LACHHMĪ, THE GODDESS OF BEAUTY.
There is to be a raffle for an English imported chestnut horse. I have taken a ticket, but not without first invoking Lachhmī, the goddess of beauty and prosperity. She who is painted yellow, and dwells in a water-lily, the goddess of fortunate signs; she who holds the water-lily in her hands, she in whom all take refuge, the wife of Hŭrēē.
If a man be growing rich, the Hindoos say, “Lachhmī is gone to abide in his house:” if he be sinking into poverty, “Lachhmī has forsaken him.” If they wish to abuse a man they call him “Lachhmī-chara,” i.e. luckless.
LACHHMĪ THE GODDESS OF BEAUTY.
فاني پارکس
Vishnoo obtained this goddess of beauty from the sea, when it was churned by the good and evil spirits for the amrita, or immortal beverage. Like Venus she arose beautiful from the foam of the ocean, ascended to the heavens, and captivated all the gods.
In the sketch which I copied from a native picture at Prāg, the beautiful goddess, seated in a water-lily, is bathing in a novel style. Four elephants, from their trunks, are pouring the Ganges water over her.
Oh! Lachhmī, send the chestnut horse to abide in my stables! let me rejoice in Akbal! (good fortune.)
“From the body of Lachhmī the fragrance of the lotus extends 800 miles. This goddess shines like a continued blaze of lightning!”
It is as well to remark, with respect to this sketch, that at the end of each of the trunks of the four elephants there is a turn, which, in the original old Hindoo drawing from which I copied it, I could not comprehend. In putting it on stone I left those four turns, but not quite so large as in the original. Since which time I have minutely examined a marble image in my possession, of two elephants pouring water over the head of the beautiful goddess, who appears seated on a water-lily, with a chatr, the emblem of royalty, over her head, and the buds of the lotus in her hands.
Each of these elephants holds in his trunk one of those long-necked globe-shaped bottles, in which the pilgrims carry holy water, and from them they are pouring the liquid. It is possible that the circles that are indistinct in the Hindoo drawing of the four elephants may have been the outlines of such bottles.
However, the sea-born goddess is placed in a much more picturesque point of view, if you imagine her as she appears, floating in the beautiful and pure blossom of the lotus, while bathed from the trunks of the elephants with the sacred water of the Ganges.
Since our arrival from Cawnpore, I have never mounted my horse, my spirits have been too much depressed.
June 1st.—Finding myself ill for want of exercise, I commenced rising early; dressing by candlelight, going out by moonlight, and mounting my horse at half-past 3 A.M.! What an unnatural life! The buggy is always sent forward to await my arrival at a certain spot; I never draw my horse’s rein until I arrive at the place, the heat is so much greater when you walk your horse. I return in the buggy at 6 A.M., go to bed for a couple of hours, bathe, and appear at breakfast.
How often “Chār vajr, barī fajr,” i.e. four o’clock in the early dawn, sleepy and unwilling to exert myself, have I thought of the proverb:—“Oh, thou who art so fond of sleep, why don’t you die at once[79]?”
To-day the heat is dreadful; 89° even at the mouth of the thermantidote, and in the other parts of the house six degrees higher! After my early canter, I did not quit my chārpāī until 3 P.M., so completely was I exhausted by the heat.
Although by nature not inclined to the melting mood, I felt as if I should dissolve, such streams from my forehead, such thirst, and lassitude; I really “thaw, and resolve myself into a dew.” The call all day is soda-water, soda-water.
To the 21st of June, this oppressive weather held its sway; our only consolation grapes, iced-water, and the thermantidote, which answers admirably, almost too well, as on the 22nd I was laid up with rheumatic fever and lumbago, occasioned, they tell me, by standing, or sleeping before it after coming in from a canter before sunrise.
22nd.—Heavy rain fell, the thermantidote was stopped, and the tattīs taken down; nor were they replaced, as the rain poured down almost night and day from that time until the end of the month.
30th.—We had a party at home: the thermometer during the day 88°; after dinner it rose to 91°, in consequence of the numerous lamps in the rooms, and the little multitude of servants in attendance.
A LIST OF SERVANTS IN A PRIVATE FAMILY.
During the hot winds, a number of extra coolies, twelve or fourteen, are necessary, if you have more than one thermantidote, or if you keep it going all night as well as during the day; these men, as well as an extra bihishti, are discharged when the rains set in.
We, as quiet people, find these servants necessary. Some gentlemen for state add an assa burdar, the bearer of a long silver staff; and a sonta burdar, or chob-dar, who carries a silver club, with a grim head on the top of it. The business of these people is to announce the arrival of company.
If many dogs are kept, an extra doriya will be required.
The above is a list of our own domestics, and the rate of their wages.
The heat of the climate, added to the customs and prejudices of the natives, oblige you to keep a number of servants; but you do not find them in food as in England. One man will not do the work of another, but says, “I shall lose caste,” which caste, by the bye, may be regained by the expenditure of a few rupees in a dinner to their friends and relatives. The Mohammadan servants pretend they shall lose caste; but, in fact, they have none: the term is only applicable to the Hindoos.
If your khānsāmān and sirdar-bearer are good and honest servants, you have little or no trouble with an Indian household; but, unless you are fortunate with your head servants, there is great trouble in keeping between fifty or sixty domestics in order.
CHAPTER XX.
SCENES AT ALLAHABAD—PILGRIMAGE TO THE TRIVENI.
The old Brahman—The Triveni—The Achivut—The Pātal Pooree—Temples of Bhardoajmun—Radha Krishnŭ—Hindoo oath—The Tulsī—The Peepul-tree—The Letin leaves—Lamps in the air—Paintings on Ubruk—Impressions on leaves and flowers—The Mootee Musjid—The Crows a pest—Byā birds—Haymaking—The silver Tankard—An Earthquake—Transferring diseases to flowers—Perjury—Farming operations—Oats—Bhoodder Ram the Dwarf—The Camel—The Powder-works and Rocket manufactory.
1831, July 6th.—I study the customs and superstitions of the Hindoos so eagerly, that my friends laugh and say, “We expect some day to see you at pooja in the river!”
In one of the temples near the Circuit bungalow, I was surprised at seeing two small brazen figures of Krishnŭ and his love Radha, or, to speak more correctly, of Radha Krishnŭ, dressed up in silks and satins. Making a reverence, “Salāmut,” I exclaimed, in Hindostani, “yah! yah!” “Oh, my father, what a beautiful Krishnŭ is this! and there is Radha the beloved. This is, indeed, a Krishnŭ; I never saw so beautiful a fellow!” The old Brahman made many salāms and reverences, exclaiming, “There is an excellent mem sāhiba! she understands all, she understands every thing!” As Krishnŭ of yore charmed every woman who beheld him, so that quitting all on earth they followed and worshipped him alone, I suppose the old Hindoo imagined his god still retained the power of fascination.