Part 11 (1/2)
On hearing the Brahmin's message, the warder says: -- ” 'Great sir, be pleased to enter the palace; the divine Krishna reposes, in front of you, on a throne.' Krishna, descending, bows to him, and shows him much respect, and those attentions which a man would show to his friend. Having applied fragrant unguents, and caused him to be bathed and washed, he partakes of food, possessing the six flavours. Afterwards he gave him the betel leaf, made up with areca nut, spices, and chunam; and having perfumed his body with saffron and sandal wood oil, and arranged his dress, and put upon him a necklace of flowers, he conducted him into a palace adorned with jewels, and caused him to repose in a fair curtained bed, studded with gems.” After sleeping profoundly, the Brahmin awakes, and relates his mission. Krishna goes to claim his bride, and orders his charioteer, Darak, to prepare his chariot. Darak quickly yokes four horses. Then the divine Krishna, having ascended, and seated the Brahmin, departs from Duarika to Kundalpore. On coming forth from the city, behold! ”on the right hand herds upon herds of deer are moving, and in front, a lion and lioness, carrying their prey, are advancing, roaring.”
Having seen this auspicious event, the Brahmin, having mentally reflected, said, ”Sire, from beholding, at this time, this good omen, it appears to my mind that, just as these are advancing, having accomplished their object, just so you will return, having effected yours.” Arrived at Kundalpore, he finds preparations made for the marriage:
”Swept were the streets, the crossings o'er-canopied, and with perfumes sprinkled and sandal oil; Cl.u.s.ters were formed of flowers of white and of red, and interspersed with cocoa-nuts of gold.
The green foliage, fruits, and flowers, were in profusion, and from house to house flowering wreaths.
Banners and pennons and flowers, in golden tissues, were suspended, and well-fas.h.i.+oned vessels of gold And in every house reigned joy!”
”As for Rukminee, with agitated frame, she gazed in every direction, as the moon is dimmed by the morn. Extreme anxiety showed in the heart of the fair one; she gazed, standing in a lofty balcony; her frame was agitated, her heart most sad; she drew deep sighs. While, through distress, tears rain from her eyes, she says, ”Why has not Krishna arrived?” When the marriage-day dawns, she sends, by a Brahmin, to Krishna: ”Receptacle of favour, -- When two hours of the day remain I shall go to perform wors.h.i.+p in the temple of Dewee, to the east of the city.” Her companions and attendants, arriving, first filled a square place in the courtyard with pearls, and spread a seat of gold set with pearls, on which they caused Rukminee to sit, and anointed her with oil by the hands of seven married women whose husbands were alive. Afterwards, having rubbed her with fragrant paste, they adorned her with sixteen ornaments, and put on her twelve trinkets, and having arrayed her in a red boddice they seated her, fully adorned. Then the young Rukminee, accompanied by all her handmaidens, went, with the sound of music, to perform her devotions. Screened by a curtain of silk, and surrounded by crowd upon crowd of companions, she appeared among the swarthy group who accompanied her as beautiful, as amid dark blue clouds, the moon with its company of stars!”
Having arrived at the temple of Dewee, the royal maiden, having washed her hands and feet and sipped water, proceeded to offer sandal oil, unbroken grains of rice, flowers, incense, lamps, and consecrated food, and with earnest faith performed the wors.h.i.+p of Dewee according to the prescribed ritual.
”After which she fed women of the Brahmin caste with delectable food, and having attired them in fair garments, she drew a mark on their foreheads with a mixture of rice, alum, turmeric, and acid, and having caused to adhere some unbroken grains of rice, she received their benediction. Hearing from an attendant that Krishna has arrived, the Princess is filled with ecstatic delight, so that she cannot contain herself; and leaning on the arm of an attendant, in a graceful att.i.tude, remains slightly smiling, in such a manner that no description can express her beauty. The guards become fascinated and remain immoveable. With trembling frame and coy of heart she finally departs with Krishna.”
The domestic life and appearance of Krishna and Rukminee is still further characteristically described in the imaginative pages of the ”Ocean of Love:” -- ”Once on a time, in a palace of gold, studded with jewels, a gem-adorned bedstead, with curtains, was spread, on which a bedding white as foam, and adorned with flowers, with pillows for the cheek and for the head, continued to exhale perfumes. On all four sides of the bed vessels containing camphor, rose-water, saffron, sandal oil, and other ingredients, were placed; various kinds of marvellous pictures were delineated on the walls on all sides. In recesses, here and there, flowers, fruits, sweetmeats, and confections were placed, and all that could be required for enjoyment was at hand. Clothed in a petticoat and a full loose robe of dazzling splendour, embroidered with pearls, and a sparkling boddice, and a long refulgent wrapper, and wearing a glittering veil, covered with ornaments from head to foot; with red lines drawn across the forehead, having a nose-ring of the largest pearls, ornaments for the head, earrings, ornamental line at the parting of the hair, marks between the eyebrows, ornaments for the ears and forehead, a necklace composed of circular pieces of gold, a string of gold beads and coral, a breast ornament, a necklace of five strings and of seven, a pearl necklace, double and triple bracelets of nine gems, armlets, wristlets, and other kinds of fastenings for the arm; bangles, seals; seal rings, a girdle of bells, rings for the great toe, toe ornaments, anklets, and other ornaments of all kinds studded with jewels; the moon-faced, tulip-complexioned, gazelle-eyed, bird-voiced, elephant-gaited, slim-waisted, divine Rukminee, and the cloud-coloured, lotus-eyed Krishna, ocean of beauty, splendour of the three worlds, root of joy, wearing a diadem like the crest of a peac.o.c.k, and a necklace of forest flowers, a silken robe of yellow hue, and a scarf of the same, were reposing, when, all of sudden, the divine Krishna said to Rukminee, 'Listen, fair one,' ” &c.
Krishna afterwards takes 16,100 wives, and always at early dawn, one would wash his face, another would apply a fragrant paste to his body, another would prepare for him and give him to eat food of six flavours, another would make nice betel, with cloves, cardamums, mace, and nutmegs, for her beloved. ”Each produced a daughter fair as Rukminee; each ten sons, brave sons were they! 161,000 and all alike, such were the sons of Krishna!”
Such is part of the history of the favourite divinity of the benighted Hindoo as related in the flowery pages of the ”Ocean of Love,” and the history may be, more or less, read in the every-day scenes of Indian life which pa.s.s around one.
The description of Rukminee, strange as it is, corresponds with many other fair portraits in the Hindee; witness that of ”Oonmadinee,”
the daughter of ”Rutundutt”: --
”Her beauty was like a light in a dark house -- her eyes were those of a deer, her curls like female snakes, her eyebrows like a bow, her nose like a parrot's, her teeth like a string of pearls, her lips like the red gourds, her neck like a pigeon's, her waist like a leopard's, her hands and feet like a soft lotus, her face like the moon, with the gait of a goose, and the voice of a cuckoo!”
More apparent even than in the earthly nature of the Hindoo's conception of the Divine attributes, the falsity and the human origin of his Faith may be seen in the effect it produces wherever it is allowed to obtain undivided sway. Combining dirt, idleness, and religion together, the Hindoo f.u.keer, attired in the minutest rag of raiment, at times in none at all, wanders from place to place, and with long and matted hair, blood-shot haggard eyes, and scowling visage, fancies himself upon the path which leads direct to Paradise.
Attenuated to the last degree, he suffers all extremes of heat and cold, sleeps upon a bed of ashes, and sits moodily beneath the burning mid-day sun, lives on charity while scorning usually to ask for alms, and bears the reputation of a saint while reducing himself to the very level of the beasts that perish.
Something of the cheerful feelings which actuate these religious mendicants may be found in the following pa.s.sage: -- ”He may be called a wise 'Jogee,' or 'f.u.keer,' who has dried up the reservoir of hope with the fire of austere devotion, and who has subdued his mind, and kept the organs of sense in their proper place; and this is the condition of persons in this world, that their bodies undergo dissolution, their heads shake, and their teeth fall out. When men become old, they walk about with sticks, and it is thus that time pa.s.ses away. Night succeeds day, and year succeeds month, and old age succeeds childhood, and we know not who we are ourselves, and who others are; one comes and another departs; and at last all living creatures must depart. And, behold! night pa.s.ses away, and then day dawns; the moon goes down and the sun rises; thus does youth depart, and old age comes on, and thus Time pursues his course: but although man sees all these things, he does not become wise. There are bodies of many kinds, and minds of many kinds, and affections or fascinations of many kinds, and Brahma has created wickedness of many kinds; but a wise man, having escaped from these, and having subdued hope and avarice, and shaved his head, and taken a stick and water-pot in his hands, having subjugated the pa.s.sion of love and anger, and become a 'Jogee,'
who wanders and travels about with naked feet to places of pilgrimage, obtains final liberation. And, behold, this world is like a dream.”
The derivation of the word ”f.u.keer,” and an ill.u.s.tration of the disposition of the mendicant race, is given in a Persian tale, called the ”Four Dervishes.” The story was originally narrated to amuse a king of Delhi, who was sick, and was afterwards DONE into Hindostanee by a Mussulman author, who styles himself, ”This wicked sinner, Meer Ammun of Delhi.”
The speaker, a certain prince, who aspires to the t.i.tle of ”generous,”
has built a lofty house, with forty high and s.p.a.cious doors, where, at all times, from morning to evening, he gives rupees and gold mohurs[35]
to the poor and necessitous, and whoever asks for anything he satisfies him. ”One day a f.u.keer came to the front door and begged. I gave him a gold mohur; again he came to a second door, and asked for two gold mohurs. I pa.s.sed over the matter, and gave him two gold mohurs.
”In this manner he came to every door, and asked for an additional gold mohur each time, and I gave him according to his request. Having come to the fortieth door, and received forty gold mohurs, he came in again by the first door, and begged afresh.
”This appeared to me a very bad action on his part. I said to him, 'O avaricious man! what sort of mendicant art thou, who knowest not the three letters of ”f.u.kur” (POVERTY), according to which a f.u.keer should act?' The f.u.keer said, 'Well, O liberal person, do you explain them to me.' I replied, 'The three letters are F, K, and R. From F comes ”faka”
(FASTING); from K, ”kinaut” (CONTENTMENT); and from R comes ”reeazut”
(ABSTINENCE). He is not a f.u.keer in whom these qualities are not. Oh, avaricious creature! you have taken from forty doors, from one gold mohur to forty. Calculate, therefore, how many you have received. And, in addition to this, your avarice has brought you again to the first door. Expend what you have received, and return and take whatever you ask for. A f.u.keer should take thought for one day; on the second day there will be some fresh bestower of alms.' Having heard this speech of mine, he became angry and dissatisfied, and threw all he had received from me on the ground, and said, 'Enough, father; be not so warm; take all your presents back again. Do not again a.s.sume the name of ”Liberal.” You cannot lift the weights of liberality. When will you arrive at that day's journey?'
”When I heard this I was alarmed, and with many solicitations asked him to forgive my fault, and to take whatsoever he wished. He would not accept my gifts at all, and went away saying, 'If you were now to offer me your whole kingdom I would not receive it from you.' ”
This studied indifference about a matter of more than a thousand pounds, though perhaps not often exercised upon so large a scale, is just that which these wandering fanatics display towards every offering they receive, and in every action of their useless lives. Whatever may be said against them, however, their profession of poverty and suffering is no mockery, as was that of the well-fed ”monks of old,”