In Kali's Country: Tales from Sunny India

by Emily Churchill Thompson Sheets

Our people have lived in India for many generations, but they have kept themselves separate from the other peoples. There has been very little intermarriage; we have kept our own religion; and we are practically a distinct people. Of course in our religion and our social customs we have been somewhat influenced by the Hindus and Mohammedans among whom we have lived so long; but we differ from them greatly. We believe in education and begin to teach our children early in life. We believe in monogamy and a happy family life. We are industrious, keen, and honest in business; and I am not overstating facts when I tell you that we are the bankers and most important business people in India. Of course we are not many in number compared with the dense population of this great land, but we are scattered throughout the whole of it, and hold, as a rule, the places of greatest influence.

Let me throw your orange peel out of this window which is already open. You've let your husband take your satchel into his compartment and you haven't a towel? That's too bad! I have a perfectly clean one in my bag; won't you please use it?

Oh, please don't mention it. I assure you it is a pleasure to me. I suppose you are more accustomed to the first-class lavatories, but, really, our second-class accommodations are comfortable; don't you think so?

No, indeed. I don't mind interruptions in my story. I'll rearrange my bag while you are gone, for I packed in a hurry and I don't just know where my things are.

It is convenient to have a lavatory for every compartment. Isn't it so in America? You don't have compartments at all! Why, how funny! I can't imagine what your trains must be like. Miss Miller says that she will take me to America with her some time. But I don't believe I'd like to leave India even for a little while, interesting as America must be.

Yes, I'll go on with my story. Well, I was the daughter of a wealthy Parsi in Bombay and we had a beautiful home in a part of the city which is now not quite so pleasant, for Bombay as it has grown towards one million in population has changed very much. I had a governess and even at ten I began the study of English in connection with my regular lessons and music. When I was about thirteen, my father, who was really a little more advanced than the average Parsi, decided to have English only spoken in our household. Knowing the value of the language in commercial relations he considered it a very important part of an education.

But I must tell you about our, that is the Parsi, religion. We are the followers of Zoroaster, you know, and we believe that God is represented by fire. Therefore fire is sacred and in our temples a fire is always kept burning, with an order of priesthood to care for it. You can see how this belief might degenerate and become a worship of fire itself, as I fear it has with many people. Even the fires in our homes have to be cared for with ceremonies of various kinds. We are taught that one should be faithful to his wife; that every one should be charitable. But we do believe in demons and must go through all sorts of rites to keep them away. You see I can't give you more than the briefest account of our belief, for it is more or less complicated as all beliefs are, but I wanted you to see that in almost every way it is superior to the other religions of India, but still lacking the vital elements of Christianity. One strange thing about our teaching is that we are not told to try to get converts; indeed, the Parsis do not want any new believers. Isn't that strange? Really, I must confess that I think we are a very self-satisfied people in every respect.

At first we did not believe in early marriages, but in that respect we have been gradually influenced by the Hindus. So at fourteen I was married to the son of a rich merchant. Of course my husband was chosen for me, but he proved to be a fine young man and we were very happy together. Part of the wedding ceremonies took place, as our weddings usually do, in the large public wedding hall which probably you saw in Bombay. Really, the customs have got to be so elaborate that a poor Parsi can hardly marry off a child without being in debt for the rest of his life. Fortunately our family, as I have said, did not lack for money and everything was beautiful. It was, indeed, a very happy and joyous occasion, a prophecy of our life together. For we were very, very happy for eight years. My husband was an unusual young man and gave promise of surpassing his father in business sagacity and literary ability. Our little girl came after two years of marriage and she was dearly beloved by him, although, of course, he would have liked a son. We were happy, oh, so happy! After he died it used to hurt me so to think about it that for two years I never spoke of my married life to any one, but since I have found Jesus, I love to think about it and speak of it.

But one day our joy was turned to sadness and our gladness to grief, for my husband was smitten with enteric fever. You know how prevalent that is here in India and how often fatal. He had been overworking at his office and in the study. Our family was too enlightened to believe that the illness was caused by demons, as most of our people do, and he was not neglected as most of our sick people are, but he had the best of English medical attention and the most tender nursing from us. He was young and strong and we fought hard, but after six weeks of deepest anxiety and all the devotion I could lavish upon him, I saw him sink away and leave me.