About ten o'clock the son begins to perform the rite of the funeral obsequies, taking previously the permission of the Brahmins and the assembled guests to do so. The officiating priest reads the formulas, he repeating them. It must be noticed here that tenacious as the Hindoos are in respect of the distinction of caste, they do not scruple to invite lower orders on such an occasion, but they would not mix with them at the time of eating. The Dulloputty or head of the party, makes his appearance about this time; when he enters the house, all other guests then present, except the Brahmins, as a token of respect for his position, rise on their legs, and do not resume their seats until he sits down. For this distinction or honour a Dullopatty has to spend an immense sum of money, to which allusion has already been made. His appearance serves as a signal for the performance of the rite, called mala chandan, or the distribution of garlands and sandal paste among the assembled multitude. As a matter of course, the Brahmins by way of pre-eminence receive the first garland, and after them the Dullopatty obtains the same honour, and then the Koolins[123] and other guests according to rank. Where there is no Dullopatty, the garland is put round the neck of a boy, at which no one can take any offence, and afterwards they are distributed indiscriminately.
Meantime the son is engaged in the performance of the ceremony, while the bands of songsters quarrel with one another for the privilege of entertaining the audience with their songs, which renders confusion worse confounded. Female songsters of questionable virtue are now more in favor than their male rivals, which is an unerring proof of the degeneracy of the age. Only one band is formally engaged, but thirty bands may come of their own accord, quite uninvited. The disappointed ones generally get from two to four Rupees each, but the party retained gets much more, the rich guests coming in making them presents, besides what they obtain from the family retaining them.
About one in the afternoon, the ceremony is brought to a close, and the assembled multitudes begin to disperse. Those who have to attend their offices return earlier, but not without offering the compliments suited to the gravity of the occasion. Some of the Brahmins remain behind to receive their customary bidhay or gift. According to their reputation for learning they obtain their rewards. The first in the list gets, in ordinary cases, about five Rupees in cash, and one brass pot valued, at four or five Rupees, the second and third in proportion, and the rest, say, from one to two Rupees each, in addition to a brass utensil. The silver utensils of which the soroshes are made are afterwards cut and allotted to the Brahmins according to their worth or status in the republic of letters. The Gooroo or spiritual guide, and the Purrohit or officiating priest, being the most interested parties, generally carry off the lion's share. So great is their cupidity that the one disputes the right of the other as to the amount of reward they are respectively entitled to. As a matter of course, the Gooroo, from his spiritual ascendency, manages to carry off the highest prize. The distribution of rewards among the Brahmins and Pundits of different degrees of scholarly attainments, is a rather thankless task. In common with other human beings, they are seldom satisfied, especially when the question is one of Rupees. Each sets a higher value on his own descent and learning, undervaluing the worth of his compeers. The voice of the President, who has many a knotty question to solve, decides their fate, but it is seldom that a classification of this nature results in producing general satisfaction. As these Pundits, or rather professors, called Adhaypucks, do not eat in the house of Soodras, in addition to their reward in money and kind, they, each of them, receive a small quantity of sweetmeats and sugar, say about two pounds in all in lieu of achmany jalpan or fried and prepared food. On a Shrad day in the afternoon one can see numbers of such Brahmins walk through the native part of the city, with an earthen plate of sweetmeats in one hand and a brass pot in the other, the fruits of their day's labor. Such gains being quite precarious, and the prospect looming before them quite discouraging, the annual sum total they derive from this source is quite inadequate to their support, and that of the chottoos-pattee or school they keep. Hence many such institutions for the cultivation of Sanskrit have been abandoned for want of sufficient encouragement, and as a necessary consequence the sons and grandsons of these Brahmins have taken to secular occupations, quite incompatible with the spirit of the Shastra. In the halcyon days of Hindoo sovereignty, when Brahminical learning was in the ascendant and rich religious endowments were freely made for the support of the hierarchy,[124] as well from the influence of vanity as from the compunctions of a death-bed repentance, such chottoos-pattees annually sent forth many a brilliant scholar,—the pride of his professor and the ornament of his country. But the advancement of English education—the only passport to honor and emoluments—has necessarily laid, as it were, an embargo on the extensive culture of Brahminical erudition. The University curriculum, however, under the present Government, embraces a system well calculated to remove the reproach.
The day following the funeral ceremony is spent in giving an entertainment to the Brahmins, without which a Hindoo cannot regain his former purity. About twelve, they begin to assemble, and when the number reaches two or three hundred, Koosasan or grass seats in long straight rows are arranged for them in the spacious court-yard, and as Hindoos use nothing but green plantain leaves for plates on such grand occasions, each guest is provided with a cut piece on which are placed the fruits of the season, ghee-fried loochees and kachoories, and several sorts of sweetmeats in earthen plates for which there are no English names. In spite of the utmost vigilance of door-keepers and others, intruders in rather decent dress enter the premises and sit down to eat with the respectable Brahmins, but should such a character be found out, steps are instantly taken to oust him. On a grand occasion, some such unpleasant cases are sure to occur. There are loafers among Hindoos as there are among Europeans. These men, whom misfortune or crime has reduced to the last state of poverty, are prepared to put up with any amount of insult so long as they have their fill. When a Hindoo makes a calculation about the expenses of an entertainment at a Shrad or marriage (both grand occasions), he is constrained to double or treble his quantum of supply that he may be enabled to meet such a contingency without any inconvenience. The practice referred to is a most disreputable one, and beseems a people not far above the level of a Nomad tribe. Even some of the Brahmins[125] who are invited do not scruple to take a portion home, regardless of the contaminated touch of a person of the lowest order, simply because the temptation is too strong to be resisted. Before departure, each and every one of the Brahmins obtains one or two annas as dakhinah, a concession which is not accorded to any other caste.
The next day, a similar entertainment is given to the Káyastas and other classes, which is accompanied by the same noise, confusion and tumult that characterised the entertainment given on the previous day. The sober and quiet enjoyments of life which have a tendency to enliven the mind can seldom be expected in a Hindoo house of Shrad, where all is golemal, confusion and disorder. When a dinner is announced, a regular scramble takes place, the rude and the uninvited occupy the first seats to the exclusion of the genteel and respectable, and when the eatables are beginning to be served, the indecent cries of "bring loochee, bring kachoorie, bring tarkari," and so on, are heard every now and again, much to the disturbance of the polite and the discreet.
The day following is called the neeumbhanga, or the day on which the son is allowed to break the rules of mourning after one month. In the morning the band of songsters previously retained come and treat the family to songs of Krishna, taking care to select pieces which are most pathetic and heart-rending, befitting the mournful occasion of a very heavy domestic bereavement. The singing continues till twelve or one o'clock, and some people seem to be so deeply affected that they actually shed tears, and forget for a while their worldly cares and anxieties. When the songs are finished, the son and his nearest relatives, rubbing their bodies with oil and turmeric, remove the brisakat on their shoulders from the house to a place near it. A hole is made, and the brisakat (a painted log of wood about six feet high) with an ox on the top, &c., is put into it; after this they all bathe and return home. The songsters are dismissed with presents of money, clothes and food.
The son then sits down to a dinner with his nearest blood relation, and this is the first day that he leaves his habishee diet after a month's mourning, and takes to the use of fish and other Hindoo dishes. He is also allowed to change his mourning dress and put on shoes, after having made a present of a pair to a Brahmin; he, moreover, sleeps with his wife from this day as before, in fact he reverts to his former mode of living in every respect.
As the entertainment this time consists of vojan, made up of rice and curries, and not jalpan, made up of loochees and sweetmeats, comparatively a smaller number of guests assemble on the occasion[126] and that of loafers and intruders exhibits a very diminished proportion. Even on such occasions, one can always tell from a distance that there is a feast at such a house from the noise it is invariably attended with.
Having described above the details connected with the funeral ceremony, I will now endeavour to give an account of one or two of the most celebrated Shrads that took place in Bengal after the battle of Plassey, premising that every thing which shall be said on the subject is derived chiefly from hearsay, as no authentic historical records have come down to us. The first and most celebrated Shrad was that performed by Dewan Gunga Gobind Set, on the occasion of his mother's death. It was performed on so large a scale that he caused reservoirs to be made which were filled with ghee and oil, immense heaps of rice, flour and dhall were piled on the ground. Several large rooms were quite filled with sweetmeats of all sorts. Mountains of earthen pots and firewood were stacked on the Maidan. Hundreds of Brahmin cooks and confectioners were constantly at work to provide victuals for the enormous concourse of people. Silver and brass utensils of all kinds were arranged in pyramids. Hundreds of couches with bedding were placed before the Sabha, (assembly). Elephants richly caparisoned with silver trappings formed presents to Brahmins. Tens of thousands of silver coins bearing the stamp of Shah Allum were placed on massive silver plates. And to crown the whole, thousands of learned Pundits from all parts of the country congregated together to impart a religious solemnity to the spectacle. All these preparations lent a grandeur to the scene, which was in the highest degree imposing. Countless myriads of beggars from the most distant parts of the Province assembled together, and they were not only fed for weeks at the expense of the Dewan, but were dismissed with presents of money, clothes and food, with the most enthusiastic hosannas on their lips. For more than two months the distribution of alms and presents lasted, and what was the most praiseworthy feature in the affair was the Job-like patience of the Dewan, whose charity flowed like the rushing flood-tide of the holy Ganges on the banks of which he presented offerings to the manes of his ancestors. Some of the Adhapucks or Professors obtained as much as one thousand Rupees each in cash and gold and silver articles, or rather fragments of the same, to a considerable value. Besides these magnificent honorariums the whole of their travelling and lodging expenses were defrayed by the Dewan, who was reputed to be so rich that like Croesus of old he did not know how much he was worth; hence there is still a current saying amongst the Bengalees, which runs thus: "If ever money were wanted, Gouri Set will pay." Gouri Set was the son of Gunga Gobind Set. The expenses of the Shrad have been variously estimated at between ten and twelve lacks of Rupees. The result of this truly extravagant expenditure was wide-spread fame, and the name of the donor is still cherished with grateful remembrance. But as all human greatness is evanescent, the fame of the family for charity once unparalleled in the annals of Bengal has long since dwindled into insignificance.
The next Shrad of importance was that of Maharajah Nabkissen Bahadoor of Shobhabazar, Calcutta. His son Raja Rajkissen performed the Shrad, which, to this day, stands unrivalled in this city. Four sets of gold and sixty-four sets of silver utensils described before, amounting in value to near a lakh of Rupees, were given on the occasion. Such paraphernalia go by the name of dansagor or "gift like the sea." Besides these presents in money to Brahmins upwards of two lakhs of Rupees were given to the poor.