THE TEMPLES OF BHARDOAJMUN.
The third holy spot visited by the devotees are some mhuts, Hindoo temples, about two miles from the fort, near the circuit Bungalow. This spot was formerly the abode of Bhardoajmun, a fakir, and here he displayed his red flag from a bamboo. This Bhardoajmun was a very holy man; after his departure, or after his ashes had been consigned to Gunga-jee, some temples were raised on the spot, and dedicated to Mahadēo, the great god. There are three principal mhuts, in one of which is a white marble image or form of Mahadēo, with four faces, very well executed. In the second is an image in stone of the old fakir himself, about fifteen inches high, to which divine honours are paid. There are, counting all the small mhuts, some nine or ten temples, under the shade of very fine tamarind trees, which are very picturesque. The eyes of the images are covered with thin silver plates, and the eyes themselves are about five times larger than the natural size; in one of the temples the face of the idol was covered or made of a thin plate of gold.
One of the temples is dedicated to Varaha, an avatār or incarnation of Vishnoo; and represents a man with a boar’s head, on whose tusks rests a crescent, containing in its concavity an epitome of the earth, which had been immerged in the ocean as a punishment for its iniquities,—the story of the deluge. Vishnoo, in the form of a boar, dived into the abyss, and restored the earth on the points of his tusks. This is the first temple I have seen dedicated to Varaha: also, for the first time, I here saw a shrine, sacred to Radha Krishnŭ, the wife of a cowherd, whom Krishnŭ carried off from her husband to a forest on the banks of the Jumna, where they resided for some time; she has been deified with the god, and her image is worshipped at his festivals. If a Hindoo be charged with any particular act, of which he wishes to express his abhorrence, he exclaims “Radha Krishnŭ!” Many persons repeat, “Ram, Ram, Ram!” on such occasions, but no one says Seeta Ram; yet, when Krishnŭ’s name is to be repeated they always join to it that of his beloved Radha. It has passed into a proverb, “Apne Radha ko yad ker.” As Krishnŭ always thought of Radha, so they say, “Attend to your own Radha[82],” either in anger or laughingly; i.e. attend to your own business.
What a noise the people are making! a Hindoo is taking an oath. The man is holding in both hands a lota, a brass drinking vessel, filled with Ganges water, on which is placed a sprig of the sacred tulsī, and by Gunga-jee he swears. I would bet ten to one all he is swearing is false, from the elevation of his voice, and his insisting so strongly on its being true. In the plate, entitled “[The Thug’s Dice],” figure 4 represents a highly ornamented small brass lota, containing the Ganges water, and a sprig of the kālā tulsī on the top of it.
The tulsī or tulasī is a native of India, and there are several sorts of it. The kālā tulsī, purple-stalked basil, (ocymum sanctum,) is more especially worshipped by the Hindoos, and is the most sacred of all the tulsīs. The Malays cultivate this plant with care, for the purpose of strewing on graves; it is highly aromatic.
Suffaid tulsī, white basil, or Indian tea, (ocymum album,) seldom rises more than a foot high; the stem is of a greenish white colour, and woody at the base; the leaves, which are two or three inches long, have an aromatic taste and agreeable smell.
Mummerree, or nazbo, (ocymum pilosum,) ciliated basil: the scent is delicious and powerful; the bruised leaves have an odour resembling that of lemon. The Baghuts (a class of Hindoos who neither eat meat nor drink wine,) wear rosaries made of the root of the tulsī. These plants are all considered sacred. But to return to the man of whose veracity I felt in doubt: Their own proverbs condemn the Hindoos: “What need of economy in telling lies[83]?” and to a man who has an unconquerable habit of lying, they apply a very singular proverb[84].
THE PEEPUL TREE (FICUS RELIGIOSA).
A peepul tree grows on the banks of the Jumna, just in front of our house; the fine old tree moans in the wind, and the rustling of the leaves sounds like the falling of rain; this is accounted for by the almost constant trembling of its beautiful and sacred leaves, which is occasioned by the great length and delicacy of the foot stalks; whence it is called Chalada, or the tree with tremulous leaves. The leaves are of a beautiful bright glossy green, heart-shaped, scalloped, and daggered; from their stalks, when gathered, a milky juice pours out; on wounding the bark of the trunk this milk is also poured out, with which the natives prepare a kind of birdlime.