The Autobiography of an Indian Princess

by Maharani of Cooch Behar Sunity Devee

The marriage is not concluded until the morning of the second day, when the bridegroom takes the bride to his father’s house, and this affords an opportunity for the hospitality the Indian delights to show. For a mile or two the route taken by the wedding procession is sometimes sprinkled with rose-water, and the lights flash. “It is a son who is getting married,” says the proud father, and he remembers with satisfaction that this home-coming has been fixed for a lucky day and a lucky hour. The bride must also be lucky, for does she not walk gently and speak gently? And is not her forehead of the right shape? Certainly she has not the prominent forehead that brings bad luck.

When the bride arrives at her future home, her husband’s sisters throw water and money under the palki, and the jewel-covered little girl is lifted out by her mother-in-law and placed upon a large plate filled with milk and alta (a sort of rose-coloured confection), upon which she stands until the marriage ceremony is over. Then the newly-married couple sit upon a new cloth and receive presents and blessings from the bridegroom’s friends and relations.

“May you speak like honey,” whispers a maiden as she touches the pretty lips of the bride with honey. “May you hear sweetness like honey,” she continues, as she drops honey into the small ears. Then the bridegroom’s mother comes forward, gives the bride a pair of bangles and lifts the head-dress which hides her face. As she does this the guests have an opportunity of seeing the blushing little face, and begin to praise her looks, the mother-in-law meanwhile saying, “This is my Lakshmi” (goddess of luck).

On the third day gifts arrive from the bride’s father: gifts of jewels, dresses, sweets, scents, soaps—sometimes to the number of five hundred or a thousand. Porters bring them in and the bride and bridegroom change into the new robes. This ceremony is called the Feast of Merriment, for everyone is gay. On the third evening there is another ceremony called the “Fullsaya” (flower ceremony), when the bride is adorned with flowers and the rooms are filled with them. The meaning of this is: Nature with flowers comes to bless the newly united couple.

We thought more of New Year’s Day than Christmas Day, probably because that was my father’s custom. On New Year’s Day we gave each other presents, had dinner parties and sent sweets, fruits, and vegetables to friends. Since we lost my father we have regarded New Year’s Day as of more importance than ever, because it is the day on which he opened the Sanctuary at Lily Cottage and preached there his last sermon.

We have a festival which is sometimes held in February, sometimes in March, according to the moon, called “Hooly.” It was founded in honour of the Hindu god Krishna, and is one of the most enjoyable days in a Hindu household. Buckets and huge tumblers are filled with rose-water which is coloured with red powder. Then the ladies in all the different courtyards load syringes with the red liquid and, singing and dancing, maid and mistress, old and young, relations and friends, squirt each other amid screams of delight. Afterwards presents of garments are made all round, for the old saris are stained with red. The servants who cannot play put a little red powder on their master’s and mistress’s feet. This festival is known as the Merry Festival.

In India, religious festival days are chiefly distinguished by their entertainments. My readers will perhaps be surprised at this, but it is true. On festival days banana trees are placed on each side of the house door, and, at the foot of the trees, large earthern pitchers filled with water, and a big cocoa-nut. These are the lucky signs denoting an auspicious occasion. A band plays during the whole of the festival. Every one’s house is open to rich and poor. Every one receives presents, often very valuable, and no one is too poor to receive something.

Some years ago a poor Brahmin wanted to have durga puja; he was so poor that he had to beg from door to door in order to get a little money to buy the puja articles and to entertain at breakfast and dinner the people who came to see the goddess. This time he could only obtain very little money, but still he invited a small number of guests and when they arrived they were surprised to find the goddess not properly dressed. “How is it,” they asked severely, “that the goddess is left like this?” The poor Brahmin said: “I am a poor son of my Mother, and my Mother knows it; I haven’t money with which to dress her. The little I had I used to entertain my guests; if I had had more I would have invited more guests.”

There is another festival in India called “Bhaikota,” which is held in the autumn, in October or November, and is in honour of brothers. Early in the morning sisters bathe, put on new saris and wait for their brothers. When the brothers are seated, their sisters take small cups of sandalwood paste and with their little fingers put small paste marks on the foreheads of their brothers, saying, “As I put this mark on my brother’s forehead may there be no thorns at the door of Death. As Death is deathless, may my brother be deathless.” When the sisters say these words the conch shells are blown, and they give presents to their brothers, and to their cousins, generally of clothes. This ceremony is to show what a heavenly relationship there is between a brother and a sister. The younger sister touches the feet of the elder brother, and the elder sister puts her hands on the younger brother and blesses him.