The Rājpūts also worship the sun, whom many of them look upon as their first ancestor. They revere the animals and trees sacred to the Hindus, and some clans show special veneration to a particular tree, never cutting or breaking the branches or leaves. In this manner the Bundelas revere the kadamb tree, the Panwārs the nīm[14] tree, the Rāthors the pīpal[15] tree, and so on. This seems to be a relic of totemistic usage. In former times each clan had also a tribal god, who was its protector and leader and watched over the destinies of the clan. Sometimes it accompanied the clan into battle. “Every royal house has its palladium, which is frequently borne to battle at the saddle-bow of the prince. Rao Bhima Hāra of Kotah lost his life and protecting deity together. The celebrated Khīchi (Chauhān) leader Jai Singh never took the field without the god before him. ‘Victory to Bujrung’ was his signal for the charge so dreaded by the Marātha, and often has the deity been sprinkled with his blood and that of the foe.”[16] It is said that a Rājpūt should always kill a snake if he sees one, because the snake, though a prince among Rājpūts, is an enemy, and he should not let it live. If he does not kill it, the snake will curse him and bring ill-luck upon him. The same rule applies, though with less binding force, to a tiger.
8. Food
The Rājpūts eat the flesh of clean animals, but not pigs or fowls. They are, however, fond of the sport of pig-sticking, and many clans, as the Bundelas and others, will eat the flesh of the wild pig. This custom was perhaps formerly universal. Some of them eat of male animals only and not of females, either because they fear that the latter would render them effeminate or that they consider the sin to be less. Some only eat animals killed by the method of jatka or severing the head with one stroke of the sword or knife. They will not eat animals killed in the Muhammadan fashion by cutting the throat. They abstain from the flesh of the nīlgai or blue bull as being an animal of the cow tribe. Among the Brāhmans and Rājpūts food cooked with water must not be placed in bamboo baskets, nor must anything made of bamboo be brought into the rasoya or cooking-place, or the chauka, the space cleaned and marked out for meals. A special brush of date-palm fibre is kept solely for sweeping these parts of the house. At a Rājpūt banquet it was the custom for the prince to send a little food from his own plate or from the dish before him to any guest whom he especially wished to honour, and to receive this was considered a very high distinction. In Mewār the test of legitimacy in a prince of the royal house was the permission to eat from the chief’s plate. The grant of this privilege conferred a recognised position, while its denial excluded the member in question from the right to the succession.[17] This custom indicates the importance attached to the taking of food together as a covenant or sacrament.
9. Opium
The Rājpūts abstain from alcoholic liquor, though some of the lower class, as the Bundelas, drink it. In classical times there is no doubt that they drank freely, but have had to conform to the prohibition of liquor imposed by the Brāhmans on high-caste Hindus. In lieu of liquor they became much addicted to the noxious drugs, opium and gānja or Indian hemp, drinking the latter in the form of the intoxicating liquid known as bhāngs, which is prepared from its leaves. Bhāng was as a rule drunk by the Rājpūts before battle, and especially as a preparation for those last sallies from a besieged fortress in which the defenders threw away their lives. There is little reason to doubt that they considered the frenzy and carelessness of death produced by the liquor as a form of divine possession. Opium has contributed much to the degeneration of the Rājpūts, and their relapse to an idle, sensuous life when their energies were no longer maintained by the need of continuous fighting for the protection of their country. The following account by Forbes of a Rājpūt’s daily life well illustrates the slothful effeminacy caused by the drug:[18] “In times of peace and ease the Rājpūt leads an indolent and monotonous life. It is usually some time after sunrise before he bestirs himself and begins to call for his hookah; after smoking he enjoys the luxury of tea or coffee, and commences his toilet and ablutions, which dispose of a considerable part of the morning. It is soon breakfast-time, and after breakfast the hookah is again in requisition, with but few intervals of conversation until noon. The time has now arrived for a siesta, which lasts till about three in the afternoon. At this hour the chief gets up again, washes his hands and face, and prepares for the great business of the day, the distribution of the red cup, kusumba or opium. He calls together his friends into the public hall, or perhaps retires with them to a garden-house. Opium is produced, which is pounded in a brass vessel and mixed with water; it is then strained into a dish with a spout, from which it is poured into the chief’s hand. One after the other the guests now come up, each protesting that kusumba is wholly repugnant to his taste and very injurious to his health, but after a little pressing first one and then another touches the chief’s hand in two or three places, muttering the names of Deos (gods), friends or others, and drains the draught. Each after drinking washes the chief’s hand in a dish of water which a servant offers, and after wiping it dry with his own scarf makes way for his neighbour. After this refreshment the chief and his guests sit down in the public hall, and amuse themselves with chess, draughts or games of chance, or perhaps dancing-girls are called in to exhibit their monotonous measures, or musicians and singers, or the never-failing favourites, the Bhāts and Chārans. At sunset the torch-bearers appear and supply the chamber with light, upon which all those who are seated therein rise and make obeisance towards the chief’s cushion. They resume their seats, and playing, singing, dancing, story-telling go on as before. At about eight the chief rises to retire to his dinner and his hookah, and the party is broken up.” There is little reason to doubt that the Rājpūts ascribed a divine character to opium and the mental exaltation produced by it, as suggested in the article on Kalār in reference to the Hindus generally. Opium was commonly offered at the shrines of deified Rājpūt heroes. Colonel Tod states: “Umul lār khāna, to eat opium together, is the most inviolable, pledge, and an agreement ratified by this ceremony is stronger than any adjuration.”[19] The account given by Forbes of the manner in which the drug was distributed by the chief from his own hand to all his clansmen indicates that the drinking of it was the renewal of a kind of pledge or covenant between them, analogous to the custom of pledging one another with wine, and a substitute for the covenant made by taking food together, which originated from the sacrificial meal. It has already been seen that the Rājpūts attached the most solemn meaning and virtue to the act of partaking of the chief’s food, and it is legitimate to infer that they regarded the drinking of a sacred drug like opium from his hand in the same light. The following account[20] of the drinking of healths in a Highland clan had, it may be suggested, originally the same significance as the distribution of opium by the Rājpūt chief: “Lord Lovat was wont in the hall before dinner to have a kind of herald proclaiming his pedigree, which reached almost up to Noah, and showed each man present to be a cadet of his family, whilst after dinner he drank to every one of his cousins by name, each of them in return pledging him—the better sort in French claret, the lower class in husky (whisky).” Here also the drinking of wine together perhaps implied the renewal of a pledge of fealty and protection between the chief and his clansmen, all of whom were held to be of his kin. The belief in the kinship of the whole clan existed among the Rājpūts exactly as in the Scotch clans. In speaking of the Rāthors Colonel Tod states that they brought into the field fifty thousand men, Ek bāp ka beta, the sons of one father, to combat with the emperor of Delhi; and remarks: “What a sensation does it not excite when we know that a sentiment of kindred pervades every individual of this immense affiliated body, who can point out in the great tree the branch of his origin, of which not one is too remote from the main stem to forget his pristine connection with it.”[21]
The taking of opium and wine together, as already described, thus appear to be ceremonies of the same character, both symbolising the renewal of a covenant between kinsmen.
10. Improved training of Rājpūt chiefs
The temptations to a life of idleness and debauchery to which Rājpūt gentlemen were exposed by the cessation of war have happily been largely met and overcome by the careful education and training which their sons now receive in the different chiefs’ colleges and schools, and by the fostering of their taste for polo and other games. There is every reason to hope that a Rājpūt prince’s life will now be much like that of an English country gentleman, spent largely in public business and the service of his country, with sport and games as relaxation. Nor are the Rājpūts slow to avail themselves of the opportunities for the harder calling of arms afforded by the wars of the British Empire, in which they are usually the first to proffer their single-hearted and unselfish assistance.
11. Dress
The most distinctive feature of a Rājpūt’s dress was formerly his turban; the more voluminous and heavy this was, the greater distinction attached to the bearer. The cloth was wound in many folds above the head, or cocked over one ear as a special mark of pride. An English gentleman once remarked to the minister of the Rao of Cutch on the size and weight of his turban, when the latter replied, ‘Oh, this is nothing, it only weighs fifteen pounds.’[22] A considerable reverence attached to the turban, probably because it was the covering of the head, the seat of life, and the exchanging of turbans was the mark of the closest friendship. On one occasion Shāh Jahān, before he came to the throne of Delhi, changed turbans with the Rāna of Mewār as a mark of amity. Shāh Jahān’s turban was still preserved at Udaipur, and seen there by Colonel Tod in 1820. They also wore the beard and moustaches very long and full, the moustache either drooping far below the chin, or being twisted out stiffly on each side to impart an aspect of fierceness. Many Rājpūts considered it a disgrace to have grey beards or moustaches, and these were accustomed to dye them with a preparation of indigo. Thus dyed, however, after a few days the beard and moustache assumed a purple tint, and finally faded to a pale plum colour, far from being either deceptive or ornamental. The process of dyeing was said to be tedious, and the artist compelled his patient to sit many hours under the indigo treatment with his head wrapped up in plantain leaves.[23] During the Muhammadan wars, however, the Rājpūts gave up their custom of wearing beards in order to be distinguished from Moslems, and now, as a rule, do not retain them, while most of them have also discarded the long moustaches and large turbans. In battle, especially when they expected to die, the Rājpūts wore saffron-coloured robes as at a wedding. At the same time their wives frequently performed sati, and the idea was perhaps that they looked on their deaths as the occasion of a fresh bridal in the warrior’s Valhalla. Women wear skirts and shoulder-cloths, and in Rājputāna they have bangles of ivory or bone instead of the ordinary glass, sometimes covering the arm from the shoulders to the wrist. Their other ornaments should be of gold if possible, but the rule is not strictly observed, and silver and baser metals are worn.