighbouring villages is very great, and whom
the villagers regard with feelings of deep
veneration.

PRIESTS OF THE TEMPLE. 43-

There are, besides the house of the Purohita,
two other houses near the temple belonging to
Brahmins who do work in the temple. In one
lives Varadayyangar and in the other his
brother Appalacharri. They perform the
Pujah of the temple by turns, and lead a very
easy life. Persons who ^o to the temple to
worship the idol take with them offerings in the
shape of money, fruit, coconuts, betel and nut,
&c. These are appropriated by the brothers.
There are about seven acres of land in the
village set apart for the temple, and the income
derived therefrom goes towards the expenses
incurred for the lighting of the temple, the daily
rice offerings, and the salaries of the servants ;
and, as the brothers are the principal servants
of the temple, they come in for a good share of
the income. Besides these, they get extra
income on festival occasions, when the idol is
decked with jewels and flowers and carried in
procession. Appalacharri is of a quarrelsome
disposition, and numerous have been the
disputes between the brothers with regard to
the temple income. Kothundarama Mudelly>
the Dhurmakurta, has often a good deal of
difficulty in settling their differences ; and he it

44 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

was who decided that they should do their
work by turns, and that each should receive
the income derived during his term of office.
Appalacharri, not content with quarrelling with
his own brother, has often employed his spare
time in fomenting quarrels among the villagers,
and were it not for the tact and good sense of
the village munsiff and the quiet nature of the
people of the village, Kelambakam would be a
different place from what it now is. Such a
mischievous disposition is that of Appalacharri
that a complete enumeration of his doings
would occupy a whole paper.

There are at the present moment scattered
throughout the length and breadth of Southern
India thousands of educated natives performing
honourable work with distinction both to them-
selves and to their country. Most of these sat
at the feet of such distinguished educationists
as Dr. Miller and Messrs. Porter, Powell, and
Thompson, and their veneration for their
former masters is as deep and sincere as that
held for the great master of Rugby by his
students. And if it is asked, why it is that, in
this country, kero<uo7'ship in the case of the
schoolmaster is carried to such an extent, I

THE SCHOOLMASTER. 45;

would reply that it is a characteristic of the:
Hindu to honour and respect his intellectual
guide. In India, the pial schoolmasters are an.
honourable body of men who do their work in.
an unassuming manner and enjoy the esteem,
and good will of the people.

Nalla Pillai is the schoolmaster of Kelam-
bakam, and he is next in importance to the
Purohita. He is a great-great-grandson of'
Nalla Pillai, the reputed author of the Mahab-
Jia7'atha in Tamil verse. Our village school-
master was named after him, and he knows by
heart all the fourteen thousand stanzas of the:
book. He preserves with pride and pleasure
the style with which his illustrious ancestor-
wrote his great work, and the style is worshipped
in his house every year on the Ayuthapuja day.
Nalla Pillai's school is located in the pial of his.
house. The attendance is between twenty and
thirty, and even boys from the neighbouring
villages come here to be instructed. The boys,
are seated in two rows on a raised basement in
the outer part of the house, and the master is.
seated at one end of the pial. There is a
radical difference between the system of in-
struction imparted in English schools and that

46 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

in vogue in these village seats of learning. In
the former a great deal of time and labour is
saved by having a number of boys conveniently
arranged into classes so that they may be all
taught at the same time. In the latter the
teacher goes through the lessons with each boy
separately. In the school of the village before
us, three or four youngsters, between five and
seven years of age, are seated in a row learning
the letters of the alphabet by uttering them
aloud and writing them on sand strewn on the
floor. One or two are writing the letters on
cadjan leaves. One boy is reading in a loud
voice words from a cadjan book, while another
reads short sentences. A third is working
sums in arithmetic. A fourth is reciting poeti-
cal stanzas in a drawling tone, and a fifth is
reading verses from Nalia Pillai's Maliabharatha
before the master, who, after the reading is
over, explains their meaning to the boy. A
boy is said to have completed his education if
he is able to read and write accurately anything
on a cadjan leaf and know the simple and com-
pound rules of arithmetic and simple interest,
and such proficiency may be attained after four
or five years' study in the village school.

THE SCHOOLMASTER. 47

The boys go to school before six in the
•morning, return home for breakfast at nine, go
l^ack to school at ten, and remain there till two,
^hen they are allowed to go for their midday
meal. They then return to school at three, and
remain there till it gets dark. Thus it will be
seen that the schoolmaster is at work from early
morn till eve, going through the lessons of each
individual boy. The school is closed for four
•days in the month, namely on the day of new
moon and the day after, and on the day of full
moon and the day after. The boys are also
■allowed leave on festival days.

The teacher, besides the remuneration paid
to him by the parents, not infrequently gets
extra income in the shape of money, new
•clothes, vegetables, &c., when boys are newly
sent to school and when marriages and festivals
take place. The schoolmaster is expected to
look after the children of the villagers and to
take an interest in their welfare not only in the
school but in their homes. If it is reported
that a boy is ill and that he refuses to take
medicine, the master is expected to go to his
house and see that the medicine is administered.
If a boy has an aversion to taking meals, or if

48 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

he becomes mischievous and troublesome out of
school hours, his parents at once invoke the
assistance of the teacher, who must go to the
house of the erring youth and see that such
things do not recur. The village master is thus,
constantly sought after by the villagers, and he
is their most useful friend.

I must not fail to notice that the village
teacher makes it a special part of his duty to.
give religious instruction. The work of the
school commences and closes every day with a
prayer to Saraszvati, the goddess of learning, r
Vigiieszi'ara, a Hindu deity supposed to preside
over the destinies of men. All the boys are
expected to get these prayers by heart and
repeat them aloud. The youths are also made
to get by heart during holidays some poetical
stanzas containing moral maxims on cadjan
leaves, at the top of which there always appears
some religious symbol or saying such as the
following : — Victory be to Rama ; Siva is every-
where. The boys are always taught to fear
God, to be honest and truthful, to venerate
their parents and superiors, and so on. It will
thus be seen that religious teaching forms a part
and a very important part in the work of a viU
laee schoolmaster.

THE SCHOOLMASTER, 49

Regarding the punishment inflicted on 'the
boys, I must say that Nalla Pillai is an honour-
able exception to those teachers who often have
recourse to the most barbarous modes of
chastising youths. I shall therefore not detain
my readers with an explanation of those modes
of punishment.

Besides the work that Nalla Pillai has in
the school, he is often engaged in the evening
reciting verses from the Mahabharatha and
explaining their meaning to the villagers.

" And oft at night when ended was their toil,
The villagers with souls enraptured heard him
In fiery accents speak of Krishna's deeds
And Rama's warlike skill, and wondered that
He knew so well the deities they adored."

From the above short description of the
village schoolmaster we see that he is a very
important element in the village constitution.
He is honoured and respected by the people,
and regarded by them as a friend and counsellor.
Recourse is constantly had to his assistance in
reading and writing letters and in the settling
of disputes. He is freely admitted to their
homes and invited on festival days. Nalla

4

50 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

Pillai does his work, day after day, month after
month, year after year, in an unostentatious and
quiet way, enjoying the esteem and good will
of all the villagers and the love of his pupils.

Ill

Hindu poetry— The physician— The carpenter— The blacksmith
—The shepherd— The story of the dull shepherd.

In speaking of Indian poetry, Dr. Miller, in his
introduction to my '* Tales of Ind," very justly
observed : — '* Whatever else she may have
wanted, India has never wanted poetry. In
some form, whether good or bad, whether high
or low, the poetic instincts of her children have
found expression in every succeeding age of her
chequered history." Her gifted sons wrote
poems that are read with delight and admiration
by the modern world. They wrote poetry, true
poetry, which purifies and ennobles man, which
** offers interesting objects of contemplation to
the sensibilities," and ** delineates the deeper and
more secret workings of human emotion." But
at the same time, our countrymen wrote poetry,
which is nothing more than mere vietrical com-

52 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

position, and it must be said that in India, more
than in any other country, poetry has degene-
rated so much that it has been used as a vehicle
for conveying information in almost every
conceivable subject. Our astronomy, our
astrology, and our works on medicine are
written in poetry, and only the other day I was
startled to hear an expert in valuing precious
stones quote stanza after stanza from an ancient
Tamil work describing the quality and colour of
rubies. The colour of a certain kind of rubies
the author compares to that of the blood of the
sparrow just killed. Another kind there is
whose colour is like that of the setting sun, and
so on. All this could very well be described in.
prose, but the author has foolishly spent a great
deal of time and labour in versifying what he
wanted to say. No doubt this mode of con-
veying information has its advantages. In aa
age when printing was unknown, when books
were written on cadjan leaves, it could not be
expected that people would possess a sufficient
number of books to read. Many valuable
Hindu works have been handed down to-
posterity in the same manner as the Greek
Rhapsodists are said to have handed down

\%

THE PHYSICIAN. 53

the poetry of Homer. They were committed
to memory and transmitted to succeeding gene-
rations— a process very much facilitated by the
fact that they were expressed in poetry.

I have been led to indulge in these general
remarks, because Appasami Vathiar, who is the
rjythian or physician of Kelambakam and who
is the next person claiming our attention,
always quoted from Vagadam, a Tamil work
on medicine written in verse. In describing a
•disease he quoted from Vagadam. In pre-
scribing medicines, he quoted from Vagadam^
and even in giving instructions to people in the
matter of diet, the same favourite Vagadam
was called into requisition. The Hindu's
reverence for anything old and mystical is very
great, and Appasami Vathiar was held in great
esteem by the people of Kelambakam and the
surrounding villages, because, in his practice,
he did not swerve one jot or tittle from what
has been laid down in Hindu works . on
medicine. It is a prevalent belief among
Hindus-— and Appasami Vathiar did much in
his own way to strengthen that belief — that our
forefathers attained perfection in medicine, and
that it is not capable of further improvement.

54 UFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

The general complaint is that the vythians
now-a-days do not read old Hindu books on
medicine, and practise it according to the direc-
tions given in them.

Our village doctor knows nothing of surgery.
He is a physician, pure and simple. He is a
Vtrasiva by religion, and is said to have read a
good many medical books. He is about fifty
years of age, and enjoys a very good practice.
He knows a little of astrology, but does not
claim to know so much of it as Ramanuja
Charriar, the Purohita, Like the Purohita and
the schoolmaster, he is honoured and respected
by the people of Kelambakam, and they have
implicit confidence in his skill and ability. He
carries with him all kinds of medicines in the
shape of pills and powders. He is said to
know the nature of a man's complaint by feel-
ing his pulse. He does not believe in the
efficacy of medicine alone, but always takes
care to impress upon the relatives of his patients,
the necessity of performing some religious-
ceremony or other to appease the anger of
the gods. The simple villagers have so much
faith in him that even if death takes away the
patient, they attribute it not to any want of skill

THE PHYSICIAN. 55

on his part, but to the stars that guided the

patient's destinies having been unfavourable.

Once Appasami Vathiar was absent from the

village for a number of days, and Kothun-

darama Mudelly, the village munsiff, was at

the time attacked with fever. It gradually

grew worse, and the village munsiffs relatives

beean to entertain orrave doubts about his

recovery. News of this was sent to the

vythian, who returned in haste to attend the

patient. It was early in the morning when he

entered the house of the village munsiff, and

there in the KtUam or hall he saw the patient

leaning upon his old mother and surrounded by

a number of sorrowing relatives and friends.

The Purohita was seated in one part of the hall

with some villagers looking at the sick man's

horoscope, making calculations and finding

whether the malady would prove fatal. But

the scene was changed the moment the vythian

entered the house and sat by the sick man.

The face of the old mother, down whose

wrinkled cheeks tears were flowing in

abundance, now . beamed with joy, and the

relatives who a minute ago were filled with

despair were now animated with hope. They

56 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

whispered to one another that Kothundarama
Mudelly's recovery was beyond all doubt. So •
sudden and complete was the transformation.
The vythian then felt the pulse of the sick
man and quoted some verses from the Vagadant
describing the malady, to which the mother
nodded her head and said that the symptoms of
the disease therein enumerated were noticed in
her sick son. Then said the vythian : ** The
malady has assumed serious proportions. Yama
is fast overtaking the sick person. Here is the
medicine Mrityunjayam (conqueror of death)
which will put a stop to his deadly course. This
medicine which my great grandfather prepared
with the assistance of a rich zemindar must be
continued for three days, and after that time the
patient must take another medicine Jivarak-
shamritham (the ambrosia that saves life),
which I prepared last year after consulting
many shastras, spending about five cartloads
of fuel, fasting for forty days, and feeding one
hundred mendicants. The patient will gradually
recover. But at the same time I must ask you
to light ten lamps in the temple every day and
feed six Brahmins till such time as the patient
recovers." So saying he took from his medicine

THE CARPENTER. 57

•pouch two pills, mixed them in honey, and

administered the same to the patient. Then

after giving instructions with regard to diet,

■&C., patiently answering the thousand and one

anxious questions put to him by the relatives of

the patient, and restoring confidence in .hem,

and after promising to return in the evening,

he departed. In ten days' time the patient

recovered, and this incident raised the vythian

all the more in the estimation of the people of

Kelambakam. Such is a short account of the

village doctor, Appasami Vathiar, in whose

skill the simple people of the village had the

greatest confidence and for whose integrity and

.high character they had the highest respect.

Next comes the carpenter Soobroya Acharry.
His business is to make ploughs (Indian ploughs
•are made of wood with an iron bar fixed to
the end) and all sorts of wooden implements
required for the purpose of cultivation. He
Jias to make carts and boxes and assist the
villagers in the construction of houses. The
village carpenter s work is not such as would
-excite the admiration of the beholder or be
considered worthy of being shown at an
exhibition. It is a plain, rough kind of work

58 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

just good enough to answer the purpose-
intended. Soobroya Acharry has also to
make for the villagers pestles and a number
of wooden instruments required for daily use.

After Soobroya Acharry comes Shunmugam^
the blacksmith of the village, who is required
to do his portion of the work in the construction
of houses and in the making of agricultural and
other implements. He has to make axes for
hewing down trees, sickles with which to reap,
corn, spades, crowbars, and a number of other
useful and necessary things. From the above
it will be seen that the carpenter and the black-
smith are very useful members of the com-
munity, and that their services are often called
into requisition by the villagers.

Another very important and useful member
of the community is Gopaula Pillai, the idciyan
or shepherd. He owns a number of cows and
buffaloes and supplies the villages with ghee
(clarified butter), milk and curds ; he also looks
after their cattle. He is a very busy man. He
rises early in the morning and goes to the
houses of the villagers to milk their cows, and
returns at about nine o'clock. In the mean-
time, his wife Seeta, who is a good model of a.

THE HERDSMAN. 59

busy helpmate, is engaged In cleansing the
cattle-shed, milking her own cows and buffaloes,
churning butter and selling milk and curds. As
soon as the cowherd comes home, he takes his
canji (boiled rice and water). He then goes
away with the cattle of the village to the graz-
ing fields. There are some fine pasture lands
at a distance of about two miles from Kelam-
bakam where the cowherds and shepherds of
other villages meet our ideiyan friend, Gopaula
Pillai. There, while the cattle graze, these
simple men beguile their time under the shade
of some tree in innocent talk or in some game..
The cowherd returns with the cattle to the
village at dusk and goes again to the houses of
such villagers as have cows, to milk them. He
returns home at about eight at night, and after
taking supper enjoys a well-earned sleep. It is
said that shepherds are dull and stupid, and there
are many stories current among the people
illustrative of this fact. Here is a story which
is often told : —

The Ideiyan.'

'Mong Hindu Castes, the Ideiyars are dull ;
Brains wanting, Nature gives them but a skull ;

* From the Madras Mai/.

«© LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

Hence as the Tamil proverb truly tells,
In nape of neck all ideiyan wisdom dwells.

One of this Jathi, who was far from wise,
Even in his lotus-faced pendatti's (wife's) eyes,
Resisted bravely with ideiyan might,
The entrance of one ray of wisdom's light.

She tried all arts as Hindu women can

On this unyielding matter — called a man.

>She coaxed him, boxed him, scolded him and squeezed;

Unchanged, he only ate, and slept, and sneezed.

Anon with honied words as poets sing,

She spoke : — he was lier guru, god and king.

Her neighbours smiled : — "when horses horned you see,

Your silent, senseless guru wise may be."

To cheer the villagers one day there came
The singer Thumbiran well known to fame ;
Of Rama, Seeta, Ravana, he sang,
And through bazaar and street his music rang.

Men left their homes and work, and came from far,
And hailed him as another Avatar : —
*' Ramayanam will make my husband wise,
-Perchance, and end my contless toils and sighs."

*So thought this good pendatti, strongly bent
On making wise her ideiyan lord, and sent
Him forth to hear the singer. He obeyed, —
As Ideiyars should, and listened undismayed.

In ideiyan posture, on his staff his chin
He rested, as to drink the nectar in.
A waggish neighbour saw his vacant stare,
Leapt on his back, and calmly listened there.

THE SHEPHERD. 6b

Part of the programe this, — the ideiyan deemed ;
A waggish trick his burden never seemed.
Thus seeking wisdom, stood he in the sun
Well weighted, listening till the song was done.

Then homeward, weary grown, if still not wise ;
Homeward to meet his lovely Seeta's eyes,
The hero went. She, through the window bars,
Peeped, waiting for his coming, — as the stars.

Hoping to see her ideiyan's face divine.
With light of new found wisdom brightly shine ;
'* What say you of Ramayanam ? " she began ;
He answered ; — " Tis as heavy as a man."

She whispered to the sky at this response ;
*' He born an ideiyan must die a dunce ; —
** Fate wills it, unreversed, while ages roll
** If Kamban cannot stir his boorish soul."

The above is one of the many stories current:
about the dulness and stupidity of the shepherd.
Nevertheless, he is honest, straightforward, andi
guileless. His wants are few and his cattle are
his only care. His lot in life has many a time
warned man not to pant after vain glory. It
has been the favourite theme of poets in all ages .
and in all climes, and the envy of philosophers.

IV.

The washerman—The potter— The barber and his wife, the
village midwife — The Pujari, or the priest of the village
goddess.

It is said that the village v/asherman has
scarcely leisure to attend to his own domestic
duties. This is no doubt true, for Munian, the
washerman of Kelambakam, is the most hard-
working member of the village. He rises early
every morning and. with an earthen vessel, goes
to the village in one direction, while his wife
goes in another, to collect dirty clothes. On
reaching the house of a villager, he informs the
people of his arrival by making a noise which
at once brings out a female, who hands over
to him such clothes as require washing, with
perhaps some special instructions in the case
of particular clothes, and then supplies him
with a handful of the Indian preparation called
kuhi — raggi flour cooked with broken rice —

THE WASHERMAN. 63

^hich he deposits in the earthen vessel. He
returns home at about nine or ten o'clock. His
wife returns at about the same time with a
potful of kulu and a bundle of clothes. They
then with their children partake of what they
have collected from the villagers, and go to the
river Palar with the dirty clothes to wash them.
There, with scarcely any intermission, they toil
hard in the heat of the sun, and by dusk they
have washed the clothes that were entrusted to
them in the morning. They then return to
the village and arrange the clothes of each
household with a precision which is most
astonishing, and which most probably gave rise
to the saying that a washerman is more useful
than an educated person. After this, they set
out to the village to deliver the clothes. This
time, instead of a pot, they carry each a basket
in which to carry the cooked rice supplied to
them by the villagers. They return home at
about nine or ten, take their supper and go to
sleep, which they have richly earned after a
hard day's toil. Even this little rest is denied
to the poor washerman whenever festivals are
celebrated in the temple or when dramatic per-
formances are given in the village, as on those

64 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

occasions he is expected to prepare torches with
torn clothes collected by himself, and look after
the lights. Thus, Munian, the washerman of
K^lambakam, with Lakshmi, his exemplary
wife and useful assistant, willingly performs,
without the least murmur, the arduous task
allotted to him in his little village world.

Another member of the village, as useful and'
almost as hardworking as the washerman, is-
Kuppusami, the potter, who toils at his wheel
day and night to supply the villagers with
earthen vessels. He has to make earthen
lamps, cooking vessels, huge jars for storing-
grain, bricks, tiles, &c., for building houses,,
drinking vessels and a hundred other things
required for an Indian household. He has
also to make figures of human shape, and such
like things for use in the temple of the village
deity. Any stranger going into the house of a
Hindu will at once be struck with the useful-
ness of the potter, when he finds whole rooms,
containing earthen vessels of different sizes and
shapes arranged like conically shaped pillars,,
each containing some article of human con-
sumption. On important festival occasions,
such as the Pungul, Kuppusami has to supply

THE BARBER. 65

every house in Kelambakam with new vessels,
and, on occasions of marriage, he has to prepare
big pots ornamented with quaint figures. His
assistance is also sought after in accidents when
bones are broken or fractured. I do not know
how the potter has come to be regarded as the
fittest person to treat such cases. Man, it is
said, is made of clay by Brahma, who is often
compared to a potter. And the potter, who
makes figures of human form is expected to
know the constitution of the human frame.
Hence probably arose the idea that he is the
fittest person to treat cases of fracture, &c.
Kuppusami is skilful in the treatment of such
cases, and his practice extends even to the
neighbouring villages.

After the potter, comes Kailasam, the
ambattan, the barber of the village. He also
is a very useful member of Kdlambakam. He
is the village hair-dresser. He is also the
musician of his village. Without music, no
festival can be celebrated in the temple, no
marriage or any other ceremony can take place
in an Indian household ; and on those occasions
kailasam and his people are required to play on
the flute, beat drums, &c. Kailasam is also the

5

66 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

surgeon of K^lambakam, and it is somewhat
difficult to account for the fact that barbers
have been allowed to practise surgery. They
are considered to be the fittest persons to treat
surgical cases, probably because, as barbers,
they handle the knife. Thoyamma, the wife
of Kailasam, is the midwife of the village.
Her attendance is also required every day,
morning and evening, to look after newly-born
infants, to bathe them, to administer to them
proper medicines and do many other things
which need not be enumerated here.

Every village in Southern India has a temple
built in honour of a goddess, who, it is said,
guards the village from all kinds of pestilential
diseases, such as smallpox, cholera, &c. The
name of the goddess of Kelambakam is
Angalammal, and the temple dedicated to
her is situated a few furlongs from the village.
Some lands in the village are allotted for the
due performance of puja in the temple, and
Angamuthu Pujaree, who performs the
necessary ceremonies, enjoys those lands.
When the country is afflicted with some
pestilence, the pujaree levies all sorts of con-
tributions from the simple villagers. To save

THE VILLAGE GODDESS. 67

'them from infectious diseases, they present the
•deity with gold and silver ornaments, cloths,
rice and vegetables, intoxicating liquors, sheep
and fowls. These the pujaree appropriates to
his own use. Worship in the temple of the
village goddess is of a very low kind. Animals
are sacrificed, intoxicating drugs are taken and
crude songs are sung. Hideous dances also
form part of the worship. Angamuthu Pujaree
is a very intelligent man, and practises his trade
with consummate skill. People from distant
parts go to him on Thursdays, when, it is said,
the spirit of the goddess Angalammal descends
upon him and with such help he foretells events.
With the pujaree the best art is to conceal art
itself, and the more he fulfils this condition the
more he succeeds and becomes popular. He
has to be possessed of a certain amount of
intelligence and tact if he is to perform his work
aright. He has to weigh well all the circum-
stances of a case, and then decide what are
suitable answers to give. Angamuthu Pujaree
often gives, like the oracle of Delphi, dubious
answers to questions put to him.

I was myself present with some of my friends
at one of these meetings in the temple of the

68 UFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

village goddess. There were then present
people from distant villages. There were
mothers with sick children. Near relatives of
persons supposed to be the victims of sorcerers
were there, anxiously waiting to get the
blessing of the goddess through her favoured
servant, the pujaree. There were collected in
that motley assembly barren women anxious ta
get children, young bachelors eagerly waiting
to know when they would get fair wives, and'
persons attacked with various kinds of disorders..
There were about three hundred persons
present on the occasion, some of whom came
from places ten or twelve miles distant from.
Kdambakam. The goddess was neatly clothed
and adorned with flowers. There was a black
cane near the deity, which was afterwards used
by the pujaree for driving out devils. Fruits
and flowers and other presents there were in
abundance, and there were also one or twa
bottles of intoxicating liquors, camphor and
other things. The pujaree, after bathing and
besmearing his body with ash, came and sat
before Angalammal, to the immense delight
of the expectant crowd. His assistants, with
jingling instruments, sang some curious songs

A MEETING IN THE TEMPLE, 69

-extolling the virtues of the goddess. The
pujaree was all the while sitting in deep
meditation. Then suddenly he swooned and
fell down. Shortly after, he rose, took some
liquor, and with a vigour and energy that would
have done credit to the strongest acrobat,
danced and jumped and made a most hideous
and disgusting noise. Camphor was soon
lighted. He took a long sword and inflicted
all sorts of wounds on his body. The spirit
•of the goddess, it was said, had now fairly
descended on him, and the terror-stricken
people all gazed upon him with contending
hopes and fears, to catch eagerly whatever
was vouchsafed to them by their goddess
through her servant. Then in deep clear
tones, Angamuthu Pujaree uttered the follow-
ing words : " A person of the male sex has
come here to question me regarding a female
relative. Let him come forward." There was
<leep silence and no one ventured to come
forward. Again the pujaree said in a threaten-
ing tone : *' I know the person. He is come
here. Let him step forward without the least
delay and kneel before me. If he does not, I
will punish him." Immediately, a middle-aged

TO LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

person knelt before the pujaree and said :
** Have mercy upon me O mother, I have come
here to ask you if my sick wife will recover.'*
The pujaree answered : " Your wife would have
recovered long ago ; but you have incurred my
displeasure and to appease my anger you must
sacrifice a sheep, and then your wife will
recover." So saying the pujaree gave some
ash to the supplicant to be smeared over his.
wife's body. Then said the pujaree : " A
barren woman is here to ask me to bless her
with a child. Where is she ? " In due course,
a young woman came forward, and to her he
said : *' You must for the next forty days bathe
early in the morning and go round my temple
nine times daily. You must take only one
meal a day. And at the end of these forty
days you must present me with a new cloth.
You shall then be blessed with a child." After
receiving some ash, the young woman retired.
Then again the pujaree said : *' A mother is.
come here with a sick child ; let me see her."
Immediately a sorrow-stricken woman placed a
sick child before him. He threw some ash on.
the child and said : " Your child will recover ia
a fortnight, but do not fail to offer me a fowl.'"

SUPERSTITIONS. 71

" Yes, mother, I will do so," said the woman,
and retired. In this way the pujaree put
general questions, and people with various
requests came forward. Suitable replies were
vouchsafed to them, but the pujaree in every
instance took care to ask various kinds of offer-
ings. In the end, two things startled me, and
I for a time at least thought the pujaree a
veritable seer. The pujaree said : " A young
man is come here to test me with a lemon
concealed about him. He wishes to know
when he will get married. Let him stand
before me." Out stepped the young man, and,
trembling with fear, delivered the lemon which
he had kept concealed. Then again, the
favoured servant of the goddess said : " An
old man came to me last Thursday and said
that, owing to the doings of a sorcerer, his son
was suffering from various kinds of disorders."
When the old man came forward, he continued :
** Your enemy with the help of a sorcerer hid
last month at midnight an earthen vessel in
which are deposited human bones. So long as
that vessel remains where it is, your son will
not recover. Go now, with a dozen people
from the assembly, and take out the vessel

72 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

which is buried in the north-eastern corner of
the cattle-shed of your house, some four feet
and a half from the wall. Take it out and
bring it to me." Immediately a number of
people left the assembly and the pujaree went on
attending to those who remained. Those who
went, found in the exact spot described by
the pujaree a vessel answering to his descrip-
tion, which they unearthed and brought to him,
to the great amazement of the people assembled.
The pujaree took it, and addressing the old
man, said: *' Go now. Your son will from this
moment be all right.'* So saying he uttered
an unintelligible 7nantra7n and dashed the
vessel to the ground.

With regard to the first of the above incidents,
I came to know a few days afterwards that the
young man who came with the lemon un-
wittingly confided his secret to Appalacharri,
one of the pujaree's secret agents, who freely
mingled with the people as spectators. Appa-
lacharri went and gave the information to the
pujaree beforehand. The only possible explana-
tion of the second is that the pujaree's assist-
ants must themselves have buried the vessel
with its contents.

THE END OF THE PUJAREE. 75

The pujaree, it will thus be seen, is a most
-deceitful person practising his trade with success
among the ignorant villagers. Happily under
the benign British rule education is spreading
fast, and the intelligence of the country is ad-
vancing at a rapid rate, and the day is not far
distant when the wretched class of men, one of
whom I have in the above pages tried to depict,
Avill soon have vanished off the face of the land.

The Panisiva — Account of the dispute between the Panisiva and
the potter, and the part played therein by the Brahmia
Appalacharri— The Shylock of Kdlambakam — The dancing^
girls — The story of the shepherd and his wife.

When in olden days rules were framed for
the proper management of Indian village con-
stitutions, and particular duties were assigned to
particular individuals, there were no easy hieans
of communication in the country. It was there-
fore found necessary to have a separate class
of men — the Panisivas — to carry to friends and
relatives invitations to weddings, funerals, and
special festival occasions, which, as I said in
one of my previous papers, are of almost daily
occurrence in Hindu families. The word
Panisiva means literally one who serves ; and
Kanthan, the Panisiva of Kc^lambakam, is a
hardworking, faithful, and willing servant of the
villagers. He is required to blow the conch-

THE PANISIVA. 75

shell during funerals, to serve betel and nut
during marriages and festivals, to go even to
distant villages to invite friends and relations to
take part in those celebrations, and to do what-
ever other work is allotted to him on those
occasions. By hard work and by the good*
will of the people of the village, he managed
till very recently to live a happy life and everk
to save some money, The Brahmin Appa-
lacharri very cleverly brought about an un-
necessary quarrel between Kanthan, the
Panisiva, and Kuppusami, the potter, they
being neighbours, and by his scheming kept up
the quarrel for some time. The result was
that both of them figured many a time in the
law courts, and learnt some very wholesome
lessons after the expenditure of a good deal of
money.

This is how the dispute arose. One day
when Appalacharri was sorely in need of money,
he went to the potter, who was toiling at his
wheel, and very cleverly drew him into a con-
versation, in the course of which he said : •* You
know, Kuppusami, that there are two palmyra
trees standing in the hedge, which separates
your backyard from that of Kanthan. He

76 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

-enjoys their tender nuts and fruits. I do not
see why you should not enjoy them also.
Those trees stand in a common hedge, and in
fact it is my strong conviction that they belong
•exclusively to you, and that the Panisiva has no
right whatever to them." To this the potter
said : " Yes, Swami ! I also am entitled to enjoy
the produce of the trees. I am sure to succeed
if I can secure the assistance of one like you."
** Do not be afraid," said the Brahmin, ** the
trees and the hedge will be yours." He then
ask the potter to assist him with some money,
which was willingly given.

The next day, Appalacharri sent for the
Panisiva, and with the skill and tact so peculiar
to him spoke about the hedge and the palmyra
trees. *' I know," he said, *' the village head-
man Kothundarama Mudelly knows, and every
one in the village also knows, that your father
planted the two palmyra trees in your backyard,
and who is there but you entitled to enjoy
them ? But the potter complained to me
yesterday that you unjustly enjoy the tender
nuts and the fruits. He says that he is entitled
to a portion, if not the whole of the produce.
I know that his demand is very unjust. But

THE POTTER'S DISPUTE. yy

let me, as one that takes a deep interest in your
welfare, tell you in all sincerity that he means
some mischief; and before he does anything of
that sort, see that you at once enclose the trees
with prickly pear. If after that he tries to
annoy you, come and tell me without a
moment's delay." The Panisiva answered :
Great Swami ! I have no one else but you to-
assist me. I implore you on my feet to save
me from the misdoings of my neighbour.
Kuppusami.'* " You can count upon my assist-
ance," said the Brahmin. He then took some
money from the poor Panisiva and sent him
away with all sorts of assurances.

On the third day, the potter came running to
Appalacharri and said : " My great Guru ; you
assured me the day before yesterday that I
am the sole owner of the trees in the backyard,,
and that I alone am entitled to their produce.
But last evening Kanthan fenced them round
with prickly pear. You promised to use all
your influence to secure for me the ownership of
the trees as also the hedge. Here, my saviour,
is some money for your gracious acceptance ;
please advise me what further I am to do."
The Brahmin took the money, and advised him

78 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

to go at once and pull down the fence. This
was done, and immediately the Panisiva ran to
Appalacharri with some money and told him
that the potter had pulled down the fence ; he
then fell at Appalacharri's feet, cried like a
<:hild, and begged of him to do all that could
be done. To this the Brahmin angrily said :
'* You are a fool ; you cry like a child. You
should have manfully kicked the potter, when
he removed the fencing. Here I will write a
complaint for you ; go and lodge it at once
before the magistrate." The complaint was
thrown out, as the dispute was said to be of a
civil nature. The Panisiva then filed a civil
suit. During the progress of the suit the court
had to appoint a commissioner to inspect the
spot and submit a report, and during all this
time Appalacharri exacted as much money as
possible from both. In the end, after the lapse
of two years of anxious care and toil and after
the expenditure of a large sum of money, the
Panisiva s yi'sX title to the trees was recognized
by the court, and the foolish potter, who was
unwillingly dragged into the quarrel, learnt a
-dearly bought lesson. Thus were two simple
villagers nearly ruined by unnecessary litigation

THE VILLAGE SHYLOCK. 79

cleverly brought about by the wily machinations
of an uncrupulous Brahmin.

The person next claiming our attention is
Muthusami Chetty, the Shylock of K^lam-
bakam, and he is not one whit better than the
leech-like village usurer, about whom one hears
so much nowadays. This man, who belongs
to the trading class, lives in a strong, well-built
house to which is attached a spacious granary.
He owns the only bazaar in Kelambakam, and
it is located in the pial of his house. He
makes periodical visits to the nearest town, and
buys whatever articles of consumption are
required for his village. These he sells either
for money or for grain. The system of paying
revenue to Government in money and by
monthly instalments, from. December to May,
is very favourable to the money-lending classes
of the community, and it has been and still is
the means of easily enriching them and making
them more prosperous than the rest of the
people. The villager who is in need of say
a hundred rupees for paying Government
revenue, has simply to go to our Chetty friend,
who gives the required amount, on the condition
that it is repaid in grain at the harvesting season.

8o LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

No interest is charged by the money-lender.
Now the average price of paddy during the
harvesting season, wrhich commences in January
and extends till March, is 27 measures for a
rupee. Thus the villager, who borrowed one
hundred rupees, has to give the money-lender
2,700 measures of paddy. ' This the latter
stores in his granary, and sells in July, August,,
and September, when the average market price
is 19 measures for a rupee; so that Muthusamt
Chetty's one hundred rupees amount to nearly
one hundred and fifty rupees in about six
months. This arrangement tells very heavily
upon the cultivating classes, but they cannot
help it. Again, whenever they have to buy
bullocks for ploughing, when they have to build
houses, to marry their sons or daughters, or to
perform funeral ceremonies in honour of de-
parted relatives (and marriages and funeral cere-
monies are very expensive in Hindu families)^
they must go to the village usurer and borrow
money on the same rigid conditions. Here^
indeed, is a splendid opportunity for Hindu
capitalists. Instead of devising all sorts of
means for investing their capital, they should
start agricultural banks and lend money to the

THE USURER. 8i

cultivating classes. By so doing they would
not only get fair interest for their money, but
would-be the means of saving thousands of
families from ruin, of making them more
prosperous and happy, and of effacing a class
of people who live upon the labour of others,
and are draining the life-blood of the agricul-
tural population of the land.

Our village usurer Muthusami Chetty is a
cunning and clever man of business. He looks
after his bazaar, keeps the accounts regularly,
and does all the business himself without the
assistance of a clerk. He is also a very safe
man, and does not give offence to people even
when they give him cause to do so. He aims
at pleasing each and every one in the village,
and the following story which I heard of him
illustrates very well this characteristic. One
day, two persons, who went to make purchases
from his bazaar, unfortunately quarrelled. Hot
words were exchanged, and, notwithstanding
Muthusami's remonstrances, words came to
blows. In the end, both complained to the
magistrate, and both cited the Chetty as their
witness. He, to please both, addressed the
magistrate thus : *' Maharajah ! I have been un-

6

82 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

necessarily dragged here to give evidence.
One day these two persons now standing before
your august presence, came to my bazaar to
buy certain articles. They quarrelled and each
abused the other. They were about to come
to blows, when I grew nervous and closed my
eyes, and instantly I heard the sound of beat-
ing. This is all that I know."

Those who devote their time to a study of
Hindu society and its institutions are very
much puzzled to find Ddvaciasis, a class of
women consecrated to God's work, openly
practising prostitution. These wretched people
are required to sweep the temple, ornament the
floor with quaint figures drawn in rice flour,
hold before the idol the sacred light called
KumbJiarati, dance and sing when festivals
are celebrated, fan the idol and do many other
similar things. The word Ddvadasi literally
means servant of God, and it seems strange
that a person dedicated to the service of God
should lead a low and degraded life.

In Kelambakam there are two dancing girls,
Kanakambujam (golden lotus) and Minakshi
(fish-eyed). They are the Ddvadasis of the
temple of Kotlmndarama in the village, and

THE DANCING GIRLS. 33

they do service by turns, for which they receive
an allowance from the temple endowment.
Kanakambujam is the concubine of Rajaruthna
Mudelliar, a burly, thick-necked zemindar of a
neighbouring village, and Minakshi is in the
keeping of our old friend Appalacharri, although
• at times the Brahmin has no scruples in acting
the part of a go-between for some money
consideration to those who may wish to buy his
concubine's smiles. There is a good deal of
what is termed " professional jealousy " between
the two dancing girls, and on this account
constant disputes arose between the Mudelliar
and the Brahmin, which at last culminated in
their being carried to a criminal court for
settlement. The Mudelliar lodged a complaint
with the- magistrate against Appalacharri for
assault and abusive language; and the Brahmin,
knowing that his opponent would be cowed and
willing to buy peace at any price, wantonly
cited as his witnesses the zemindar's wife and
aged daughter, who lived in a neighbouring
village and who therefore knew nothing of the
dispute. The magistrate was well aware that
the action of Appalacharri was simply vexatious,
and was therefore unwilling to order their

84 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

appearance in court, but the clever Brahmit>
insisted on their being called to give evidence^
as they were the only witnesses that could
prove his innocence. The poor Mudelliar had'
in these circumstances no other alternative but
to withdraw his complaint. Appalacharri is
even to this day continually harassing his.
enemy, much to the delight of his concubine,
but poor Mudelliar simply bears all this as
meekly as possible.

During marriage occasions, when a number
of people congregate together to witness the
ceremony, Hindu females will not attend on the
brides and look after them for fear of being
gazed at by the people. Hence the dancing
girls act the part of bridesmaids. Their duty
is to dress the bride, adorn her with jewels,,
conduct her to the bridegroom and adjust her
posture on the bridal seat. They are also-
required to dance and sing before the villagers
on these occasions.

There is still another man in Kelambakam,.
who is, however, not a permanent resident of
the village. He makes periodical visits to his
house once a week or so, to see his wife and
children. His name is Narayana Pillai, and

THE SHEPHERD AND HIS WIFE. 85

he looks after his sheep in the plains. In my
account of Gopala Pillai I gave a story
illustrative of the proverbial dulness of the
shepherd class. My readers will pardon me
for introducing here another story to the same
effect.

The Shepherd and his Wife Seeta.

A shepherd youth, the dullest of his class,
Was wedded to a lovely shepherd lass ;
And to her father's house the bridegroom went
To feast on all the good things for him meant.

His only cloth around his waist he wore,
His stupid head a heavy turban bore ;
For once, his flock forgot, his only care.
He went to eat and to be merry there.

He thought of none but Seeta on the way,
And reached her father's house at close of day.
He entered, but the door-posts kept in check
Him and the staff that rested on his neck.

He moved, but still they kept him back, when lo I
There came, bending her head, a buffalo,
With horns as long as his own faithful staff,
And freely passed to feed upon the chaff.

Thus taught our shepherd entered in, and of
A hearty meal partook ; then, heedless of his love.
Retired, and till next morning soundly slept,
While she all night her sad fate cursed, and wept.

VI.

Remarks on slavery in India — The pariahs — Mayandi, the head-
man of the Parcherry — The Valluvan — The chuckler — The
Villee— The Korathy— The Korathy's lullaby.

The term slavery conveys different ideas when
considered in connection v/ith different nations
by whom it is practised. To a nation which is
cold and strictly logical, which has "an unflinch-
ing courage to meet the consequences of every
premise which it lays down and to work out an
accursed principle, with mathematical accuracy,
to its most accursed results," all the horrors of
slavery so graphically and feelingly described
by historians and writers of fiction may doubt-
less appear to be true, and all the rules of the
slave code that "reduces man from the high
position of a free agent, a social, religious,
accountable being, down to the condition of the
brute or of inanimate matter," may appear to be
just. But to a nation that is " by constltutloa

INDIA N SLA VER Y, 87

more impulsive, passionate, and poetic," those
rules may appear to be illegal, unjust, and
even sinful. To Hindus, who are a nation of
philosophers and abstract thinkers, who give
only a secondary place to the practical side of
things, and who are taught by their sacred
writings not to cause the least injury to even
the lowest of God's creatures on pain of some
dreadful punishment in a future state, slavery
means a mild and perhaps an acceptable form
of servitude. Hence it is that while in other
countries philanthropists like Wilberforce and
Theodore Parker have had to put down what
has unhappily debased humanity for centuries,
there exist in India even at the present day
some traces of that kind of slavery which even
in its worst days had no objectionable features
in it. And this perhaps is owing to the peculiar
characteristic of the country where agriculture
forms the chief occupation of the people. In
every village in Southern India will be found a
parcherry in which live the pariahs^ who in a
way answer to the description of slaves in other
countries.

In my previous papers, I described the
persons living in the main group of buildings

88 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

in K^lambakam. There is yet another group
of buildings which is included in the village. It
is smaller in size, and is at a distance of two or
three furlongs from the main group. There are
about thirty dwellings in this group, all of them
thatched, and some so small that a foreigner
might well stand aghast at the number of people
living in them. They are built with no pre-
tensions to order or arrangement, and each has
a backyard in which are invariably to be seen
tamarind, palmyra, coconut and other trees.
During a good part of the year the thatched
roofs are grown over with pumpkin and other
vegetables, thus presenting a pleasing appear-
ance. This group of dwellings is called the
parcherry of Kelambakam, where the pariahs,
the lowest class of people in Hindu society, live.
There are about one hundred pariahs living
here, and they are the servants of the land-
owners of the village. They are paid in grain.
Each pariah servant in Kelambakam is paid
every month at the rate of six merkals of paddy,
i.Cy forty-eight measures. The average price
of these forty- eight measures is between two
and tv/o and a half rupees (between four and
five shillings). From this it will be seen that

MA YANDI. 89

labour in South Indian villages is very cheap.
P^'or their low wages, the pariahs are required
to be at their masters' bidding from early morn
till the close of day. They have to plough the
lands, sow paddy, water the fields, weed them,
sleep in the fields when the crops are ripe, reap
and thrash the corn,- and do a hundred other
things.

Mayandi is the headman of the parcherry of
Kelambakam, and he is about eighty years of
age. He served under KothundaramaMoodelly's
father and grandfather. He has five sons, all
grown-up men, serving under Kothundarama
Moodelly and cultivating his fifty acres of land.
When the pariahs have disputes to settle, they
go to Mayandi for advice. Once in his youth-
ful days some robbers entered the house of
Kothundarama Moodelly's father, and with a
daring and courage that were very highly
spoken of at the time the pariah encountered
the robbers and dispersed them. While de-
fending his masters house from plunder, he
received some very severe wounds. This
incident he would relate to his sons and to the
•other pariahs of the village. He would show
them with pride the scars on his body and ask

90 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

them to follow his good example, to love their
masters, and be faithful to them. Now the
^' venerable figure of the old man may be seen in
the streets of the village, and he gives glowing
pictures of the days when rice was sold at
twenty-four measures for one rupee, when livings I

was cheap, when there were periodical rains, \

and when the lands of the village produced
twice as much as they do now.

When the village is attacked with cholera,
smallpox, and other pestilential diseases, the
village munsiff and others in K^lambakam
invariably consult old Mayandi and ask him
how in former days the villagers who have
passed away acted in such emergencies.

The pariahs serve the same family from
generation to generation. They dare not
accept service under other masters. Whenever
marriages are performed in the master's house,
the pariah servant gets married at the same
time. For instance, when the village headman,
Kothundarama Moodelly, was married, two of
Mayandi's sons were also married. When a
member of the master's family dies, the pariah
servant and his whole household must go into-
mourning, and on the sixteenth day, when the

THE PARIAHS. 91

funeral ceremonies are performed and the
relatives of the deceased bathe in a tank, the
pariah and his people go through the ceremonies
and bathe in the same tank, thus showing that
they are as much interested in the matter as the
master. When the pariah servant is to be
married, the first thing he does is to go with all
his people to the master's house with fruit
and flowers and obtain his permission for the
marriage. When there are family disputes
among the pariahs, masters are invariably
consulted. From the above it will be seeni
that slavery in a mild form exists in Indian
villages, and until quite recently what is called
Muri Sifttc (literally slavery agreement) was in
vogue. But this practice of executing slavery
agreements is happily fast dying out.

The pariahs are as a class hardworking,
honest, and truthful. In watering the fields, in
reaping the corn and in other things, they show
that they are capable of very hard work. They
begin at five in the morning and go on working
without intermission till ten or eleven o'clock ;
they begin again at three in the afternoon, and
do not cease till six or seven in the evening.
They are honest, and zealously guard the

•92 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

interests of their masters. Although during the
harvesting time the masters may be absent, the
pariahs will not appropriate to their own use
one grain of corn or take any undue advantage
of their masters absence. When the corn is
ripe they sleep in the fields and honestly watch
•their masters' property.

They are also truthful. Lately an incident
'took place in Kelambakam which illustrates
very well this trait in their character. Our old
Brahmin friend Appalacharri was constantly
quarrelling with a neighbouring landowner
whose lands were being gradually encroached
upon. The good-natured villager patiently
bore all the aggressive acts of the Brahmin, but
he was so persistently and continually harassed
that he one day lost his temper and abused the
Brahmin. There were present at the time two
pariah servants of the villager, and Appalacharri,
who was keen enough to know the truthful
character of the pariahs, filed a criminal
<:omplaint against his opponent and cited the
two pariahs as his witnesses. They spoke the
truth and thus deposed against their own
master. The poor man was punished, and
Appalacharri went away successful.

THE CHUCKLER. 9^

The vallnva7's are the people who officiate
as priests among pariahs during marriages and
funerals. These people take pride in the fact
that Tiruvalluvar, the reputed author of the
celebrated Rural, was a valluvar. The
valluvar of the pariahs of Kelambakam lives
in a neighbouring village, and his name is
Krishnan. He officiates as their priest on
marriage and funeral occasions and gets a small
fee for his services. He knows a little of
astrology, and practises medicine in a rude form.
Some years ago he was brought up before a
court of sessions and was convicted for causing
abortion to a woman of ill-repute.

Such are the illiterate pariahs, a unique class
of men, whose pure lives and noble traits of
character are in every way worthy of admira-
tion, and whose occupation invests them with
considerable importance in India, which is
essentially an agricultural country.

The person next claiming our attention is
Lakshrnanan, the chuckles He is entided to
the hides of the animals which, die in the
village. He prepares leather in a rough sort
of way, and makes shoes, drums, &c., for the
people. Lakshmanan owns an acre of land in

^ LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

the village which he cultivates, besides attending
to his business of supplying the villagers with
leather whenever they require it.

Balan, the vi/lee of Kelambakam is a very
interesting person. He reminds us of the
naked savages of whom we often read in
histories. He lives with his wife and children
in a small hut at the distance of a mile from the
village. He gathers honey, roots, medicinal
herbs and other forest produce, which he takes
to the village and exchanges for grain. He
has acquired some reputation as a snake-
charmer, and people from the surrounding
villages go to him for scorpion and snake bites.

The marriage customs of the villee people
are very curious. The bride and bridegroom
sit in an open plain on a low wooden seat,
surrounded by a number of their caste men.
The old men among them present the couple
with new clothes, and then at the appointed
hour, amidst the vociferous shouting of those
assembled, the bridegroom ties round the neck
of the bride a string of black beads. The
married persons then go round the wooden seat
a number of times, after which the marriage is
said to be completed. The people then sit

THE TATTOO ER. 95

together to eat, drink, and be merry. The
name of their deity is Valleeammai, and at night
a number of people join together and praise
their deity in language which sounds very
curious and which baffles even the most learned
philologist. The villee people live mostly on
leaves and roots.

Ponny is the name of the korathyy who goes
about the villages selling mats and baskets,
and, as she is also a tattooer, she might often
be seen in Kelambakam offering her services
for a small fee. Hindu females are very fond
of having their bodies tattooed, and Ponny
consequently carries on a successful trade.
The korathy first makes a sketch of the figure
of a scorpion or a serpent on the part of the
body offered to her for tattooing, then takes a
number of sharp needles, dips them in some
liquid preparation which she has ready, and
pricks the flesh most mercilessly. In a few
days the whole appears green. This is con-
sidered a mark of beauty among the Hindus.
While the tattooing takes place, the korathy
sings a crude song so as to make the person
undergoing the process forget the pain. The
following is as nearly as possible a translation
of the song which I myself heard.

96 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

The Korathy's Lull.\by.

Slay, darling, stay — 'tis only for an hour,

And you will be the fairest of the fair.

Your lotus eyes can soothe the savage beast,

Your lips are like the newly blossomed rose,

Your teeth-^they shine like pearls ; but what are they \

Before the beauties of my handiwork ? ■

Stay, darling, stay — 'tis only for an hour,

And you will be the fairest of the fair. [

I've left my home and all day hard I toil J

So to adorn the maidens of the land ;

That erring husbands may return to them ; 1

Such are the beauties of my handiwork. ^

Stay, darling, stay — 'tis only for an hour, |

And you will be the fairest of the fair. \

In days of old fair Seeta laid her head t

Upon the lap of one of our own clan, ^

When with her lord she wandered in the wilds \

And like the emerald shone her beauteous arms. :"

\

Stay, darling, stay — 'tis only for an hour, I

And you will be the fairest of the fair. |

And often in the wilds, so it is said.

She also of the Pandus went in quest

Of one of us, but found not even one.

And sighed she was not like her sisters blest.

Stay, darling, stay — 'tis only for an hour,
And you will be the fairest of the fair.
My work is done ; rejoice, for you will be
The fairest of your sisters in the land.
Rejoice for evermore, among them you
Will shine as doth the moon ani^ng the stars.

VII.

The Indian village constitution — Hindu women — A conversation
among the women of the village of K^lambakam— Duriyo-
dana's love for Subathira, and the sad result.

I HAVE in the preceding papers described the
various classes of people in the village of
Kelambakam. It will be seen that this village
is a little world in itself, having a government
of its own and preserving intact the traditions
of the past in spite of the influences of a
foreign government and a foreign civilization.
Every member of the little state of Kelam-
bakam regularly performs the duties allotted
to him, and everything works like a machine.
Those that render service for the upkeep of
the village constitution are either paid in grain
or have some lands allotted to them to be
cultivated and enjoyed free of rent. Those
that are paid in grain present themselves
during the harvest time at the threshing-floor ;

7

98 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

and when the villager gathers his corn and is
ready to remove it to his house, he distributes
a portion to each of the village servants,
according to the nature and importance of the
service rendered to him throughout the whole
year. And these simple, honest villagers earn
their livelihood year after year by toiling hard
from early morning till the close of day, leading
a peaceful and contented life, living happily
with their wives and children in their humble
cottage homes and caring for nothing that goes
on beyond their own little village. Well has
it been observed by Professor Max M tiller —
*' To the ordinary Hindu, I mean to ninety-nine
in every hundred, the village is his world, and
the sphere of public opinion with its beneficial
influences seldom extends beyond the horizon
of his village." The doings of those who
govern them and things political are nothing
to them. It is enough for them if Providence
blesses them with periodical rains, if their lands
bring forth plenty to sustain them and their
children and to preserve unruffled the quiet
even tenor of their lives. This policy of
non-interference and indifference to what passes
outside his own sphere has been the main

INDIAN AMUSEMENTS. 99

characteristic and, in fact, the guiding principle
of the Indian villager from time immemorial,
and hence arose the very familiar saying which
€very Hindu knows to quote, and to quote
with gushing acceptance of the idea conveyed
hy it—" What does it matter to us, whether
Rama administers the country or the Rakshasas
{giants) ? "

Life in K(ilambakam, with its fifty or sixty
dwellings inhabited by a few hundreds of
people, is full of interest. The villagers get
up various kinds of amusements, which brhg
them often together. In civilized countries,
public amusements are authorized on a very
Srand scale ; they often cost a great deal, and
the best talent available is secured to please the
people. But the amusements indulged in by
the Indian villagers entail little or no expense,
though their enjoyment derived from them is
Jione the less keen. I shall in the following
papers describe the various sports and pastimes
got up by the people of K^lambakam, which
now and then relieve the dull monotony of their
life. But before doing so, I wish to say a few
words regarding the women of the village.
In eastern countries women are said to hold

loo UFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

a subordinate position. The charge has often
been made that in India they are bartered as
slaves, that they are useful to man only in so
far as they minister to his comforts, and that
they are simply child-bearing machines. But
European countries owe their proud position
to the fact that women are honoured and
respected and are accorded a superior position.
There what is called love is not mere bestial
passion, but something more. Such are the
views thrust upon us in season and out of
season by certain writers who pretend to know
intimately the manners and customs of the
Hindus. But the keen observer of the inner
life of Hindu society will have no difficulty m
discovering that the above picture is overdrawn,,
and that the poorest Indian villager loves his
wife as tenderly and as affectionately as the
most refined mortal on earth, and that in his
obscure cottage, *' unseen by man's disturbing
eye,'* love shines,

" Curtained from the sight
Of the gross world, illumining
One only mansion with her light'*

True it is that our women do not freely
mingle with the other sex, but they congregate

HINDU WOMEN. loi

together almost daily near such places as public
wells and tanks. There they enjoy the
pleasures of society as keenly as their sisters
of the West and indulge in all sorts of idle
talk, invariably commenting on the latest
scandal of the village. The women of Kelam-
ibakam rise very early in the morning, clean
their teeth, wash their faces, sweep the whole
house, including even the cattle-shed, sprinkle
•covvdung water, ornament the floor with white
powder, and then go to the temple tank to
bathe. There every morning most of the
females of the village meet. The temple tank
in Kelambakam is a large one, and separate
places for bathing are assigned to the men
•and the women. The women come one after
another and take their accustomed places, and,
during the time they wash their clothes, bathe,
and attend to the usual toilette, such as putting
on the red powder called Kunkumam and
smearing the body with saffron, they freely
^nter into conversation, in which intelligence
and wit are combined, and which will at once
convince even the most superficial observer
•that they are not so stupid as they are some-
times represented to be. For the benefit of

102 . LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

such of my readers as may wish to form some
idea of their conversation, I shall here re-
produce a conversation which took place
between a number of the women of the village^
and which I myself had the pleasure of over-
hearing.

It was a fine morning in the month of May.
There was at the tank Lakshmi, the wife of
the village headman Kothundarama Mudelly^
usually considered the prettiest woman of the
village. Though she is the happy mother of a
number of children, she looked as fresh as a
girl of sixteen, and it seemed as if youth and
beauty were permanently settled upon her
finely moulded face. There was also present
Sundaram, the black ugly-looking wife of the
Kurna^n, Ramasami Pillai, but withal a good
woman and a loving wife. The venerable
looking old lady Seshammal, the wife of the
Purohita, Ramanujacharri, was there, being
the first to arrive at the tank. Her wrinkled
face and silvery hair are doubtless the results
of old age, but she was as sprighdy and
energetic as a young girl. She never would
shrink from bathing in the tank early in the
morning, even in the cold month of December.

AT THE BATH. ,03

There also were Amirtham, the wife of the
schoolmaster Nalla Plllai, and the garrulous
Andal, the wife o( the temple Archaka,
Varadayyangar, fat and burly looking, with
thick massive features and heavy hanging arms,
and ever ready to talk all sorts of scandals,
especially against the good-natured Perundevi,
the wife of Appalacharri, her husband's brother.
There was also to be seen Thayammah, the
wife of the village physician, Appasamy
Vathiyar, a hard-working lady, who often took
up the cudgels on behalf of Perundevi against
the vexatious attacks of the scandal-loving
Andal ; and there were besides these a number
of other females, whose names at this distant
date I do not remember. These freely entered
into a conversation which lasted for some time.
Perundevi, Appalacharri's wife, happened to
be absent on that day for reasons which will
appear from the following.

Lakshmi. — Where is that good girl Perun-
devi to-day ? We miss her very much.

Thayajnmah, — There was a good deal of
noise in the Brahmin street last night, and I
asked Vathiyar about it. He told me that the
people in Appalacharri's house were quarrelling.

I04 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

AndaL — Yes, I know all about it, but you
chide me whenever I speak the truth against
Perund^vi.

SeshammaL — It is true there was some
quarrel and the people actually came to blows.
Andal knows all about it, as she takes a good
deal of interest in the matter. I do not know
how the dispute came about. I was then busy
cooking.

AndaL — You know, Lakshmi, I told you
last Monday that Appalacharri severely beat
his wife, and forcibly took away from her that
fine earring set with rubies which she was
wearing and which we all were wont to admire.
He gave the earring to his concubine Minakshi.
News of this was carried to Perundevi's
fathers house in Conjeveram, and last night
her old father, his two sons, and a number
of their companions, came and questioned
Appalacharri about the earring.

A7nirtha7n, — To whom does the jewel
belong ?

AndaL — It was made for Perundevi by
her father. She was the pet child of the
family, and when she was married to Appala-
charri, her people made a number of jewels

THE CASE OF PERUNDltVl. 105

for lier, but none of them is so valuable as this
ruby earring. Appalacharri was very badly
used, but the mean fellow patiently bore all
the contumely. His mother, his widowed
sister, and others also came in for a good share
of abuse. This, too, he quietly bore. But
when one of his brothers-in-law abused
Minakshi, his concubine, as being the cause of
all these troubles to their beloved sister, he
sprang upon the poor fellow like a tiger and
severely assaulted him, saying that he would
tamely submit to anything else but would
never allow his dear concubine to be abused.
Thereupon a free fight ensued, and Appala-
charri was severely belaboured.

Sunda7'a7n. — But where is poor Perund^vi
now }

AiidaL — They took her away to Conjeveram
last night, saying that they gave away their
beloved child to Appalacharri, just as a parrot,
which is tenderly nursed, is given away to a cat.
They swore that they would not send Perund^vi
back, and it is likely we shall never again enjoy
iier company.

SeshammaL — Oh sad fate ! why should she
•thus suffer ^

io6 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

Lakshmi. — Ayyo, poor girl ! Are we no more
to see your beautiful face ? But why is it that
Appalacharri should prefer that ugly-looking-
concubine to the beautiful Perund^vi ?

ThayanmtalL — My husband says that Minak-
shi somehow administered a love potion ta
Appalacharri, and that is doing all the mischief.
The Vathiyar is advising him every day to take
medicine which will make him vomit the whole
thing ; then, he says, he will be all right and
return to the bosom of his wife. But he will
have none of it.

Lakshni, — Stop ! There comes the sinner
with a face full of grief. Evidently he feels the
last night's affair. Let us not speak about it.

S^mdaram. — What did you prepare, Lakshmi,
for your last night's meals ?

LaksJimi. — A friend of my husband inChingle-
put sent us a few days ago some dried brinjals
of the north, and I cooked them with some
dhol. The dish was so good that my husband
was extremely pleased with my culinary skill.
I took advantage of the occasion and reminded
him of his promise to make for me a flower in
gold, just like the one that Amirtham is wear-
ing on the tuft of her hair. He promised to

THE PUNISHMENT OF DURIYODANA. 107

buy some gold immediately and send it to
Conjevcram to a skilled goldsmith.

Sundarain, — Let me have some dried brinjals^
I will make a nice preparation and try to please
my husband.

Lakshmi, — You know they are going to read
the tale called Aniydtham in my house this
midday. I ask you all to come and hear the
interesting story, and then, Sundaram, you will
have some of the brinjals.

Andal. — What is the story ?

Lakslwii. — It is the story of that vile wretch
Duriyodana, who, not content with depriving
the Pandus of their kingdom, tried to seduce
the chaste Subathira, the wife of Arjuna. For
this he was very severely punished by Alii,
the Queen of Madura.

ScshammaL — The worst sin of all is to cast
a sensual eye upon another man's wife. There
is a stanza in the Tamil Prabanda which my
husband recites every day. It says that he
who loves his neighbour s wife will be for ever
goaded on with sharp instruments by fiends in
hell to embrace the figure of a female made
of red-hot iron.

Lakshmi, — That is Duriyodana's fate and he

io8 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

will now be suffering for his sins. I ask you
all to come to-day to my house to hear that
good story.

By this time the bathing and toilet were
finished, and they all returned to their homes.
According to the invitation, they again met at
about one o'clock to hear the story oi Aniydtham
read. The author of the poem, which is in
Tamil, is Pugazhenthi, a well-known poet who
lived in Madura about the tenth or eleventh
century, when the Pandyan kings were the
rulers of the country. When the daughter of
his king was married to a Chola king, the poet
accompanied the bride to the Chola court as a
part of her dowry. The poets there grew
envious of the new-comer and got him im-
prisoned. It was while in prison that our poet
composed the tale called Aiiiydthain and many
other similar works. The story runs that he
used to recite his tales to the women of the
town, who had to pass by the prison to a neigh-
bouring tank for water, and that they in turn
made his prison life comfortable by throwing
fruits and cakes into his cell. The works of
Pugazhenthi are even to this day very popular
with the women of the country. The following

AN/YATHAM. 109

IS a brief outline of the story called Ani-
ydtham.

When the Pandus lost their kingdom and in
fact their everything in gambling, it was stipu-
lated that they should live in the wilderness for
a number of years. This they did, and Duriyo-
dana, their half-brother, who had long wished
to seduce Subathira, the wife of Arjuna, wanted
to take advantage of their absence in the
wilderness and go to Madura, where the fair
lady was living. Duriyodana first laid the
matter before his own minister, who was quite
against the proposal. Then he went to his
own wife and said — " My dear wife, lands and
riches I have, and this fair world encompassed
by the vast ocean is at my feet. But there is.
one thing wanting to complete my joy. I have
set my heart upon brave Arjuna's wife. She
now lives with Alii, the Queen of Madura.
Permit me, therefore, to go to the banks of
the Vaigai to effect my purpose." His wife
advised him not to take such a serious step, and
implored him to stay. But heedless of the
good advice of his wife and his wise minister,
he went to Madura and submitted his proposal
to the Queen of that place. But that brave

no LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

•Queen, wishing to punish the man who made
such a nefarious request, sent word to say that
Subathira would be sent with him if he would
■come again in a few days. In the meantime
the Queen of Madura sent for some carpenters
and got a curious ladder made. It was so con-
structed that any one ascending it would neces-
sarily get nailed to it, and both man and ladder
would straightway fly in the air. Duriyodana
returned to Madura in a few days as directed,
^nd requested the Queen to send Subathira
with him. The Queen replied that his request
would be complied with on his ascending a
ladder which was in her possession. To this
he consented, and such was his love for the
beautiful wife of Arjuna that he immediately
began to ascend the ladder. And what was
the result ? He and the ladder were both
seen flying in the air by Athisesha, by Indra,
by the five Pandus, and by all the world. The
people laughed at him, and he was reduced to
such extremities that he requested the Queen
of Madura to extricate him from his perilous
position. He was at last set free, and was thus
taught not to love his neighbour's wife.

VIII.

The village bards— The story of the royal huntress.

Macaulay says : " The Greek Rhapsodists,
according to Plato, could scarce recite Homer
without falling into convulsions. The Mohawk
hardly feels the scalping knife while he shouts
his death song. The power which the ancient
bards of Wales and Germany exercised over
their auditors seems to modern readers almost
miraculous." The above remark applies with
equal force to the Indian bards, who go about
in villages reciting tales. The power exercised
by them over the villagers is simply marvellous.
I once witnessed two bards reciting a tale to
the people of Kelambakam, wherein the adven-
tures of a royal prince, his adversity, his banish-
ment from the land of his fathers, his love for
a huntress, and his ultimate marriage with her,
were all graphically described. The following

' ■ If

112 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE. , \

\
is the story. It first describes the land over

which a good king ruled. \

It was a land of plenty and of wealth ; . ,

There God's indulgent hand made for a race [

Supremely blest a paradise on earth. \

A land of virtue, truth, and charity.

Where nature's choicest treasures man enjoyed

With little toil, where youth respected age,

Where each his neighbour's wife his sister deemed.

Where side by side the tiger and the lamb

The water drank, and sported oft in mirth.

A land where each man deemed him highly blest

When he relieved the mis'ries of the poor,

When to his roof the wearied traveller came

To share his proffered bounty with good cheer.

Such was the far famed land of Panchala. I

1
The good king is then described in the ^

following lines.

Here reigned a king who walked in virtue's path,
Who ruled his country only for his God.
His people's good he deemed his only care.
Their sorrows were his sorrows, and their joys
He counted as his own ; such was the king
Whose daily prayers went up to Him on high
For wisdom and for strength to rule his men
Aright, and guard the land from foreign foes.
Such was the far famed king of Panchala.

This good king had a son who is next |

spoken of in the tale. |

STORY OF A HUNTRESS. ' 113

An only son he had — a noble prince,

The terror of his foes, the poor man's friend.

He mastered all the arts of peace and war,

And was a worthy father's worthy son.

What gifts and graces men as beauties deem,

These nature freely lavished on the youth,

And people loved in wonder to behold

The face that kindled pleasure in their minds.

The courage of a warrior in the field,

A woman's tender pity to the weak,

All these were centred in the royal youth.

His arrows killed full many a beast that wrought

Dread havoc on the cattle of the poor.

Such was the famous prince of Panchala,

Then follows an account of the good people of
the country. They go to their king and com-
plain to him of a ferocious tiger.

The people, they were all true men and good.
Their ruler they adored, for by their God
He was ordained to rule their native land.
They freely to their king made known their wants,
And he as freely satisfied their needs,
And e'en the meanest of the land deemed it
The basest act to sin against his king.
Such were the people of the ancient land
Of Panchala, who stood one day with tears
Before their king to pour their plaintive tales
Of ruin wrought upon their cattle by
The tiger of the forest, that all day
Was safe in his impenetrable lair,
But every night his dreaded figure showed
And feasted on the flesh of toiling beasts.
8

114 UFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

The king at once commands his son to go to
the forest and kill the beast.

The king gave ear to their sad tales of woe,
And straightway called his only son, and said —
** Dear son ! my people's good I value more
Than thine own life. Go therefore to the woods
With all thine arrows and thy trusty bow,
And drag the dreaded tiger from his den,
And to their homes their wonted peace restore.
His spotted skin and murderous claws must soon
Be added to the trophies of the past.
Now hanging on our ancient palace walls."

The prince obeys his father, but for a while
his search for the tiger proves fruitless.

The prince obeyed, and to the forest went,
Three days and nights he wandered in the woods.
But still found not the object of his search.
He missed his faithful men and lost his way.
Till worn and weary underneath a tree.
Whose shady boughs extended far and wide.
The lonely straggler stretched his limbs and slept.
And for a time forgot his dire distress.

The prince's feelings are then very graphi-
cally described in the following lines.

He woke, and thus addressed himself with tears,
*' Here I am left deserted and alone ;
Perchance my faithful people at this hour.
Are vainly searching for their hapless prince.
While I die here of hunger and of thirst.

STORY OF A HUNTRESS. 115

And gladly would I welcome now the brute

That has attracted me to this strange spot,

To plunge his claws into my body, tear

My flesh, and break my bones, and feast on me

By gnawing them between his horrid jaws.

And so spare me from this slow lingering death."

The prince then meets a huntress, and the
meeting is thus related.

So thought the royal youth of his sad doom,

When lo ! a spotless figure, with a bow,

A pouch with arrows dangling on her back,

A hatchet in her hand for cutting wood, .

And with a pitcher on her head, appeared.

Here every day she came to gather wood.

And, dressed in male attire, her heavy load

Took to the nearest town, sold it, then reached.

At close of day to cook the ev'ning meal.

Her cottage on the outskirts of the wood,

Where, with her sire, bent down with years, she lived,

And dragged her daily miserable life.

Such was the maid that was upon that day.

As if by instinct, drawn to the fair youth.

And such the huntress Radha he beheld.

A fairer woman never breathed the air,

No, not in all the land of Panchala.

They meet, and the prince subsequently kills
the tiger with the help of the huntress, who
gives him food.

The maid in pity saw his wretched plight.
Then from the pitcher took her midday meal.

Ii6 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

And soon relieved his hunger and his thirst.
The grateful prince, delighted, told his tale,
And she, well pleased, thus spake — "Fair youth! grieve

not,
Behold the brook that yonder steals along.
To this the tiger comes at noon to quench
His thirst. Then, safely perched upon a tree,
We can for ever check his deadly course,"
Both went, and saw at the expected hour
The monarch of the forest near the brook.
In quick succession, lightning-like from them
The arrows flew, and in a moment fell
His massive body lifeless on the ground.

The king's son then takes leave of the
huntress, and returns home.

Then vowing oft to meet his valiant friend.

The prince returned, and with the happy news

Appeared before the king, who blest his son

And said ; " My son ! well hast thou done the deed ;

Thy life thou hast endangered for my men ;

Ask anything and I will give it thee."

" I want not wealth nor power," the prince replied,

** But, noble father ! one request I make.

I chanced to meet a huntress in the wood.

And Radha is her name ; she saved my life.

I but for her had died a lingering death,

Her valour and her beauty I admire.

And therefore grant me leave to marry her."

The father resents this request, and banishes
the prince from the country.

STOR Y OF A HUNTRESS, 1 1 7

The king spake not, but forthwith gave command
To banish from his home the reckless youth,
Who brought disgrace upon his royal house,'
And who, he wished, should wed one worthy of
The noble race of ancient Panchala.
Poor youth ! he left his country and his home,
He that was dreaded by his foes was gone.

The neighbouring king, taking advantage of
the prince's absence from the country, invades
Panchala.

Vain lust of power impelled the neighb'ring king,

The traitor who usurped his sovereign's throne,

To march on Panchala with all his men.

He went, and to the helpless king proclaimed—

"Thou knowest well my armies are the best

On earth, and folly it will be in thee

To stand 'gainst them and shed thy people's blood.

Send forth thy greatest archer, and with him

My prowess I will try ; this will decide,

If you or I should sit upon the throne,

And whether Panchala is thine or mine."

The king, bewildered, knew not what to do,

But soon two maidens, strangers to the land,

Met him, and, of the two, the younger said —

•* O righteous king ! we left our distant homes

To visit shrines and bathe in holy streams.

We have been wandering in many climes.

And yesternight this place we reached, and heard

Your loyal people speak of your sad plight.

In early youth I learned to use the bow,

I pray thee, therefore, send me forth against

The wretch that dares to wrest this land from thee."

Ii8 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

The king was pleased with this offer, which
he gladly accepted. He sent word to the
invader, and the hour and place of the contest
were named. The contending parties duly
met.

And ere the treacherous wretch could string his bow,

A pointed arrow, carrying death with it,

Like lightning flew from forth the maiden's hands.

Pierced deep into his head, that plans devised

To kill his royal master and once more

Thought ill of Panchala and her good king.

His body lifeless lay upon the field.

The king was highly pleased with the victor,
and asked her to state whatever request she
had to make. Thereupon, the brave woman
replied as follows : —

" Thou, noble ruler of this ancient land !

Before thy sacred presence and before

All these assembled in thy royal court,

I will reveal my story, sad but true.

I am the only child of him that ruled

The neighbouring state, whose kings for centuries

In peace and friendship lived with Panchala.

Alas ! the villain, whom my arrow gave

To crows and to the eagles of the air,

Usurped my father's throne, and, sad to tell,

He instant orders gave to murder us.

The menials sent to do the cruel deed

Felt pity for the fallen king and me.

STORY OF A HUNTRESS. 119

His only daughter, in the woods left us
And went away, reporting they had done
The deed ; and there, in that deserted place,
Unknown we lived a wretched life for years.
And glad I am that death ignoble, which
The wretch deserved, has now befallen him.
This person standing here — I now remove
The veil, and, by the mole upon his breast,
Behold in him thine own begotten son —
Was by thy orders banished from the land.
Grant that I now may plead for him, because
A woman's words can sooner soothe the heart.
I crave your Majesty to pardon him
For loving me, and take him back unto
His father's home ) grant also, gracious king.
That I, a princess, may be worthy deemed
Of being wedded to thine only son."

The king, rejoiced at this, immediately issued
orders for the marriage of the prince and the
princess. The story goes on to tell how they
in their turn ruled a double kingdom for many
long years.

IX.

Jugglers and acrobats— Introductory remarks— An account of
the several feats performed by the jugglers and acrobats.

The months of January, February, and March
are pleasant months to the Indian villager and
his hard-working cattle. In Southern India,
agricultural operations commence about the
month of July. As soon as the lands are in a
fit condition, the villager takes his cattle to
plough his fields, and the ploughing usually
occupies several days. Then at the proper
times, which he knows by experience, he sows
the paddy, attends to the weeding and anxiously
looks up to the sky for the periodical rains, and,
if they fail, waters the fields from a neighbour-
ing well. The water has to be lifted up at times
from a depth of fifteen or twenty feet. This
process of irrigation is both difficult and labo-
rious. The villager goes to the well with two

INDIAN PRE VISION. 1 2 1

Others as early as three or four o'clock in the
morning and goes on drawing water till nine ; he
again commences work at three in the after-
noon, and does not stop till it gets dark, and
oftentimes, if it is a moonlight night, continues
till eight or nine o'clock. It will thus be seen
that the villager, whenever occasion requires,
does not shrink from working for even twelve
or thirteen hours a day. All this time, he
cheers himself by singing enlivening songs.
Singing songs when fields are watered has
become a regular institution in the country, and
Hindu women, who pass by, invariably stop to
hear the songs, and catch with avidity every-
thing that comes from the lips of the singer.
From what they hear in this way they often
divine future events. For about the space of
five long months, the Indian villager tenderly
nurses the plants, as he would his own children,
watches their progress day after day with *' con-
tending hopes and fears," and even when the
corn gets ripe his anxiety does not cease. He
then denies to himself the pleasure of sleeping
in his own house. He constructs for himself a
temporary bed in the midst of his fields, and
there, regardless of the piercing cold or venom-

132 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

ous reptiles, keeps his nightly watch to prevent
other people's cattle from committing mischief,
to scare away birds that constantly light in
numbers on the fields to pick up the grain, and
to look after light-fingered gentlemen who find
it convenient to carry on their avocations at
night. About the end of December or the
beginning of January the harvest commences.
Then, with thankfulness to God, he stores in
his granary the hard-earned grain, which is to
sustain him, his wife, and children for a whole
year, and in the backyard of his house heaps
the straw, for the use of the cattle, that shared
with him the hard toil of the previous months.
Then comes a period of rest. The anxiety of
the villager is now over and he has no cares to
occupy his thoughts, and naturally yearns after
amusements. It is about this time and the
succeeding months of April, May, and June,
when the heat is somewhat unbearable, that
marriages and other festivals are generally cele-
brated by him.

One cool morning about the end of January,
when man and beast were at ease, and the
people of Kdlambakam, having little to do, were
longing for some amusement to while away

THE JUGGLERS. 123

their time, a cluster of people were basking in
the sun and spending their time in idle gossip.
Muthu Naick, the village watchman, came and
informed Kothundarama Mudelly, who formed
one of the company, that a troupe of jugglers
and acrobats had come to Kelambakam the
previous evening and were encamped in the
fine mango tope near the temple tank. The
whole village was soon in a bustle, as the news
spread like wildfire. Little urchins ran to their
mothers to tell the glad news, and some even
ran to the mango grove to see the new-comers.
The women of the village, young and old, were
all on the tip-toe of expectation, and commenced
to prepare the midday meal earlier than usual.

The jugglers who came to Kelambakam that
day belonged to the Thombarava caste. The
Thombaravas are a nomad class of people, who
earn their livelihood by wandering about the
country and exhibiting their feats. The troupe
consisted of the chief man, who was about forty
years of age, his wife, who was between twenty-
five and thirty, his brother, a strong, muscular,
well-built youth of twenty, and his two little
boys aged about nine and seven. The princi-
pal man came to the village munsiff and begged

124 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

permission to exhibit his feats and show his
skill before all the people of the village. After
consultation with the chief men of the place
permission was at once granted, and it was
decided that the performance should commence
at three in the afternoon. Long before the
appointed hour, the people of the village, young
and old, and even pariahs from the parcherry,
flocked into the open space opposite to Kothun-
darama Mudelly's house and anxiously waited
to witness the exhibition. The headman and
the more respectable people were seated on
mats before the performers. The rest of the
people stood surrounding the performers, who
had sufficient space in the middle to exhibit
their feats. The females were standing in a
group in a separate place, and some young men
actually climbed up a tree that was near and
were safely perched on the branches. The
headman having given permission for the per-
formance to commence, the chief juggler took
his drum and began to beat it violently. Its
discordant notes were heard far. and wide, and
the result was that more people came running
to the spot. It might be safely said that most
of the people of K^ambakam were present on

ACROBATIC FEATS. 125

the occasion. The juggler than said — " Great
and good men of K^lambakam ! I have per-
formed my most astounding feats to the admira-
tion of all that have seen them. I have per-
formed before the Zemindar Runga Reddy, and
he was pleased to present me with a laced
cloth. I showed my extraordinary skill in
jugglery to Zemindar Ramasamy Mudelly, and
he was pleased to make a present of the new
cloth which my wife is now wearing ; and only
yesterday I played before the people of the
neighbouring village, who were so well pleased
with me that they gave me money, old clothes,
and abundance of grain. But I know you are
even more liberal than all these. I pray that
you will witness my great feats and reward me
as I deserve." So saying, he asked his brother
and his two little boys to step forward. They
came and bowed to the audience and then made
a number of somersaults, double and single.
These were done by all the three in quick
succession.

Then the two little boys came forward and
lay. down, the one upon the other. They
rolled on the ground with such singular swift-
ness that soon the outlines of their bodies were

126 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

entirely lost to the eye, and they looked like a
cannon-ball rolling on the ground. This little
feat excited the highest admiration of the
audience, and the little ones at once became
the favourites of the villagers, who, as will be
seen afterwards, showed their appreciation in a
tangible form.

The third item in the programme was even
more wonderful than the above. The chief
man brought a coconut and asked some of the
audience to examine it. He said that his
brother would throw it into the air, and that,
falling upon the crown of his head, it would
break in two. So saying, he gave the coconut
to the youth, who examined it and threw it up
to a height of about fifteen feet, but instead of
fearlessly holding up his head, slipped aside,
pretending to be afraid to undergo the dan-
gerous ordeal. The principal performer, then
patting the youth on the back, said that he
should not be so mindful of his life, that the
good will and approbation of the good people
of Kdambakam were more to them than his
life, and that therefore he should not shrink
from performing the dangerous feat. Thus
admonished, the youth once more took the

THE MANGO TREE TRICK. 127

coconut, threw it up, and stood upright like a
column without wavering for a single instant.
The coconut came down upon the crown of
his head, and straightway fell to the ground in
two pieces. Soon there arose a shout among
the people who witnessed this extraordinary
feat. Some said ** Shabash ! " some said that
they had not see the like before, and Kothun-
darama Mudelly and others showed a desire to
examine the youth's head. But nothing was
visible there. His head was as sound as ever
it had been.

The next thing shown was the ma^igo h-ee
trick. The chief actor took a mango seed,
showed it to the people, and then planted it in
the ground. He sprinkled some water over it
and covered it with a basket. A few minutes
afterwards he took out the basket, and lo ! there
was found a tender plant with two or three
leaves sprouting out of the seed. More water
was poured over it, and it was again covered
with a basket. After the lapse of a few minutes
more the plant was found in fresh growth with
a height of about ten or twelve inches. The
same- process was repeated three or four times,
and on the last occasion the plant rose to a

128 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

height of three or four feet. Thus in the short
space of half an hour the mango seed became a
tree. This trick is very common in this country,
and it is said that jugglers even cause fruit to
grow and distribute it to the people. Our
juggler was not able to do this, as mango trees
bear fruit only in May and June, and this per-
formance took place in January.

After this came a dangerou*s and difficult
feat. The chief performer, planting his feet
close together, stood in the middle of the ring
like a column. His brother then climbed over
his body with great agility, stood upon his
shoulders, and lifted up one of the two boys,
who, resting his hands upon the crown of his
uncle's head, raised his legs into the air. In
that perilous position, he performed some clever
feats, which the people beheld with wonder and
not without a sense of fear for the safety of the
small performer. This was considered as simply
marvellous from the way the people showed
their appreciation of this exhibition of skill on
the part of the boy, but what would they say to
the following, described in the autobiography of
the Mogul Emperor, Jehanghir ? ''One of
seven men," says the Emperor, " stood upright

THE NEEDLE TRICK. 129

before us, a second passed upwards, along his
body, and head to head placed his feet upwards
in the air. A third managed to climb up in the
same manner, and, planting his feet on those of
the second, stood with his head upwards, and so
alternately to the seventh, who crowned this
marvellous human pillar with his head upper-
most. And what excited an extraordinary
clamour of surprise was to observe the first
man, who thus supported upon the crown of his
head the whole of the other six, lift one foot as
high as his shoulder, standing thus upon one
leg and exhibiting a degree of strength and
steadiness not exactly within the scope of my
comprehension."

The next scene enacted was the needle trick,
A needle, such is ordinarily used by the people,
was placed on the ground with the point turned
upwards. The female performer walked on
her hands, and reached the place where the
needle was planted. Then gently lowering
herself, she lifted the needle with her eye by
skilfully closing the lids on the point. This
wonderful feat was greatly admired by the
simple villagers, and Appalacharri was loud in
his praises of the woman's skill.

9

I30 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

The chief man then took a cannon-ball about
the size of a large-sized wood-apple, and asked
the people to examine it and note its weight.
He threw it to a height of fifteen or twenty
feet, and adjusted himself in such a way that
the ball fell on the nape of his neck. Then he
made certain motions of the body with extreme
agility, and the ball swiftly rolled on his back
in all directions and even right along each arm.

Then a block of granite that was lying in a
corner of the street was brought by four vil-
lagers into the ring. It was about a yard in
length, three-fourths of a foot in breadth, and
about half a foot in height. Strong ropes were
passed round both ends of the granite block
and tied to the flowing hair of the second per-
former. Thus fastened, the stone was lifted
from the ground by four men, who after-
wards let it go. Forthwith the youth, with
his heavy weight, whirled round and round, and
soon the man and the stone were lost to the eye.
The people of the village were loud in their
praises of this herculean feat.

After this, about six or seven earthen pots,
of various sizes, were placed one above the
other on the head of the chief performer, so

THE DISAPPEARANCE SCENE, 131

that they resembled a conical pillar. Skilfully
balancing the weight on his head, the juggler
climbed up a bamboo pole about twenty feet
high, which was firmly planted in the ground.
Then, closely fixing his legs to the bamboo and
steadily holding its end in his grip, he com-
menced to move backwards and forwards.
The bending capacity of the bamboo pole was
very great, and the utmost limits were reached
on either side, so that this feat, apart from its
difficult nature, presented a most interesting
sight to the beholders. As soon as the per-
former got down, they found, to their great
astonishment, that the pots remained intact,
and that their positions were not in the least
changed.

The last, but not the least, of the perform-
ances which formed a most fitting close to this
varied and interesting programme, was the
strange disappearance scene. The woman was
brought forward, and her legs and feet were
tied together with a strong rope. She was
then put into a basket, which was afterwards
covered. After a little while the basket was
opened and was found empty. The woman
was not there. By and by the husband called

132 UFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

the missing woman by her name, which she
answered to from a corner of the street. This
closed the performance, and the people were
extremely delighted with the whole thing.
Some gave old clothes to the performers, and
others made presents in money. The women
of the village vied with the men in rewarding
the actors, and they took especial delight in
giving the two boys cakes and other eatables.
Our old friend Appalacharri gave the woman
an old cloth and some money also, and, by the
orders of the village headman, every household
in the village gave half a measure of paddy.

Thus ended a pleasant afternoon's amuse-
ment. It formed the subject of the daily talk
in Kdambakam for several days, and for
months afterwards the people had a vivid recol-
lection of this visit of the jugglers to the
village.

X.

Snake-charmers and animal-tamers — Hindu feeling regarding
the serpent — The snake-charmer and his feats — The highly
intelligent cows and bullocks.

Men in the ruder stages of civilization often
regard the lower animals as objects of worship.
Some animals rouse 'feelings of hatred and fear ;
some are regarded with affection and gratitude
on account of their usefulness to man ; and
others induce a feeling of awe and admiration
on account of the remarkable powers of intelli-
gence which they display. Many animals have
in India been deemed worthy of adoration.
The snake is worshipped because it is dreaded.
For the cow the Hindu has the highest venera-
tion. It is a tame, innocent animal, and its
usefulness to man is of the highest kind. The
milk and its different products form the most
valuable staple of human consumption in this

134 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

country. People love this most useful animal,
feel grateful to it for the various benefits it con-
fers on them, and therefore worship it. Then,
again, the monkey is adored for its superior
intelligence. Animal worship in this country
is accordingly traceable to the above three
causes.

First, then, as regards the serpent. It is not
in India alone, but in other countries also that
such objects as are feared and detested have
come to be worshipped by man, thus exemplify-
ing the truth of the old saying, ** Fear made the
first gods in the world " {Prifnos in orbe deos
fecit timory The snake is the most dreaded
animal in this country. We find mention made
of it largely in our ancient writings. The
dreadful effects of snake-poison used in instru-
ments of war are vividly described in the
Rainayana, wherein we find the warrior Laksh-
mana lying senseless on the field on account of
the poisonous arrows used by Ravanas son.
In the story of Harichandra, with which every
Hindu is familiar, we read of Harichandra s
only son having been bitten by a snake, and
that was considered to be the greatest misfor-
tune that could have befallen him. In the

SNAKE SUPERSTITIONS, 135

Story of Nala, another very popular story, we
read that queen Thamayanthi was in her
troublous days devoured by a huge serpent in
the desert. Again, it is one of the principal
beliefs of the Hindu that Adisdsha, the thou-
sand-headed snake, supports the earth. Vishnu,
the preserving power of the Hindu trinity, is
said to sleep upon the serpent, and Siva, the
destroying power, wears it as an ornament. It
is the vulgar belief that eclipses are caused by
the serpent. This dreaded reptile has given
occasion to a good many common sayings.
There is a saying in Tamil to the effect that
the sight of a snake is enough to strike terror
into a whole army. Another says that a ser-
pent that is found in the midst of even ten
persons is not in any danger of being killed.
Such is the fear with which it is regarded. Is
it any wonder, then, that people adore it ?
When a snake is killed, the Hindu performs
ceremonies similar to those performed in honour
of a dead relative. Again, people go to places
which are said to be the haunts of these
venomous reptiles on a particular day of the
year, and there pour out milk. The dancing
girl is said to be an adept in her profession

136 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

if, with a serpent round her neck, she fearlessly
dances before an assembly.

From the above it will be seen that a good
deal of importance is attached to this reptile,
and that it is largely mixed up with our beliefs
and superstitions ; so much so, that it has be-
come man's highest effort to devise means to
charm this animal. Snake-charming is a very
ancient art in India, for we read that snake-
charmers were found in this country in the
days of Alexander the Great. Now-a-days
snake-charmers are to be found going about
the country and gaining an easy and comfort-
able living.

Kelambakam was one day visited by a snake-
charmer. He wore a large turband (head-
dress) and a charmed armlet, made of copper,
which is said to exercise considerable influence
on serpents and make them do as he pleases.
In one hand he had a pipe made of the dried
shell of the Indian gourd with a bamboo reed
inserted in it, and in the other a small basket.
The snake-charmer's pipe is called Magadi,
and it is said that the music of this instrument
has a peculiar attraction for snakes. Such was
the paraphernalia of the man who visited

THE SERPENT CHARMER. 137

K^lambakam, and who of course first went
to the house of Kothundarama Mudelly and
played on his instrument. Instantly the head-
man and the inmates of the house, as also a
number of people from the neighbouring houses,
came to the spot to see the charmer exhibiting
his snakes. He said, ** Good and noble men,
I have in this basket four large cobras, one of
which is a black cobra, the most ferocious of
all. Any moment they would surely bury
their poisonous fangs in my body, but by this
charmed armlet I am protected ; and when
once I strip myself of it, I lose all control over
them ; though even if they bite me I am not
afraid, for I have now in my possession a most
efficacious medicine which, when used on the
part bitten, at once absorbs the poison. I will
show you instantly how these dangerous animals
appreciate my music, and you will also see the
black cobra kiss me." So saying, he again began
to blow the pipe for some time ; then carefully
opened the basket, and out came four large
cobras, and, spreading their hoods, began to
move to and fro. The snakes turned their
hoods whichever way he turned the hand on
which he had the armlet. By this he wanted

138 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

to convince the spectators of the wonderful
influence which the armlet had over them.
Then carefully placing all the cobras except the
black one in his basket, he again played on the
pipe. This time, it seemed, he took greater
care in playing on his instrument. The black
cobra raised its hood higher and higher as he
went on playing on the pipe and approaching
it nearer and nearer. Then, as he suddenly
stopped the music, the cobra made a hissing
noise and put down its head, and in doing so
slightly touched the charmer s lips. The people
beheld with wonder this black cobra kiss the
charmer — this venomous reptile which could in
a few seconds kill him. They were highly
satisfied with his skill in snake-charming, and
put to him a thousand and one questions re-
garding snakes generally. Then he offered for
sale the medicine which he had for snake
poison. Every household in the village took
care to buy some of it, and safely treasured it
in their house. They had implicit confidence
in the efficacy of the medicine, of which, they
said, only he was the happy possessor. This
snake-charmer is pretty well known in and
about Kelambakam, and he is also constantly

,

THE EDUCATED BULL. 139

seen at fairs and festivals, exhibiting his snakes
and selling his medicines.

There is another class of people in Southern
India who educate cows and bullocks, which
they train to such a high degree of perfection
that even animal tamers in European countries
would be taken with surprise. Two people
once came to our village. One was in charge
of a fine-looking bull named Rama, and the
other was in charge of a cow, a very fine
specimen of her kind. She was named Seeta.
The bull, which was adorned with metal bells
and other ornaments, was first brought before
the people, and a number of questions were
put to him by the man in charge. ** Are we
in a village whose people are generous and
willing in bestowing rewards upon worthy
men } " said he. At this the bull shook his
head, and the people at once understood him
to answer in the affirmative. To questions that
required a negative answer the bull remained
motionless, and to questions that required an-
swers in the affirmative the bull shook his
head. Then said the man to the bull, *' Now
point out the headman of the village, whose
generous disposition and whose liberality is in

I40 UFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

the mouth of every one." On this the animal,
followed by the man in charge, forthwith walked
up to Kothundarama Mudelly. The villagers
derived great amusement and pleasure from
this exhibition of the animal's intelligence.
Then was performed a most interesting scene.
The man in charge of Seeta went up to her,
and told her that Rama, her husband, unmind-
ful of his lawfully wedded wife, had on the pre-
vious day bestowed his affections upon another.
The cow, on hearing this, turned away from
her husband, and refused to follow him. The
man in charge went to her, and by smooth
words tried to dissuade her from taking such
an unfortunate step. The cow was inexorable.
Then the bullock was requested to go to his
wife and amicably settle their dispute ; but he
was equally unyielding. At last the man in
charge of the cow went near and said, " Good
Seetamma ! it won't do for you to persist in
your folly. It is not right, nor is it according
to the Shastras, that your husband should come
to you and ask your pardon. Come, therefore,
and be reconciled to your husband.'* The cow
resented this request of the mediator, and
showed her anger by running against him as

THE COWS SETTLEMENT. 141

if to gore him. After a time the matter was
settled by the cow of her own accord going
to her husband and kneeling before him.
Rama, the bullock, was satisfied, and both
walked side by side, while the two people in
charge of the animals beat their drums in cele-
bration of the happy union of a pair that had
been unfortunately separated by a painful in-
cident, though for a short time. The villagers
were simply delighted with the performance of
these highly-trained animals, and they showed
their appreciation of the performance by giving
the animals oil-cakes and other things to eat
and the two persons presents in grain and
old clothes.

XI.

The village preacher — His sermon on the incident related in the
Mahabaratha, viz., Sindhava's Death,

" And oft at night when ended was their toil,
The villagers with souls enraptured heard him
In fiery accents speak of Krishna's deeds
And Rama's warlike skill, and wondered that
He knew so well the deities they adored."

The two great national epics of India, the Ram-
ayana and the Mahabarata, have in every age
charmed their readers and powerfully exerted
their ennobling influence on the character and
modes of thought of the people of this country.
This is partly owing to the fact that they
have intrinsic merit of their own, as being
the grandest literary achievements of India's
master minds, and in a great measure owing to
the strong conviction that they are Thdvakathas
(stones of God). Hence they have a powerful
hold on the minds of a people who are known
to be extremely religious, who are taught to

THE VILLAGE PREACHER. 143

believe by their sacred writings that to hear or
read the divine stories is to secure the path to
heaven, and whose whole effort in thought and
action has been directed towards the attainment
of perpetual beatitude after death. No other
work in India at the present day possesses the
attraiction which these epics have for the
majority of the people. The pious Hindu will
walk great distances, will sit up for hours and
will be ready to forego all sorts of conveniences,
if he only gets an opportunity fo hear these
divine stories, though it may be for the hun-
dredth time. Various ways are devised to
entertain the people with the stirring incidents
of the Raviayana and the Mahabarata. They
are produced on the stage in the form of plays,
they are recited by professional bards in lyric
verse, and they are expounded to the public in
plain prose. No wonder therefore that profes-
sional preachers are found everywhere in the
country, even in obscure villages, who sermonize
on the popular incidents to be found in the
Ramayana and the Mahabarata, and that willing
ears are ever found ready to listen to them and
help them to gain an easy and comfortable
living.

144 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

In K^lambakam, the preacher who delights
its inhabitants is Nalla Pillai, the schoolmaster.
He has read very carefully all the fourteen
thousand stanzas of his great-grandfather's
Mahabarata in Tamil, and at night in the
summer season, when the villagers have nothing
to do, he explains them to the people. His
fame as a preacher is pretty well established,
and people from the neighbouring villages
attend his preaching. I myself had once the
pleasure and privilege of hearing this preacher
of Kelambakam, and I will here give what fell
from his lips, word for word. People came
pouring in from Kelambakam and from neigh-
bouring villages to the house of the village
headman. On the pial of his house was seated
the preacher. Before him was placed the
picture of Krishna playing the flute and leaning
on a cow. The picture was profusely decorated
with flowers. There were also two small
vessels. In one there were camphor and some
burning incense, in the other were flowers and
fruits. The people swarmed about like bees.
Some were seated in the open street, and others
on the pials of the neighbouring houses, the
whole audience being eager to catch the words

THE PRE A CHERS STORY. 145

that fell from the preacher's lips. At eight
o'clock, the preaching commenced. The moon
was shining over the motley crowd who had
assembled to hear the doings of their favourite
deity. There was dead silence. The camphor
was first lighted and incense burnt. The
preacher knelt down before the picture, and
then seating himself commenced to speak. The
story related by him that night was Smdhavas
Death, He said : —

** Great and noble men ! Yesterday I re-
counted to you the wondrous deeds of Abhim-
anna, the worthy son of Arjuna, by his wife
Subhadra, Krishna's sister. I told you how
this young lion of the Pandus, this worthy son
of his worthy father, fought against great odds
in the field of battle, killing with his destructive
arrows his enemies by thousands and tens of
thousands. I told you how, like a brand thrown
on a huge heap of dried grass, he committed
havoc on the enemy's camp. Like the morning
sun rising in all his glory, he went forth to
battle to fight, and as the bright rays of that
luminary, as he ascends the meridian sky, grow
fiercer and fiercer, so grew the courage of this
young warrior. The fiercer the battle, the

10

146 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

greater was the courage shown by him in the
field of battle. He pierced the invulnerable
army of the enemy. He broke the lotus forma-
tion, killed thousands of thousands of huge
elephants and mettled horses ; he disabled the
strongly built chariots of the enemy and gave to
crows and eagles those who dared to oppose
him. Blood flowed like water, and the havoc
committed among the enemy's forces was
tremendous. Mangled corpses of gaily decked
warriors and richly caparisoned elephants and
horses, lay thickly strewn on that field of battle.
The enemy was terror-stricken, and for a time
knew not what to do. When Abhimanna went
into the midst of the army arranged like the
lotus, he was hemmed in on all sides by the
hostile forces. He fought against great odds
and his chariot was disabled. On foot he
fought, sending destruction and death to the
right of him, to the left of him, in front of him,
and behind him — so that even the boldest
warrior in the hostile camp was afraid to
approach this young lion. The work of destruc-
tion was awful. But the surging mass still
pressed against him, and he was unable to
extricate himself from his perilous position.

THE PREACHER'S STORY. 147

This skilled warrior pierced deep into the army,
and went into the midst of the lotus formation ;
but was unable to return to his ranks. I will
tell you how it was that he failed to return
victorious to his father. During the last
months of Subhadra's pregnancy, when Abhim-
anna was in his mother's womb, our saviour
Krishna, who is related to her as brother, was
one night describing to her, to while away
her time, the arts of war, and was vividly
explaining how the different formations of the
army such as PatJmiavytiga^n (lotus formation),
Sakatavyugatn (chariot formation), Magarav-
yugayn (fish formation) are constructed. While
he was explaining to her the Pathmavyugam, she
fell asleep. The child in the womb was care-
fully attending to what was being said by
Krishna, who came to know that the mother
was asleep, and that the child was hearing him
on behalf of the mother, just when he finished
his explanation of the lotus construction.
There he stopped, and unfortunately did not
explain how the same construction should be
broken. Thus it was that poor Abhimanna,
who went into the very midst of the lotus, did
not know how to get out again. He was in

148 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

great straits, and as a last resource took out
his conch shell and blew it with all his might so
that its warning voice might apprise his father
of his dangerous position. At this juncture
Krishna purposely blew his conch shell in
another part of the field, and thereby drowned
the sound that issued from Abhimanna's shell.
Thus poor Abhimanna, hemmed in on all sides,
fell on the field of battle, slain by Sindhava, the
brave ruler of the Sindhus. Like the morning
sun he went forth in all his glory to the field of
battle ; like the meridian sun he fought fiercely,
sending his scorching arrows and killing all that
dared to oppose him ; and like the setting sun
sinking into the western ocean, his corpse fell
down in the ocean of blood that flowed from the
bodies of the elephants, horses, and fighting
warriors, killed by his arrows. What a sad fall
there was, when the noblest and the bravest of
the Pandava army fell fighting alone in the field
of batde !

" News of Abhimanna's sad death was carried
to the Pandava army that very night ; but
human tongue cannot express the inexpressible
grief with which his father, the high-souled
Arjuna, was afflicted ! He wept, beat his breast,

THE PREACHER'S STORY. 149

and bit his lips. He brought to his memory
the beauteous form of his late beloved son, his
prowess and his skill in war, and he sobbed and
wept. His brother-in-law Krishna tried to con-
sole him, but he refused to be consoled, saying
that the loss he had sustained was irreparable.
Krishna said: * Thou noble Dhananjaya!
Why should a Kshatriya and a warrior such as
thou art weep like a child, weep for him, who,
like one worthy of his martial race, died in the
field of battle facing the enemy ? He is now
in Viraswarga, that abode in heaven where
warriors dying in battle enjoy for ever God's
presence. You should be proud of such a son ;
why then grieve for him ? ' These words had
no effect upon the sorrow-stricken father, who
still questioned his men as to how his son fought
in battle, what armies he routed and who in the
end killed him ; and when he was told that
Sindhava, the ruler of the Sindhus and Duriyod-
hana's brother-in-law, was the cause of his dear
son's death, his sorrow was suddenly turned to
anger, and in the presence of Krishna, of his
own brothers, and of his assembled men, he
vowed vengeance on the man who slew his son.
* If by to-morrow evening,' he exclaimed,

ISO UFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

* before the setting of the sun, I do not. with
this vay gandiba, kill the slayer of my son, that
wretch who slew a young child, and brought on
me all this misery, that sinner for whom the
worst part of hell is reserved — if before the set-
ting of the sun to-morrow I do not kill him, I
will throw myself on the burning pyre and be
consumed to ashes. Be witness to this my vow,
O mother earth, ye spirits of the firmament,
and all ye gods ! my faithful gandiba that hast
through all my life so faithfully assisted me, be
thou also a witness ! If I do not keep this vow,
the worst part of hell shall be reserved for me.
That place in Yama's abode which is set apart
for him that killed a thousand Brahmins, a
thousand cows, a thousand poor innocent chil-
dren, and a thousand weak and helpless women,
shall be mine also. If I fail to act up to my
vow, I shall be deemed a worse sinner than he
that killed his o\yn father and mother, than he
that misappropriated the money set apart for the
upkeep of a charity, than he that demolished
a temple.' Thus spake this noble king of the
lunar race, this martial Kshatriya.

"Thus resolved, this brave warrior who routed
in battle even Indra at once set himself to his

THE PREACHER'S STOR V. 151

task, and courted the assistance of Krishna to
secure for him the Pasupathasthra, that war
instrument of Mahadeva which alone could kill
Sindhava. Then said our saviour Krishna;
and who is he but the Avatar of Vishnu —
* Who am I ? ' he said. * I am none other
than Brahma, the creator. I am none other
than Vishnu, the preserver, and I am Siva, the
destroyer. I am all three in one. I am one in
three. Did I not teach you this great truth
before you went to battle against the Kurus—
that in whatever place, at whatever time, in
whatever manner, and in whatever form, my
believers wish to worship me, I will, in that
place, at that time, in that manner, and in that
very form, appear before them and grant their
prayer. I am the one great power in the
universe, the great cause which is itself without
a cause. And what are Brahma, Vishnu, and
Siva, but the attributes of one great principle
pervading the whole of the vast universe. All
things in the world, men, beasts, birds, reptiles,
all inanimate things, and even this vast universe,
pass through three stages. They have their
birth, their growth, and their decay ; and of
these three stages I am the cause. Hence I

I S3 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

am called Brahma, the creator, Vishnu, the
preserver, and Siva, the destroyer. Though I
am called by these three names on account of
the functions that I perform, still I am the one
great principle in this universe that underlies
all these, the uncau«:ed, indestructible, ever-
living principle. Worship me, therefore, in
this very place, as Mahadeva, and you will have
your prayer granted at once.' Accordingly
Arjuna fell down and worshipped Krishna, and
the Pasiipathasthra of Siva was vouchsafed to
him. Next morning, Arjuna rose, put on his
best armour, and amidst the praises of bards
who proclaimed his titles, the great deeds he
achieved and his prowess and skill in war,
amidst the beating of drums and the blessings
of good and righteous men, went forth to the
field of battle, resolved before the setting of
the sun to slay Sindhava and give his carcase
to the jackals and other beasts of the earth,
and to the birds of the air, or die on the
burning pyre true to the vow he so angrily
uttered the previous night.

*• What at this time was the state of matters
in the enemy's camp ? News of Arjuna's vow
against Sindhava was carried to king Duri-

THE PRE A CHER'S ST OR V. 153

yodhana and his men, and sent a thrill of horror
throughout the whole camp. The king and the
commander-in-chief, the brave Drona, at once
devised plans to save poor Sindhava from
Arjuna's arrows. They said : ' This Sindhava
is a brave man and we cannot afford to lose
him. He is of immense service to us, and if
till to-morrow night we manage to keep him
out of Arjuna's reach, Sindhava will be saved,
and Arjuna, true to his vow, will die himself
on the burning pyre. Without Arjuna, the
Pandava army is worth nothing, and could be
very easily routed.' So saying, they made
arrangements for keeping Sindhava out of the
brave Arjuna's reach. Early in the morning,
long before that warrior commenced to fight
against them, they arranged their army in the
forefront like a chariot ; behind the chariot
another portion of their large army was ar-
ranged in the form of a fish ; and behind this
fish formation a portion was arranged in the
form of a lotus ; and in the midst of this lotus
formation, Sindhava, the object of brave Ar-
juna's search, was safely hidden. These for-
mations were several miles in length. Drona,
the commander-in-chief, placed himself in the

154 UFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

forefront at the head of the army. Eighteen
akronis of troops were engaged that day against
Arjuna. You may perhaps ask how much an
akroni is. This I will now tell you. One war
chariot, one elephant, three horses, and five
fighting men make one /^;////^ Thre^ panthis
make one seni7nuka. Three seni7n2tkas form
one gtdma. Three gulmas go to make one
gana. Three ganas form one vahini. Three
vahinis make one prithana. Three prithanas
go to form one chamu. Three chanms make
one anikini, and ten anikinis make one akroni.
So that we have for each akroni 21,870 war
chariots, 21,870 elephants, 65,610 horses, and
^09*350 soldiers. And when I say that
eighteen akronis of troops were engaged that
day, you can realize for yourselves the magni-
tude of the army that opposed Arjuna.

" Nothing daunted, Arjuna went forth to battle
and fought bravely. His wonderful exploits
struck terror into the enemy's forces. But
alas, it was midday when he with difficulty
pierced into the midst of the chariot forma-
tion. He had still to break through the fish
formation and the lotus formation behind it.
He tried hard, but it was impossible for him

THE PREACHERS STORY. 155

to reach the place where Sindhava was hidden.
It was beyond human power to accomplish this
difficult task. The far-seeing Krishna noticed
the gravity of the situation. The day was
fast drawing to a close and the setting sun was
gradually approaching the western horizon ;
and Arjuna was only able to get into the midst
of the chariot formation. In these circumstances,
Sindhava's death was an utter impossibility.
Accordingly, when there were yet five naligais '
ere the day should close, Krishna directed his
chakra to hide the sun. The chakra did so,
and darkness spread over the land. But how
was it that the chakra, which is brighter than
the sun, brought on darkness ? This is the
reason. Once upon a time, when the good
king Ambarisha ruled the land, he wished to
acquire religious merit by fasting on every
ekadasi day, and taking his food with as many
Brahmins as he could secure on the morning
of the next day. In this matter, he acted
strictly in accordance with the rules laid down
in our Skastras, Indra grew envious of the
good work which the king was doing, and
requested the well-known Riski Thuruvasaka
* A naligai is equivalent to twenty-four minutes.

156 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

to throw obstacles in the way of the king while
engaged in the accomplishment of his vow.
One morning, the Rishi went to the king in
the disguise of a Brahmin and asked to be fed
with the other Brahmins. The king consented,
and requested Thuruvasaka to go to the river,
and return as soon as possible after performing
his morning ablutions. The Brahmin did not
return, and king Ambarisha was in a dilemma.
He did not know what to do. If he did not
take his food early in the morning as enjoined
in the holy writings, all the religious merit he
had hitherto acquired by the strict performance
of his vow would be lost ; and if on the other
hand he partook of his meals without the
Brahmin who went to bathe, promising to
return in time, he would be committing a great
sin, for it is a great sin to eat food when a
Brahmin is starving. While in this serious
difficulty, he was advised to take a leaf of the
sacred Tulsi plant and a little water. As soon
as these were taken, the Brahmin returned, and
seeing what the king had done, pronounced a
curse upon him. Vishnu's chakra, which was
guarding the king from all kinds of evils, was
enraged at the wily and dishonest conduct of

THE PREACHER'S STORY. ,57

the Rishi, and began to pursue him with the
intention of kilHng him. The poor Rishi ran
to Indra, then to Siva, and then to Vishnu him-
self for protection. He fell at the feet of
Vishnu and implored his pardon. Vishnu
thereupon directed the chakra not to molest
him any further. The Rishi, after being thus
harassed and pursued, was so much vexed with
the chakra that he cursed it, by saying that its
brightness should vanish and that it should
become as dark as the darkest thing in the
universe. But when the chakra requested
Vishnu to save it from this curse, it was
ordained that its brightness should vanish only

once.

"It was therefore on the occasion to which we
now refer that it became dark ; and the moment
it was directed by Krishna to hide the sun,
everything became dark and night seemed to
be fast approaching. The birds of the air
began to make for their nests, and man and
beast were returning to their resting place after
the day s labour. And poor Arjuna, what could
he do.^ He had no other alternative but to
have the pyre prepared. The sinner Duriyod-
hana, seeing that the day had come to a close,

158 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

and being convinced that Arjuna would act in
accordance with his vow, hastened to the place
where the pyre was prepared, with Sindhava,
Drona, and the other generals of his army, to
witness the much wished for sight. The pyre
was lighted, and Arjuna prepared himself for
the awful doom by going round it thrice. Just
as he was about to leap into the burning flames,
Krishna interrupted him and said : * O Arjuna!
it is not meet that you should, amidst the tears
of your brothers and friends and your faithful
men and amidst the joyful shouts of the enemy,
madly put on end to your life, all for mere
sentiment. How many in the world's history
have under similar circumstances changed their
purpose ! Do not therefore madly put an end
to your useful career.' Arjuna replied : * I will
not swerve one jot or tittle from what I have
solemnly sworn to perform. I have not suc-
ceeded in killing Sindhava, and I will therefore
die myself.' * But here is Sindhava before you
and within easy reach of you,' said Krishna.
' Why not now kill him and thus save yourself
from this terrible death .'^' * No,' said the noble
Arjuna, * the sun has gone down into the western
ocean and night has come on, and I will not soil

END OF THE PREACHERS STORY. 159

my hand or tarnish the glory of this my faithful
gandiba by killing him now.' But what,* said
Krishna, * if the sun still shines in the western
skies and the day has not yet come to a close ? '
* I will then kill Sindhava,' said Arjuna. Our
saviour Krishna now withdrew the chakra and
lo ! the setting sun was shining in all his glory
at the distance of four fathoms from the western
horizon. The bow was strung, and in a twinkle
the Pasupathasthra of Siva flew like lightning
and severed Sindhava's head from his body,
amidst the shouts and exultations of all good
and virtuous men. Glory be to Krishna, this
saviour of mankind, who is ever ready to assist
the good and to punish the wicked, this Dis-
penser of Justice who protected the good and
noble Arjuna from his awful doom. Let us all
therefore unite in praising our Creator."

So saying, the preacher knelt down before
the picture. Camphor was lighted, and the
whole audience rising en masse and exultingly
shouting the words Krishna, Govinda, Gopala,
&c., knelt down before the picture.

In this speech, strange medley as it is of
oriental exaggeration and extraordinary incident,
we find a wonderful parallel to the incident

i6o LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

related in the Bible, wherein it is said that
** the sun stood still and the moon stayed, until
the people had avenged themselves upon their
enemies." Whether the scientific critics of the
West have given the true explanation of this
passage, I shall not attempt to discuss, but with
regard to the wonderful incidents related in
Nalla Pillai's speech I need hardly state that
the boasted " age of reason " has not yet arrived
in Indian villages, the people of which implicitly
believe in whatever is written in their sacred
writings.^

' With reference to the last paragraph of this chapter, the
following letter appeared in the next issue of the Madras
Christian College Magazine : —

'• Sir,— While I read with pleasure Part XL of • Life in an
Indian Village,' it struck me regarding *the wonderful
parallel to the incident related in the Bible,' that Mr. T.
Ramakrishna has no need to go to * the scientific critics of
the West ' for * the true explanation,' if he had only re-
membered what Dr. Miller taught him in 187 1, when he like
myself sat at the Doctor's feet to study the Scriptures. The
explanation then given was that the passage in the Bible is
purely figurative and poetical, and, if I mistake not, it is a
quotation from some Hebrew poet. A similar explanation
from Nalla Pillai's grandson would have not only not misled
his hearers to imagine miracles where there were none, but
probably enhanced the beauty of the passage. But, as my
friend says, the * age of reason ' has not yet arrived in Indian
villages ; nor, I may add, in many better places besides.

THE MIRACLE. ' ,5,

'^If.however.it is contended that the event in iheMa/iad-
harata is a true miracle, that it is so beheved by Nalla Pillai's
grandson, by Hindus generally, and by T. Ramakrishna to
the bargam, then I fail to see any « wonderful parallel to the
incident related in the Bible,' which to a critical student is
no miracle at all. A Classmate.

" Narsapur^ 20-3-89."

ri

XII.

The village drama— The story of Harischandra—General re-
marks regarding the Indian stage.

It was at dusk one day in the merry month of
May that Muthu Naick, the ialiyari of Kelam-
bakam, came to the house of a relative of mine
in a neighbouring village, where I was spending
my holidays. He had a cadjan leaf neady
rolled up which contained an invitation from
Kothundarama Mudelly to my relative to
attend a dramatic performance which was to
take place in his village that night. We sent
intimation to the headman expressing our
willingness to attend the performance. After
taking a hearty supper, I started with a number
of friends about nine o'clock. Our way lay not
along macadamized roads or over fine bridges,
but through fields, shady groves, channels, and
sometimes right through the beds of dried

THE VILLAGE DRAMA, 163

tanks. We had to walk about four miles before
we reached Kelambakam. The moon was
shining brightly over us, and I saw on my way
the people of a whole village set out together
to go to Kelambakam. Young men I saw
hastening towards the place in groups, and
singing songs by turns. I saw old men relating
to women and children on the way the story
which they were going to see represented on
the stage that night, and discussing the relative
merits of the actors. Never shall I forget the
sight that impressed me so vividly on that
occasion. It was a fine moonlight night, and
hundreds of simple villagers of all sorts and
conditions issued from shady groves, walked
through fields and beds of dried tanks, crossed
channels, and kept pouring into Kelambakam
from all quarters in their best attire. When
we were about a mile from the village we heard
the noise of some thousands of people from
about thirty or forty villages assembled in the
plains of Kelambakam. As soon as we reached
the place we saw some five or six thousand
people squatting on the ground, and it was
several minutes before we could be taken
through the densely packed assembly and

i64 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

safely seated on mats in the open space in the
middle. There was no raised stage, no en-
closure for the actors ; we simply saw five or
six actors of whom one was a female. We
also saw two washermen with torches in their
hands. The players live in a neighbouring^
village, and this is the troupe whose services are
called into requisition by the people of about
thirty or forty villages in the neighbourhood of
K^lambakam. The players have some reputa-
tion as actors, and their remuneration is fixed
at one pagoda, or seven shillings per night.
Any presents they get in the shape of money
or clothes of course they take to themselves.
The play commenced about ten o'clock. The
well-known story of Harischandra was repre-
sented on the stage. The following is a short
account of the story.

Once upon a time a number of pious Brahmii>
travellers went about visiting different places in
India, bathing in the holy waters and worship-
ping at the different shrines. On their way
they visited Ayodhia (Oudh) which was then
ruled by a young prince named Harischandra.
He was a most virtuous ruler, truthful and
honest ; and the moment he heard of the holy

THE PLAY. ,65

Brahmins, the prince went to meet them and
received them kindly. They, highly pleased
with the hospitality of the good prince, and
with the beneficence and justice of his ad-
ministration of the country, told him that the
ruler of Canouj had a daughter whose match-
Jess beauty they could not describe in words,
and that she alone was fit to be his wife.
Harischandra, who was then unmarried, was
fascinated by the very favourable account given
to him of the princess, and requested the Brah-
mins to go to the ruler of Canouj on his behalf
and bring about a marriage between himself
and the beautiful, princess. The Brahmins
consented, went to Canouj, and delivered their
message to the king, at the same time speaking
very highly of the qualities and virtues of the
ruler of Oudh. A day for the Svayamvara^
was selected, and the king asked the travellers
to bring Harischandra to Canouj on the ap-
pointed day. The different princes of India
were also duly informed of the occasion, in
order that Chandramithi, the beautiful daughter

^ Svayamvara (literally, self-choice)^i\,Q election of a hus-
band by a princess or a daughter of a Kshatriya at a public
assembly of suitors for the purpose.— J/^«/Vr Williams.

i66 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

of the ruler of Canouj, might from among the
princely suitors select one ^is her husband. On
the appointed day all the kings as well as
Harischandra arrived at the beautiful town of
Cannamapuri (the capital of Canouj), the streets
of which were decked with flowers and ever-
greens for the occasion. The Rajahs assembled
in the durbar hall, and the beautiful Chandra-
mithi in befitting attire arrived there with her
maids. The maids then took her to each
prince, giving out his name, the country he
ruled, what he was famous for, and so on.
When Chandramithi approached Harischandra>.
she was struck with his beauty and manly ap-
pearance, and having already heard a good deal
about him, immediately selected him as her
husband and threw the flower garland round
his neck. Immediately in that great assembly
an unknown voice was heard which said :
** Harischandra ! it is willed by God that you
should be the husband of the beautiful Chan-
dramithi." The marriage ceremonies were
duly performed, and some time afterwards
Harischandra left for Oudh with his bride.
Soon they were blest with a child, and for some
time lived happily together.

THE PL A V, 167

One day in the audience chamber of Indra,
the king of the gods, when there were present
thirty-three crores of gods and forty-eight
thousand ris/its, the question arose as to
whether there could be found in the nether
world at least one truthful and honest man.
To this the ris/n Vathistha answered that
Harischandra the ruler of Oudh was truthful
and honest, and that the like of him could no-
where else be found. The ri's/n Viswamitra
objected, and said that Harischandra was not
as Vathishta had described him. A hot dis-
cussion ensued, and it was* decided that if
Harischandra could be proved to be a liar, the
rts/ii Vathishta should forego all the merit he
had acquired by his religious austerity ; and that
if Harischandra proved to be a really truthful
and honest person, the ris/n Viswamitra should
present the king with one half of the merit
which he had acquired by the penance which
he had performed.

Viswamitra then left the Indra Sabha and at
once sent a few of his followers to the king to
request him for some money toward the due
performance of some religious rites. Haris-
chandra willingly promised to pay whatever

i68 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

money was required. The money was ready,
but Viswamitra entrusted it to the king, saying
that he would take it on a future occasion.
Soon after, the rishi sent two beautiful girls to
the king, directing them to dance and sing
before him. They went, and in the presence
of the king vied with each other in exhibiting
their skill in dancing and singing. The king
was highly pleased, and asked if they had any
request to make. They replied that they
wished to marry him. The prince grew angry,-
and said that their request was an improper
one. They however, persisted, and said that
he must marry them. The king thereupon
ordered his peons to remove the girls from his
presence. The girls returned and informed
Viswamitra of what had taken place, and the
rishi, gready enraged at the treatment which
the girls received at the hands of the king,
immediately went to him and asked him to
marry the girls. The prince replied : ** My
lord ! I will do anything for you, but I will not
marry those girls." ** You will do anything
for me ? '* said Viswamitra. " Undoubtedly, my
lord," replied the prince. " Then give me your
riches, your country, and all that you possess,"

THE PLA V. 169

asked the ris/ii. The king at once gave these
and also the jewels which he, his wife, and his
son were then wearing, and so in a short time
became a beggar. He requested the rts/ti to
permit him to depart from his country. Per-
mission was given and the king went away.
The rts/it suddenly called the king back and
reminded him of the promise which he had
made in regard to the sum of money required
for the due performance of certain religious
rites. Harischandra said : *' My lord ! you
know my present position. You have taken
away even my clothes, and I am now a beggar.
However, if you insist upon my paying the
money, I beg you will allow me forty days'
time." Viswamitra consented to this, and ac-
cordingly sent with the prince one of his men
to receive the money at the end of the forty
days, taking care at the same time to advise his
man to receive his wages from the king for
remaining with him for forty days. Haris-
•chandra, with his wife, his son, and a few of
his faithful followers, left Oudh amidst the
tears of his people, and at the end of twenty
days, after much toil and many difficulties
reached Benares. There the king sold his

I70 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

wife and son to a Brahmin for the moneyr
due to Viswamitra, and executed to him what
is called a viurisittu (slavery agreement) ; and
that he might be able to pay the wages due to
Viswamitra's man, he went and sold himself to
the pariah who kept watch over the burning-
ground. Thenceforward Harischandra became
the servant of the pariah and received for each
corpse brought to the burning-ground half a
fanam (one penny), one cubit (half a yard) of
new cloth and a handful of rice. He gave the
penny and the new cloth to his pariah master,
and reserved to himself the handful of rice
which he cooked with his own hands and ate.
Thus v;as the ruler of Oudh reduced to the
position of a burning-ground watchman with a
pariah for his master, and his queen to that of
a servant woman in the house of a Brahmin.
One day while things were in this condition,
their only son went with some other youngsters
of the town to the fields to fetch some durba
grass. While the young man was plucking the
grass in the fields, he was bitten by a cobra
and fell down dead. The youngsters returned
home and related the sad story to poor Chan-
dramithi. She, in the midst of her sorrow for

THE PLAY. 1 71

the death of her beloved boy, performed her
daily work, and in the evening took leave of
her mistress in order that she might go and
burn her son's corpse. It was now getting
dark ; but she fearlessly went in search of the
child, found the dead body, and took it to the
burning-ground, with some fuel which she had
collected with her own hands. Harischandra,
who was watching the burning-ground, finding
that some one was secretly disposing of a dead
body, came near and asked the woman to give
the usual penny, cloth, and rice. She said she
was too poor to give these. Harischandra
would not allow the corpse to be" burnt. He
said he would for her sake forego the handful
of rice, but not the penny nor the cloth which
should go to his master. He knew that it was.
the dead body of his son, and yet he was de-
termined to serve his master honestly. Ac-
cordingly he insisted on his wife's paying the
money and the cloth. The woman left the
dead body and went away, promising to return
with the money and the cloth from her master.
The night was now far advanced.

It so happened that on that very night some
robbers had entered the house of the Maha-

172 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

rajah of Benares, and taken the child that was
sleeping in the cradle, and after stripping it of
all its valuable jewels, had killed it and thrown
its dead body on the street. Chandramithi
seeing the dead body, began to weep, for the
child was like her own. Then came the king's
servants in search of the child, and finding it in
the hands of the woman, at once took her
before the king, who, convinced that she had
murdered his child, ordered Chandramithi to be
beheaded. The executioner, who was none
other than Harischandra's master, delegated
that work to his servant, and he, regardless of
the fact that the unfortunate victim was his own
wife, tied her hands, and with his sword in his
hand led her to the place of execution amid
the tears of the people of Benares.

While Harischandra was thinking of his
miserable condition, Viswamitra came on the
scene and said : " O Harischandra, you have lost
your dominions, your wealth, your dignity, and
your only beloved son ; and now with your own
hand your are going to put an end to the life of
your dear wife. Now, do but tell a lie and I
will restore to you your lost dominions, your
riches, and your former dignity. I will bring

THE PLA Y. ,7j

your son to life and restore him to you, and I
will also see your wife's innocence declared."
The king bravely replied: "My lord! it is
written that to kill a thousand cows is as sinful
as to kill one child ; to kill a thousand children
is as sinful as taking the life of a weak and
helpless woman ; and to kill a thousand women
is as heinous as the crime of slaying a Brahmin r
but to tell a lie is worse than killing a thousand
Brahmins. Do you wish me, my lord, to
commit such a great sin ? I have lost my
country, my wealth, my dignity, my only
beloved son, and now with my own hand I am
about to put an end to the life of my dear wife,
all for the sake of truth. I will not tell a lie,
even at the risk of my own life." The rishi
Viswamitra went away ashamed. The king
now thought of his miserable condition and
shed tears at the thought of losing his wife.
The brave Chandramithi encouraged him and
said : " Do not, my dear husband, be afraid to
slay me. The cause of truth and virtue is
more valuable that my life. Do not delay, but
slay me at once." Then Harischandra, in firm
tones and with his sword in his hand, said to
his wife : " If it is true that there is one God, if

174 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

it IS true that throughout my whole career in
this world I have walked in the path of truth
and virtue, and if it is true also that this my
wife is chaste and virtuous, then let my wife's
head be severed from her body at one stroke."
So saying he drew his sword, and immediately
there was seen a garland of flowers on the neck
of the beautiful Chandramithi. Indra and all
the rishisy Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva came
there, praised the king for his truth, showered
their blessings on him, restored him to his
former position, and brought back to life his
dead son and the child of the ruler of Benares.
The king with his wife and son returned to
Oudh and ruled the country for many years.

The story of Harischandra which I have thus
related is the most popular story in India, and
is written in almost all the languages of the
country. The name Harischandra is synony-
mous with truth and virtue.

I should state that the whole of the story
was not acted on the occasion on which I was
present. It was divided into six parts, the last
of which was performed on that occasion. As
1 have already stated, there were present some
thousands of people, so that the crowd covered

AN INDIAN THEATRE. I75

three or four acres of ground on which the
people squatted. There was no charge for
seeing the performance. The richest land-
holder, the high-caste Brahmin and the meanest
pariah were there. The respectable portion of
the audience was seated near the actors. There
was no enclosure, no stage ; there were no
screens ; a white cloth served this purpose.
The play commenced about ten o'clock. The
white cloth was removed and the characters
appeared on the scene, with painted faces and
gaudy jewels and dresses. A little of the story
was acted, and then a great many things
unconnected with the play were witnessed.
Witty remarks were made, and songs were
sung. The buffoon now and then related
amusing stories. The granting of rewards also
formed part of the programme. Every respect-
able villager called the buffoon and placed some
money in his hands. The buffoon immediately
repaired to his place, and called out in a loud
voice the name of the person who gave the
reward, his village and all concerning him, and
in conclusion said that a rich reward was given.
The reward in many cases was no more than
two annas (threepence). This went on for

176 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

some time, and then part of the play was given.
Stories unconnected with the play were again
related, songs w^ere again sung, and presents
were again given, many of them being old
clothes. In this way things went on till six
in the morning, by which time the play was
ended and the people had dispersed to their
homes.

From what I have said it will be seen that
the arrangements made by the villagers when-
ever they get up a theatrical performance are
very simple and cost little or no money ; but
the sense of enjoyment is none the less keen.
Throughout the whole proceedings I carefully
noted how the simple villagers appreciated the
play. They seemed to enter thoroughly into
the spirit of the story, and I heard one of them
use very strong language with regard to the
rishi Viswamitra. I saw women shedding tears
and saying : " Viswamitra is a Chandala. He
is a sinner. No doubt he will be punished for
his mean actions and sent to the worst part of
hell.** One woman was actually heard to
exclaim : *' Is there no God above to punish
the wretch Viswamitra? Is there no lightning
to descend at once and kill him on the spot ?

INDIAN ACTORS. 177

Will not mother earth open at once and devour
his detested body ? "

Indian actors are not much respected in
society. Their remuneration is small — so small
that a whole troupe may receive no more than
seven shillings a night, and altogether the
profession is considered a low one in this
country.

12

XIII.

Feasts and festivals — The Pongal feast— Description of a fes-
tival in the temple — The story of the queen who committed
suttee.

One morning in January there was an unusual
stir in the village of Kt^lambakam. The Pongal^
the national feast of the Hindus, was to be
celebrated on that day. For some days before,
the inhabitants of the village, both male and
female, were busy making preparations for the
coming feast. Damages caused to houses
during the recent rainy season were duly
repaired, and the women were engaged up to
the previous day in plastering the mud walls
and the men in harvesting a portion of their
crops, getting the grain husked, and making
everything ready for the important feast. New
faces were seen at the time in the village.
Young men who had married girls from K61am-

FEASTS AXD FESTIVALS. 179

bakam arrived in time to enjoy the feast in the
houses of their fathers-in-law. On the morning
of the feast day, the women were up betimes
and were busily engaged at all sorts of work.
Some were seen cleaning the floor with cow-
dung solution and drawing quaint figures with
powdered chalk ; some dusting the roofs of
houses and cleaning old pots, and others decking
•door-posts with saffron and th'e red powder
called kiinhimajH and putting strings of mango
leaves over the doorways. Little girls were
seen in the streets arranging in various forms
lumps of cowdung and covering them with
pumpkin flowers. The potter was the busiest
man in the whole village ; and pots of various
shapes and sizes were carried from his house by
ithe women. Presents of vegetables were ex-
changed between the people of Kelambakam
and those of the neighbouring villages. The
pui'oJiita Ramanuja Charriar rose earlier than
usual, and after finishing his morning ablutions
went forth and visited every household, in-
forming the inmates as to the most propitious
time when the pots should be placed on the
fire, &c., and the people listened with eagerness
to every one of his sayings. The whole village

i8o LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

assumed a gay appearance. There was a
cessation of work, and feasting and merriment
were to be found everywhere.

According to Hindu notions the year is
divided into two equal portions. The first half
commences in January, and the second half,
which commences in July, lasts till December.
The latter is said to belong to the Astiras (evil
spirits), and is* therefore considered to be a very
bad time for man. Everything is gloomy then,
and people do not think of pleasure. Then
come most of their trials and difficulties, for
during the rainy season they must think of
nothing but their fields and their cultivation.
The other portion of the year is considered to
belong to the D&jas (gods); and then festivities
take place and there is merriment everywhere.
At this time of the year, marriages are
performed and festivals celebrated in temples in
honour of Hindu deities. The Pongal feast is
celebrated on the first day of this joyful portion
of the year, which falls about the second week
in January. The idea is, that, before the grain
that is harvested is used for human consump-
tion, a portion should be converted into rice,,
cooked, and offered to the Sun and Indra.

THE GOD OF RAIIV. ,8,

Indra is the god of rain, and the people are
enjoined to worship him on this day and thus
show their gratitude to him for having vouch-
safed rain at the proper seasons. This has
been the practice from time immemorial, though
once upon a time Krishna, when he was
spending his boyhood with the shepherds of
Ayarpadi, asked them not to worship Indra,
but to offer their devotions to the cows which
supplied them with milk, &c., and to the hills
whereon the cows grazed. - Indra," he said,
"sends rain for the benefit of those who cultivate
the fields. The rain is of no use to us. We
live by our cattle, and it is meet therefore that
we should on this important occasion give our
rice-offerings to the cows that supply us with
milk and to the hills which supply them with
grass and the various kinds of herbs upon which
they feed." To this the shepherds consented,
and accordingly they went to the hill called
G6varthanagiri and there worshipped their
cattle as directed by Krishna. Indra, seeing
that the homage paid to him by the people from
time immemorial had been withdrawn, grew
envious, and directed the clouds to send down
rain. For some days it rained very heavily,

i82 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

with the result that the country around was
flooded and all the people suffered except the
shepherds, who were saved by Krishna. The
shepherds, as soon as they saw that Indra was
determined to punish them by sending rain,
flocked to Krishna and requested him to save
them from the anger of Indra. Krishna there-
upon lifted the hill of G6varthana with one
finger and held it over his people like an
umbrella. The shepherds were saved, but the
people of the country round about suffered
much on account of the heavy rains. They all
ran to Indra and said : ** Save us from thy fury,.
O Indra! the rain is pouring and is causing
immense destruction to our property. The
shepherds who broke off their allegiance to you
are safe under the protection of Krishna, while
we, who remain faithful to you, are the real
sufferers." Indra saw the false step he had
taken, and immediately stopped the rain ; then
seeing that Krishna, the Avatar of Vishnu, took
the shepherds under his protection, went and
stood penitent before him. Then said Krishna:
"Indra! I did not wish to trench upon your
rights. I only wanted to punish you for your
pride and teach you a lesson. I am satisfied

THE PONG A L. ,83

that you are now humbled, and henceforth the
people of the world shall continue to worship
you on the first day as has hitherto been done.
but, in commemoration of this event they shall
on the following day cook rice and offer it to
their cattle." Such is the origin of the second
day's pojigal called the cafJle pongaL (The
word /^;/^^r/ means boiling.)

Accordingly, on this day, in the open space
inside every house in K^lambakam, a number
of huge pots, three or five as the case might be,
were placed on the fire in a line, at the time
directed by the ptcrohita, Ramanuja Charriar.
The new pots were all well cleaned and smeared
over with saffron. White and red marks were
also put on. A quantity of rice with as much
water as it would absorb in the cooking was
put into each pot, and some milk was also
poured in. The boiling of the rice was
anxiously watched, and when it began to simmer
the youngsters of each house shouted several
times the word pongaL The shouting took
place at about the same time in every dwelling
in the village, from which it may be inferred
that all the people without exception acted
strictly in accordance with the directions given

i84 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

to them by their venerable purohita regarding
the auspicious time for placing the rice pots on
the fire. When the rice was boiled, the pots
were very carefully lifted out and placed in safe
positions. A handful of the cooked rice was
then taken froni each "pot, and after being mixed
with ghee, sugar, and fruits, was offered to the
sun. Coconuts were then broken and camphor
was lighted. Then all the members of the
family knelt down before the sun and worship-
ped him. After this the males sat down for
meals in two rows in the kutam or hall of the
house. Plantain leaves were first spread out,
and a number of vegetable preparations were
served. These were placed near the edges of
the leaves rice being served in the centre. The
place of honour in the dining-hall was given
to the son-in-law. A little of the rice served
was first mixed with dhal and ghee, and eaten.
Then a little was taken with some vegetable
broth. After this came the third course, when
the remaining rice was taken with pepper water.
A fresh helping of rice was then given, which
was eaten with butter-milk. Between the third
and fourth courses, cakes and sweet drinks
were served. Thus ended the midday meal of

THE CATTLE PONGAL. 185

the first day of the Po7igal, to the villagers a
most sumptuous feast. The males then took
betel and nut and, smearing their bodies with
sandal, retired to rest. After this the females
sat down for meals. Lastly the servants were
fed in their masters* houses.

On the morning of the second day, the cattle
J)ongal feast was celebrated. As on the pre-
vious day, although not on so large a scale, rice
was cooked, but on this day it was given to the
-cows. The cattle were not sent out of the
village to graze. They were all taken to the
.tank and well washed. Their horns were
painted and garlands of flowers and foliage
were thrown round their necks, and they were
led in procession through the streets of the
•village with tom-toms and music. Then com-
menced a round of festivities. The people
went about visiting each other. It is said that
when Indra punished the people by sending
lieavy rain, they were not able to stir out.
They were shut up in their houses for some
days, and then when the rain ceased they ran
about in all directions, anxiously inquiring of
friends and relatives how they had survived the
-destructive rain ; and it was in commemoration

i86 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

of this event that the villagers went about
inquiring after the welfare of each other. The
first question asked when two persons met was r
" Has the milk boiled ?** Then some compli-
mentary questions were exchanged, and in
token of the goodwill existing between them,
betel and nut were offered. These mutual
visits lasted for some days. The pariahs and
the menial servants of the village also made
merry at this season. Some disguised them-
selves as byragees (wandering mendicants from
the north), others as pandaravis (professional
beggars who sing religious songs). Their
powers of imitation were much applauded by
the villagers, who gave them presents. The
dancing girls of the temple also visited all the
houses in the village, along with a number of
musicians, and after dancing and singing for
some time received presents. The young girls
of the parcherry, about ten or twelve in num-
ber, led by an elderly lady, went about singing
songs. The girls formed a ring round a certain
object, and went round it several times singing
songs and clapping their hands. New cloths
were bought and worn for the first time on this
important occasion. The sons-in-law who came

A FESTIVAL IN THE TEMPLE. 187

to the village to enjoy the feast had valuable
cloths given to them, as also had their wives.
On receiving their presents they fell at the feet
of their fathers-in-law and mothers-in-law as a-
token of gratitude and respect. The youngsters
also prostrated themselves at the feet of their
elders and received their blessings.

Amidst all these rejoicings the temple deity
was not forgotten. One day was set apart for
celebrating a festival in the temple. Early in*
the morning, about five o'clock, several rockets-
were sent up, by means of which the villagers
were apprised of the festival in the temple.
The people, as soon as they heard the sound of
the rockets, arose, and after bathing and putting
on the usual marks, got ready coconuts, fruits,
flowers, and camphor. The idol of the temple
was placed on a vehicle and was carried through
the streets of the village. It stopped at every
house, and the inmates taking the coconuts,
fruits, flowers, and camphor, came out and
worshipped the god. At about eight oclock,
the idol was taken to the top of a neighbouring
hill on which there is a very ancient inandapam
(porch) built of granite stones. The hill, which
is at a distance of about two miles from K^lam-

i88 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

bakam and which slopes up from the banks of
the river Palar, is about five hundred feet in
height. There is a fine flight of steps, ten or
twelve feet broad, leading to the porch at the
top. The hill is called Ammamalai, i.e.t
literally, the mother's hill. The following is
the explanation given of the origin of the name.
The story goes that in old days this part of the
country was ruled by a petty prince. He had
a very beautiful wife and a young daughter.
On one occasion he had to leave his home to
iight for his country. He was absent for
several years and his queen, a very brave
woman, ruled the country wisely and well
during her husband's absence. After the lapse
of a few years, the prince returned, and burning
with the desire to see his beloved queen after
such a long separation ran to the fort at the top
of the hill. There he saw a woman, a girl of
sixteen summers, coming out of a tank after
her morning bath, the water still dripping from
her cloth and her long flowing hair. In her
the prince saw the likeness of his own dear
wife, and soon ran to embrace her. The
beautiful maiden was struck with terror, and,
seeing a stranger approaching, sprang into the

LEGEND OF THE MOTHER'S HH.L. 189.

water; but before doing so, cursed the man.
The maiden was drowned and was seen no-
more ; and the king fell down dead as soon as
the curse was pronounced. The bold queen,
seeing the fate of her beloved husband and her
beautiful daughter, had a pyre prepared, and
between the dead bodies of both laid herself
down to die. The fire was lighted and all
three were consumed to ashes. Just over the
bpot where they were burnt the inandapam was
built by a loving people. The fort is now ncv
more, nor does the tank exist in which was
drowned the fair girl whose career of brilliant
promise was cut short by a father's unfortunate
mistake and unbridled passion. But their sites
are still pointed out by the people. Such is the
local tradition. Every tree, every rock, in fact
every spot has its tradition, and even to this.
day unmarried girls hold in veneration the un-
happy virgin and pray to her to bless them-
with good husbands ; and married women, ia
order that they may enjoy the married state
till death, worship her,

*• who counted it
A sin her noble husband to survive,
And in a moment flung her life away."

■ f

loo LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE. \

To the top of this hill and to this porch con-
nected with so many sad associations the god
was taken, and there during the day it was ;

bathed in rose water, milk, curd, &c. In the
■evening, the idol was placed on a vehicle pro-
fusely decked with flowers and jewels. The
sight on the top of the hill was really grand.
Thousands of people were seen below eagerly
waiting to catch a glimpse of their god as he
issued from the porch. The course of the river
Palar was clearly visible for miles, and all
round were smiling fields and nesding villages.
Nor was the spectacle from below, when the
idol had been brought down from the top, less
imposing. The light of numberless torches
and blue flames blended with that of the setting
sun and the rising moon, and falling upon the
Brahmins who recited the sacred Vedas and
upon thousands of simple villagers in their
holiday dress, densely packed all along the
flight of steps from the top of the hill to the
bottom, gave a beauty and charm to the scene
that to be realized must be actually witnessed. \
Such a scene would form a fit theme for a poet
or a painter. In the midst of this immense
-crowd were seen sellers of toys, professional

SCE.VE AT A FESTIVAL. ,9,

bards reciting interesting stories, jugglers and
acrobats exhibiting their feats, beggars with
torches in their hands, and last, but not least,
the members of a religious association all'
■dressed alike and singing songs in praise of
their deity. An account of this religious
■association I must reserve for another paper.

XIV.

The religious brotherhood — How they followed the temple idoF
and sang sacred lyrics.

In my last paper, I referred to a religious
association, the members of which followed the
temple idol, when it was carried in procession,
and sang sacred lyrics. In a neatly built room,
in the middle of the village, surrounded on all
sides by a flower garden, is the meeting place
of this religious association, which in Tamil is
called Bajanahitam, At the entrance over the
gateway is represented the trident mark of the
Vishnava sect with the figures of Garuda and
Hanuman on either side. Inside, on the walls
all round, are hung pictures representing the
different incarnations of Vishnu, and on the
floor are seen scattered in confusion various
musical instruments. Here in this room, con-
secrated to Vishnu, the members of the Bajana-

THE RELIGIOUS BROTHERHOOD. 193

kutam meet for worship. The day on which
the festival described in my last paper took
place, was a gala day with the people of the
association. All the members were present on
the occasion, and followed the idol to the top
of the hill, and in the evening when it was
taken down in procession they displayed un-
usual interest in their work and did their utmost
to please the people. They were all dressed
alike, with sandal abundantly smeared over
their bodies. Their hind-locks were profusely
decked with flowers. The chief man of the
association, who is also the most intelligent,
had what is called a tambour resting on his
right shoulder, and he dexterously passed his
forefinger over the steel wires of the instrument,
while in his left hand he had two small pieces
of wood with iron rings and small bells attached.
The sound produced by striking the two pieces
of wood against each other, blending with the
tinkling of the small bells, produced a curious
effect. This musician had, besides, strings of
small bells tied round his legs. Thus accoutred,
he sang in a loud voice and also danced, with
both his hands engaged. Another member of
the Bajanakutafn played the drum, while a

13

194 UFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

third played the fiddle. Two or three had
small circular shaped metallic instruments which
when struck against each other sent forth sharp
shrill sounds. To the accompaniment of these
musical instruments the members of the asso-
ciation sang sacred songs when following the
idol. There were hundreds of people near the
singing party who seemed to thoroughly enter
into the spirit of what was sung. Their faces
beamed with joy, and some actually danced and
clapped their hands. It may interest my readers
to have translations of one or two of the songs
sung on the occasion to which I refer. • Here
is one : —

Trust firmly in one God and thus be saved, O mind !

Do not be born again by trusting in false gods,

It is not easy for the lame, O mind !

To reach the honeycomb upon the tree

And drink of its sweet honey. Even so

'Tis hard for sinful men to contemplate

The sacred name of Govinda, O mind !

r

Trust firmly in one God and thus be saved, O mind !
Do not be born again by trusting in false gods.
Thou know'st how powerless is the frog to cull
Sweet nectar from the lotus. Even so
To sinful men no happiness affords
.The sweet and sacred name of Bagavan.

SACRED LYRICS. . ,^5

Trust firmly in one God and thus be saved, O mind!
Do not be born again by trusting in false gods.
Say if the ass, that carries on his back
The kung'ma flower,^ its uses understands.
E'en so, are fools and madmen helpless to
Discern the greatness of our Venkatt^sa.

Trust firmly in one God and thus be saved, O mind I

Do not be born again by trusting in false gods,

'Tis only Siva who can understand

The goodness in the sacred name of God.

E'en so, the virtuous and the good alone

Are able to discern the highest truths.

Trust firmly in one God and thus be saved, O mind I

Do not be born again by trusting in false gods.

Know well what has been taught to thee, O mind I

By the great Thathadesikar, and thus

Enjoy the presence of Parankusa

Who lives in heaven, the dwelling-place of God.

Here is another : —

Be saved by meditating every day
On Ramanama viantra, thou, O mind I

It is the only mantra that to us
Affords salvation sure from all our sins.

It is the sacred mantra, thou, O mind !
That saved Gajanthra in the hour of need.

It is the mantra, thou, O mind 1 that gave
The never ending cloth to Draupatha.

'A costly flower used in Indian medicines.

196 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

It is the sacred mantra^ thou, O mind !
That Prakalath to mankind so well taught. .

It is the sacred mantra^ thou, O mind !
That with Govarthana the shepherds saved.

It is the sacred mantra^ thou, () mind !
That to Valmiki showed the way to heaven.

It is the sacred mantra^ thou, O mind !
That to his wife great Siva taught of old.

It is the mantra ^ thou, O mind ! that saved
Kabir and Ramdoss in this kaliyug.

It is the 7nantra, thou, O mind ! that gives
Eternal joy to good and virtuous men.

It is the sacred mantra^ thou, O mind I
That to Parankusa gave joy divine.

Such are specimens of the lyrics sung by
the members of the Baja7takiita7?i, It may be
well that I should explain briefly the various
allusions in the latter. The third stanza refers
to the story of Gajanthra having once gone ta
drink water in a channel and been caught by a
crocodile. For several days the elephant had
neither food nor water, and his life was in-
imminent danger. At last when he had no
strength to extricate himself from his perilous
position and was about to be dragged into the

SACRED LYRICS, ,97

water, he thought of Vishnu. It is said that
Vishnu immediately appeared and saved him.

The allusion in the next stanza is to the story
which appears in the Mahabaraiha, one of the
two great national epics of the Hindus. Duri-
yodhana of the Kurus wanted to insult the
chaste Draupatha, of the Pandus, before a large
assembly, and with this object he directed that
she should be stripped of her cloth. Draupatha
thought of Vishnu, and thereupon the cloth
which she was wearing went on increasing in
length. The result was that the person charged
with the duty of stripping grew tired, and Drau-
patha was saved.

The next stanza refers to one of the most
popular stories in India. Prakalath was the
son of Hirania. who tried to dissuade him from
owning Vishnu as his god by punishing him in
various ways. But Prakalath would not re-
nounce Vishnu, and in the end was saved, while
Hirania was killed by Vishnu himself.

The story of Krishna lifting the hill of
Govarthanagiri to save the shepherds will be
found fully related in my last chapter.

It is said that Valmiki, the renowned author
of the Ramayana, was at first an illiterate

198 UFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

hunter, but that by having been taught con-
stantly to utter the word Rama he came to-
understand the divine truths, and afterwards,
by inspiration wrote the grand epic.

It is said that Siva once taught his wife
about the greatness of Vishnu. It is believed
that Kabir, a Muhammadan, and Rama Doss,,
a Hindu, were in very recent times (in the
present kaliyugd) saved by Vishnu for believ-
ing in him even at the rsk of their lives.

The above stories are known to the most
ignorant villager, so that the references to-
them in the pieces sang by the members of
the BajanaktUam were highly appreciated.
Also the references made in the first piece to-
the ass that bea's the hingwna flower, the
lame man that wishes to reach the honeycomb
on the tree, and the frog that is unable to
extract the honey from the lotus, are so well
known that every one understands them. In
fact, there are proverbial sayings founded on
them which every Hindu is able to quote.
Further, the language in which the above
lyrics and all siniilar lyrics are expressed is.
very plain and simple. Although they are
written with full regard for the rules of Tamil

HABITS OF THE BROTHERHOOD. 199

prosody, they are nevertheless easily under-
stood, as they are intended for the masses.
There is still another peculiar characteristic to
be found in these pieces, and that is the refer-
ence made to Siva, who, it is said, has acknow-
ledged the superiority of Vishnu. The Saivites
do not admit this, and the Saivites and Vishnu-
vites hate each other most intensely.

The members of the Bajanakutam honour
and respect one another greatly. When two
members meet, they fall at each other's feet and
exchange kind words. At these times they use
a language peculiar to themselves, and which
is called in Tamil Paribasha. In this article
and the previous one I have given a brief
account of the great feast of Pongal, which
to Hindus is as important as Christmas is
to Christians, and of the religious association
existing in K^lambakam, the members of which
follow the village idol and sing sacred lyrics.

XV.

Concluding Remarks.

I HAVE thus far tried to present my readers
with a picture of life in an Indian village.
There are a good many more subjects con-
nected with it upon which a great deal could
be written. Much might be said about the
sports and games daily indulged in by the
village people, as well as about marriage and
funeral ceremonies, which, however, are not
peculiar to villages only. Reference might also
be made to the village pane hay dSy of which
most of my readers have probably heard. In
former times disputes regarding property and
caste differences, and disputes arising from
breaches of social morality, were all decided by
the panchayets, a tribunal composed of five of
the most respectable members of the village.

CONCLUDING REMARKS, 201

A description of this old and useful institution,
which is fast dying out, would be out of place
in what professes to be an account of village
life as it is at the present day. I hope I have
made my sketches of village life in Southern
India sufficiently complete to induce in my
readers an interest in the welfare of the toiling
people who form the majority in this, the
greatest dependency of the British Empire.
Before closing, however, I wish to make a few
reflections on what appears to me noticeable
features of Indian village life.

The first is the extreme importance attached
do religion. Every other thing gives way to
this important aspect of Hindu life. In religion,
the Hindu lives, moves, and has his being.
His whole action, his whole thought, all that he
•does day by day, and on occasions of marriages
and funeral ceremonies, is tinged with religion.
The one pervading idea with the Hindu is how
to get rid of future births and obtain eternal
beatitude. We have seen how in dramatic
performances gods are introduced to bless a
truthful and honest man, how educated animals
are trained to act the parts of Rama, Laksh-
mana, and Sita, and how in popular tales recited

202 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

in Hindu homes the reh'gious element is largely-
introduced. We thus find religion to be the
foundation of everything Hindu. The very-
construction of an Indian village bears ample
evidence to this fact. A temple is built and
dedicated to the deity worshipped, and round
the temple a village springs up. It is a rare
phenomenon in India, at least in Southern
India, to find a village without a temple. The
religious Hindu will not settle down in a village
where there is no temple, and where, accord-
ingly, he has no chance of acquiring religious^
merit. Our ancient rajahs were careful, when
establishing a new village, to build a temple in
the centre and endow it munificently. There
is also to be found in every Indian village a
small temple built in honour of the graviathe-
vatha (village deity), which is said to guard the
village from all sorts of pestilential diseases^ |

I have given a description of Angalammal, the I

deity of Kelambakam, and the doings of the |

temple priest, from which my readers will have ^

learned how the lower classes of the people ,

frequent the temple, carrying flesh, liquor, and \

other things with them. This custom among
Hindus, of worshipping gods and goddesses

CONCLUDING /^EMAKA'S. 205

supposed to preside over pestilential diseases
and evil spirits, seems to be a remnant of pre-
Aryan times, which on account of the cowardice
of the Hindu and his natural delicacy of feeling
concerning religion has continued down to the
present day. This is the reason why we find
this base form of religion prevailing amongst
the lower classes of the people, even after the
introduction of the purer and higher religion of
the Brahmins.

We have seen, however, that the constitution
of a village makes provision for the higher
religion. We have seen how grants of land
have been made for the due performance of
worship in the temples. The temple priests
and the Brahmin Purohita, who minister to the
religious wants of the villagers, have also lands
set apart for their use. The lands given to
these men are larger in extent than those
given to the other servants of the village com-
munity ; thus showing that religion is deemed
of the highest importance by the villagers.

A second important feature of village life is
the desire on the part of the inhabitants to
secure facilities for water. The village of
Kdlambakam is situated, as we have seen, on

304 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

the borders of the river Palar, and it will be

found that the large towns and villages in India

are generally built on the banks of rivers, or

wherever there is plenty of water obtainable.

There is also in Kc^lambakam a large tank, and

^11 villages which arc: not irrigated by rivers

and channels have tanks large enough to hold

water to irrigate the fields for about six months

in the year. There are also to be found in

villages tanks of smaller dimensions, neatly

built by the side of the temple, to which the

villagers, both male and female, go every

morning to bathe. Water is of the utmost

importance to the Hindu villager, and really

forms one of the inducements for him to settle I

-down in a village. In tropical climates, and in |

a country like India, where agriculture forms I

the chief occupation of the people, water is |

highly necessary. It is also very necessary for |

the daily ceremonies of the Hindus. Daily ^

washing is enjoined as a religious duty. No I

wonder, therefore, that we find Hindus sacri- I

iicing everything else for water convenience.

When two Hindus meet and make inquiries of

each others welfare, the first question asked

is whether their respective villages have been

CONCLUDING REMARKS, 205

blest with rain. Again, when two strangers
meet and speak about the relative merits of
their villages, the palm is given to the village
that can boast of what is called jalasavukiam
(water convenience). It is in watering places
that we find people, male and female, meeting
and talking all sorts of scandals. It is there
that one gets all the news of the village. The
construction of a Hindu village depends largely
on the water facilities which the selected site
affords.

The third thing that strikes me as noticeable
is the mutual service system, which is here
carried to perfection and practised with success.
We in modern times are accustomed to use
money as the medium by which we obtain all
our requirements. But in Indian villages from
time immemorial it has been the practice to
render mutual service. The barber attends ta
the carpenter in return for service rendered to
him in making ploughs and other necessary
wooden implements. In return for the crow-
bar, sickle, and spade supplied by the black-
smith, the potter makes cooking vessels and
pots for storing grain and other articles of
human consumption. The washerman washes

2o6 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE,

the clothes of the vythian (physician). This
system does not promote competition among
village workmen, and the result is that village
artisans have not reached a very high state of
efficiency in their work. This is one of the
disadvantages of the system of mutual service,
and there are others, but it has on the whole
very well suited the conditions and circum- |

stances of India. %

Still another thing that strikes me as interest- |

ing is that each village is a little state in itself, |

with its king in the person of the headman, its
minister of finance in the person of the karnam,
and so on. There is unity and perfection even
in small things, and the meanest villager is thus |

educated in the art of government, for what |

is a Hindu kingdom but a congeries of small |

kingdoms modelled exactly on the principles I

that govern the larger kingdom ? %

The chief characteristics of Indian villagers I

are their simplicity, contentment, and habits of I

working hard. In food, in dress, and in many |

other things they are simple. They are not I

silly and do not waste money on mere frivol i- *;.

ties. Although it is true that Hindus show a t

lamentable weakness for jewels, the charge r

CONCLUDING REMARKS. 207

•cannot be laid at the door of the villagers.
They are very contented, and they have no
high ambitions. If they get enough of rain,
•and are able to raise sufficient food to sustain
them for a year, they are satisfied. They work
very hard, and do not think of anything else
hut their work. They work when there is
work, and play when there is no work, and
•enjoy life's pleasures most keenly. If in Eng-
land public recitations are given by men who
have studied the art of elocution to perfection,
the simple villager of India has his bards to
recite to him interesting old tales for a handful
•of rice. If civilized Europe can boast of highly
trained horses and other intelligent animals,
•acrobats performing extraordinary gymnastic
feats,' and jugglers doing wonderful things, the
Indian villager has his jugglers and acrobats,
his snake-charmers and animal-tamers, ready
to show their skill for a small sum. If in
other countries opera-houses, theatres, and
•other similar public places of amusement are
maintained at enormous cost, the poor Indian
rustic has his village troupe to amuse him for
seven shillings a night. And if in foreign
-countries learned divines thrill the hearts of

2o8 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

their congregations with the fire of their elo- |

quence, the villagers here have their preacher f

to sermonize on the popular incidents of the
Ramayafta and the Mahabaratha, But there |

is an important difference between the two. In |

the one the highly trained and civilized mind of |

Europe yearns after perfection in social delights
and enjoyments, and cares not how much
money is spent, while the Indian villager rests
satisfied with what was instituted for his amuse-
ment hundreds of years ago, and which time
and the altered circumstances of the country
have not in the least changed.

A very marked characteristic of the Indian
villager is his extremely conservative nature.
His life in general flows smoothly on, unruffled
by anything uncommom, and undisturbed by
the many conflicting interests that are at work
in the outside world. Of these he has scarcely
an idea. Centuries of isolation have confined
him to his home, and even in modern times the
civilizing agencies that are at work elsewhere |

leave him unaffected. To quote the words of |

Professor Max MuUer: "The village Is his [

world, and the sphere of public opinion with
Its beneficial influences seldom extends beyond

CONCLUDING REMARKS. 209

the horizon of his village." A stereotyped and
a highly conservative mode of living is adopted
which often leads him to look down with
contempt upon the changes which are being
wrought every day around him, and everything
with him seems, as Carlyle would say, *' to lie
at anchor in the stream of time regardless of
all changes." Years have rolled away, changes
have been vast and varied, and changes of
government have been many, and still the
Indian villager resembles exactly his prototype
of at least one thousand years ago.

But even this extreme conservatism of the
Indian villager has to contend against the
highly progressive tendencies of modern times.
*• The ways of the world," to quote Carlyle once
more, ** are more anarchical than ever. . . . We
have got into the age of revolutions. All kinds
of things are coming to be subjected to fire as
it were ; hotter and hotter the wind rises around
everything." India is now advancing at a re-
markably rapid rate, and new features are
appearing even in the life of an Indian village.
It is not my intention here to enumerate all
those new features that have arisen, but I will
mention two which seem to me to be very im-

14

2IO LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

portant, and which will require to be looked
into sooner or later.

Owing to the nature of land taxation in
India, by which payment of revenue is made in
coin and not in grain, as was the case in olden
times during the days of Hindu rajahs, a new
class of people have sprung up who of all the
people seem to be particularly favoured in their
trade. These are the money-lenders, and every
village has its usurer. I have in my account
of Muthusamy Chetty, the usurer of Kelam-
bakam, shown how this leech in human shape
contrives to impoverish the toiling villagers.
When the villager's dwelling is to be repaired,
to the usurer he must go. If he has to buy a |

pair of bullocks, he must have recourse to the |

money-lender. If marriages and other cere- |

monies are to be performed, the usurer is ever I

ready to lend him money ; and above all, the |

instalments of Government revenue to be paid t

before all his crops can be secured and realized, |

are gladly advanced by the money-lender. The I

villager can do nothing but borrow at exorbi-
tant rates. Thus, in India, we see the strange
anomaly of the money-lender furnishing the
cultivator with farming capital. The result is

CONCL UDING REMARKS. 2 1 1

that the poor villager is simply paid for his
labour, while the lender takes all the profits,
" although he has no proprietary interest in the
land." The plant and stock in any concern in
which an English capitalist engages belongs to
himself, but in India the villager who owns the
land is simply in the position of an English
labourer, who has no such ownership. And in
India we find the still further anomaly of capital
without proprietary interest securing a higher
rate of interest than that obtainable in En^rland.
Here we find the few flourishing while the
many suffer. The only remedy is, as I have
already pointed out, to institute agricultural
banks in every district, and advance money to
the cultivators at moderate interest.

Another successful class of people has also
sprung up in India. There are to be found in
villages nowadays people with a smattering of
law leading on innocent people to unnecessary
and costly litigation. Every village has its
local lawyer, and we have seen how in Kelam-
bakam, Appalacharri successfully managed to
bring about a quarrel between the potter and
the panisiva, how the dispute lingered on for
a year and more, how Appalacharri himself

213 LIFE IN AN INDIAN VILLAGE.

played the chief part therein, and how during
all that period he successfully fleeced both
the parties. The time has now come for steps
to be taken to put down this class of men, who
are dreaded by the villagers and whose favour
is gladly courted by them. A revival of the
old system of settling disputes by village
panchayets would be a step in the right direc-
tion.

For the present i take leave of my readers.
For years I have freely mingled with the
simple villagers, and- it is because I feel
strongly that they are a people deserving of
sympathy that I have ventured to put together
these hurried sketches, in the hope that they
may lead people to take an interest in their
welfare.

UNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESSi CHUWORTH AND LONDON.

14 DAY USF
-xx«ntod.skh.omSbokkowbd

LOAN DEPT.

liws book is due on the Ia«!f ^o.

=>uD;ea to immediate recall.

GeoeraJ Library
University of California

! n..[^.n£..,?ER.KfLfY LIBRARIES

cDsvflDflma