GIFTS IN INDIA
The purchase of land. A plot for a cemetery; the Patel gives
one. The Registrar's Court. The gift in jeopardy. Deed
successfully executed. The Patel suffers persecution.
Consecration of the cemetery. The Patel's chair. Hindus and
gifts. Demand for tips. Hindu boys dissatisfied.
Buying land in India is generally a troublesome business, and
difficulties are multiplied when it is required for missionary
purposes, because although the owner may be willing to sell, he is
often coerced not to part with his land by his co-religionists, who,
as they are not going to profit by the transaction, can afford to
adopt a high hand concerning it.
It took some years to secure a plot of ground for the burial of
Christians in the village of Yerandawana. A cemetery is not welcomed
as a near neighbour in any part of the world, and in India
particularly there are many additional prejudices which have to be
taken into account. Amongst these, there is a vague idea that it is
unlucky to sell land for such an object, and that it may result in the
early death of the vendor, or some member of his family.
It has been explained that this village is _inam_ to a mosque in Poona
City. Hence Government has only the same sort of control over village
affairs that it has over those of a native state, and there is no
Government land in the place. But the Collector gave the Patel a
friendly hint that he had better look round and see whether some
suitable plot for a Christian cemetery could not be found. He did so,
and an excellent site on one of his own fields proved to be available.
It was on gently sloping ground at the foot of a low range of hills,
quite away from any habitations, but easily accessible because an
ancient right-of-way led up to it.
The finding of a site, however, did not mean that all difficulties
were solved. Prettily situated as it was, and commanding a charming
view, it was a bit of ground useless for agricultural purposes. Even
the grass which grew upon it was so coarse and wiry that cattle would
not eat it. But the Patel's first suggestion as to price was that Rs.
1500 would be a desirable sum, and he went away rather disheartened on
being assured that his suggestion was impossible. When he came again,
we said that as the plot of ground was to be used for religious
purposes it would be best to put aside mercenary ideas and make a free
gift of it. The sudden notion struck him as a good one, and he agreed.
As we knew that when it became known many Hindus would try and
dissuade him from his purpose, we set to work at once to get the
matter officially confirmed; writing to the Collector to tell him of
the successful result of the negotiations, and enlisting the services
of a lawyer to draw up a proper deed of gift to the church.
All transactions connected with the transfer of land in India have to
be signed and sealed publicly in the Registrar's Court, and unless so
done the transaction is not binding. The system is excellent in
theory, but it is difficult to prevent abuses in its way of working.
All the court officials appeared to be Brahmins. Our cemetery case was
nearly wrecked in its passage through the Registrar's Court. The
proceedings in minor courts where there are no Englishmen are
conducted in leisurely fashion, with much desultory talk and waste of
time. Although the deed of gift was a simple matter, the attempt to
get it registered occupied some hours, and eventually was not
accomplished at all that day. During the long time of waiting various
people about the court went and talked with the Patel, and our lawyer
felt sure that pressure was being put upon him to get him to draw
back. Anyhow, it ended by his saying that he was not prepared to sign
the deed that day, and that he must consult his friends on some points
connected with it.
The lawyer arranged for an early date for a renewed attempt, feeling
sure that it was a case of "now" or "never." The Registrar arrived
only two hours behind time. The Brahmin officials were all smiles and
affability to me, saying what an excellent act of charity the Patel
was performing. The lawyer sat like a hawk over the clerk who was
copying out the deed, in order to see that he did not alter it in the
process, a trick which, he said, was not uncommon. Watching the
business of the court in progress, I felt how completely the more
ignorant people were in the hands of the permanent officials, and how
easy it would be to get a negotiation doctored to suit one's own ends.
It was with almost surprised relief that at the end of nearly three
hours we left the court possessors of the completed document, and the
acre of land was now the property of the Church of S. Crispin in
perpetuity. Villagers and others had been asking the Patel what he
meant by making gifts of land to Christians, and that if he wished to
endow temples, why did he not endow the Hindu temple? The Patel was
getting shaky, and was beginning to repent his promise. But, the act
once accomplished, he was glad that he had done it, and received our
thanks with a pleasing combination of pride and shamefacedness.
The legal completion of his charitable act intensified the wrath of
his Hindu neighbours. He was not popular in his village. He was weak
and vacillating in his attempts at government, and foolish and
dissipated in his private life. Not only did they taunt him with
giving land to Christians, and jeer at him as he passed by, but they
went to even greater lengths. Stones were flung at his door at night,
people gathered opposite his house and made unearthly noises,
invitations to ceremonial feasts were withheld, and at last he got so
alarmed at the spirit of opposition which he had raised that he made
one of the low-caste men of the village, who are under orders to the
Patel, accompany him whenever he was out after dark.
The want of perseverance in the Indian nature has, under some
circumstances, advantageous results. A spirit of opposition, unless
industriously fanned, soon dies down. After a month or two, the
cemetery incident had passed out of the minds of the villagers. A
stone cross, 15 feet high, had been erected on the site, and in the
early morning when the sun shines upon it, this cross is a conspicuous
object from the high-road. The holy sign in a prominent spot in a
heathen land is a refreshing sight. When the bishop consecrated the
cemetery and dedicated the cross, he handed over to the Patel a
handsome chair with a gay cushion, as a token of our appreciation of
his kindness. In his official position as head of the village he
sometimes has to receive Government officers coming to the place on
business. But as no one in the village possessed a chair, he had
hitherto been obliged apologetically to spread a blanket for his
guests to sit upon. Hence a chair of state was a really useful
present.
One or two graves were dug in readiness, according to the custom in
Indian cemeteries, because of the rapid burial necessary in a tropical
climate. But for more than three years there was no death in the
Christian settlement. At last one of the little boys in the Home,
described in a letter as "our youngest and our best," died suddenly of
plague, and was buried in the new plot, appropriately enough, on Holy
Innocents Day, 1911.
Someone asked, "Was the Patel pleased with his chair?" A Hindu is
rarely actually pleased with a gift, because, however large it may be,
he generally regrets that it is not larger. When it got whispered
abroad that the Patel was going to receive a present, he had visions
of one of great value. A silver cup, or even one of gold, was
discussed as a possible, or even a probable gift. And though he had
the grace, unlike some Indians, not to grumble in our presence
concerning the nature of the presentation, the comment, "only a
chair," was the prevailing sentiment expressed in the village.
[Illustration: THE CEMETERY CROSS.]
A Hindu almost always asks for more. If you are paying a large
building account, the contractor will suggest that, because of the
excellence of his work, it would be only just and right to give him
Rs. 100 extra. The driver of a _tonga_ almost habitually asks for
more, irrespective of what has been given him. Hence people practise
the innocent artifice of handing to him somewhat less than his legal
fare, and then when he asks for more giving him the balance, and he
usually goes away quite satisfied. Porters at railway stations
unblushingly beg for tips, and remonstrate at the smallness of the
gift, and pursue the traveller about the station beseeching him to
consider their poverty. If you have been staying in an Indian
bungalow, an array of servants gather round at the time of your
departure, unless the master of the house has set his face against the
stereotyped custom, and by their elaborate salaams and outstretched
palms indicate what is expected of you. The disappointed ones follow
you down the carriage-drive reminding you of your neglect. When I have
sometimes warned servants, who were rather officious in their
attentions, that having no money I should not be able to give them
anything at the conclusion of my visit, there has generally been a
perceptible falling off in their activity. Christian servants do not
clamour in this way, and give a pleasant "tank you" when they are
given something, and take great care of an impecunious wayfarer.
When Hindu boys ask for pictures, whether you give them one or
several, they at once beg for additional ones; and however good the
pictures may be, they will often hand them back immediately and say
they want better ones. It is only when they have learnt by experience
that these tactics generally result in their getting no pictures at
all, that they moderate their demands.