AUSHEEN, SEPTEMBER.
THE DOORGA POOJA.
This is the grand worship of the Hindoos. Men of humble circumstances
cannot bring the image of Doorga into their houses, because it requires
a large amount of money to make the necessary preparations. The image
itself is always the largest and most expensive; to speak nothing
of other things which, though economically arranged, demand a large
sum. Fifteen days or more before the worship, the whole country is in
excitement. Men who, under various circumstances in life, spend their
days as exiles in distant places, come home on this occasion to greet
their dearest relations once more. The distribution of presents to,
and reception of them from, the friends and neighbors is universally
observed. Even the very poor, low-caste man, who can barely clothe his
children in winter, and must go barefooted all the time, would buy
new dresses, shoes, etc., for his little ones, in the Doorga pooja
holidays. The rich, charitable Hindoos give Barshick--an annual gift of
money and new clothes--to the Brahmuns, as well as to the domestics and
poor people, that they may not appear naked and grieved before Doorga,
their common mother. The amount of the sale of all sorts of articles
is proverbial,--“The very dust of the Doorga pooja market is dear;”
“There was such a crowd at the store that you could crack twenty heads
by one stroke,”--such are the phrases they use to describe the market
in September. The mechanics, the artists, the jewellers, the farmers,
bring the results of their respective labor and skill to contribute to
this occasion. But notwithstanding the joyous festivities, the presents
and profusion, I am sorry to say the thing has a hideous feature. Those
who spend their means in wicked and riotous living desire more than
usual, on these days, to satisfy their own sensual appetites, and those
of their wicked companions; and, failing to do it, resort to unfair
means, and act as thieves, pirates, and murderers. The penitentiaries
are crowded with these unfortunate people, who, hoping to spend the
holidays merrily, live wretchedly under the strict regulation of the
prison and the weight of their fetters! A sad contrast indeed! Before I
describe the image, the preparation, and the worship, I will consider
who the Doorga is, whom my country regards as the great goddess.
Doorga was the only child of Hymaloy and Manoka, who ruled the
mountainous region of India in times of yore. There is a great deal of
mysterious conjecture in regard to the name and nature of Hymaloy, the
father of the great goddess; and I would bring them to the notice of my
Christian readers. A story universally believed by the Hindoos, says:
In ancient times the mountains were living, movable bodies, endowed
with the use of senses, and could fly in the sky by means of wings, and
this Hymaloy was their king. In course of time, these mountains grew
very troublesome to their fellow-creatures, the men; and, jealous of
each other’s power, they began to make inroads upon the cities situated
on the side, vale, or top of their antagonists. They did not use any
arms in their warfare; but, to accomplish their end, used to fly in the
air, and aiming at a certain doomed place, fell upon it, and buried
thereby houses, trees, men, women, and all! To put a stop to these
outrages, Por-oosh Ramah,[19] a deified king, cut off the wings of all
the turbulent mountains, which thenceforth lay as immovable masses of
earth. As I write this, fancy carries me to the top of the Rollstone
in Fitchburg, Mass., where I saw a heavy boulder, which they say is
an entirely different species of rock from the Rollstone. I think (in
fun though) that the statement of the Hindoo legend is true; this
boulder, if not the son or grandson of the old hill, was perhaps the
child of its neighbor, came there to make a call, and, amid the general
slaughter by the god, who spared neither age nor sex, lost its wings,
and consequently has lain on the bosom of the Rollstone ever since! The
legend deserves another remark. It was a noble, heroic act in Por-oosh
Ramah to cut off the wings of the injurious mountains which were then
filling the world with horror and devastation. But it is a hard thing
to stop the course of nature. The naturally cruel mountains, having
lost their wings and unable to fly about and tyrannize over others, now
and then open their monstrous jaws, and send forth fire, ashes, and
melted lava to the neighboring places, and destroy everything therein.
Thus the beautiful cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum were destroyed by
the cruel Vesuvius.
Now to the point: I think the father of Doorga received his name from
the mountain Hymaloy, or the mountain from him. It was, and now is, the
fashion to name places, mountains, and rivers, after some distinguished
persons, or the persons after the places. Thus, we have Alexandria
from Alexander, Rome from Romulus, St. Louis, St. Lawrence, Mount
Washington, and Scipio Africanus, etc.
Let the Hindoos believe whatever they will about the parents of Doorga,
she herself was, beyond question, the delight of her subjects, and the
pride of the age she lived in. Her popularity among the people, her
wide renown of noble, generous character, as painted with the dazzling
hues of Oriental imagination, had made such an impression on the minds
of the people, that, in succeeding ages, the ignorant but grateful
posterity deified and made her the “Great Mother” of the universe. Her
worship rose from the following fact.
It is the custom of the Hindoo females to visit their parents once a
year, at least. Doorga was married to Shiba, the Destroyer. At the
invitation of her parents she forsook the pleasures of Hoylas,[20] and
came to cheer up their lonely hearts by a kind visit in this month. She
came only for three days, for her husband could not come with her, nor
live in her absence. To commemorate that event, the Hindoos construct
her image, and with great rejoicing worship it for three days.
Here I will describe the image, with all its peculiarities. I use the
technical term of the Hindoos when I say “the image,” or “Prothima,”
for it contains nine different idols, although they call it one.
I am sure the description of the goddess will be amusingly absurd
to the Christian reader; but I will represent it just as it is, and
finally show that, far from being the real representation of some
deity, it is merely an ideal thing,--the contrivance of Fancy.
The goddess is like a young female of sixteen, with ten hands, three
eyes, deep yellow complexion, and stands in a posture placing her right
foot on the back of a lion and the left on the shoulder of a monster.
The monster, “Mohisha Soor,” comes out of the neck of a buffalo, in
whose body the lower half of his person is deposited. He has a sword
in his hand with which he meant to strike the goddess. On her right
are Shoreshotee and Gonesh,--the one the goddess of poetry and music,
and the other the god of success. On her left are Kartic and Lock-hee,
the god of the babes and the goddess of riches. These four are the
children of Doorga. Besides these she holds a serpent by one of her
left hands, which bites the monster,--the enemy of its mistress.
Looking at the image carefully I perceive it is nothing more than the
embodiment of all the necessary comforts, pleasures, hopes of life.
We want relief from the overwhelming sins which beset us in every
direction; the monster is the representation of them, whom the goddess
is cutting asunder. We want wealth, learning, success, children, and
behold there are the symbolical representations of all these in the
names of the sons and daughters of Doorga. Thus the ancient Brahmuns
have painted whatever they have touched with philosophic colors, and
arrayed before the people hosts of deities, which are essentially the
painted, clothed, personified attributes of One God. The system was
well adapted to the capacity of that distant age,--the age of figures,
allegories, and sentiment; but the present age demands a clear, simple,
and intelligible faith.
The worship commences on Shop-tomee,--the seventh day of the
full-moon,--and occupies three successive days. Early in the morning
of the first day is the bathing of “nine leaves,” of which the banana
is the chief. This is done with much ceremony, in the presence of
thousands; the bells ringing and trumpets sounding by hundreds. They
place the “nobo-pothrica,” nine leaves, by the side of the image,
dressing it like a female.
As the Hindoo mode of worship is almost always the same, and quite
different from that of the Christian, I will here detail it in full,
instead of describing it partially here and there. The image is placed
in the middle of the hall, facing the main entry into the house. Two
Brahmuns officiate at the same time; the one conducts the practical
and the other the theoretical part of the ceremony; in other words the
former does what the latter tells him to do. Thus the first, the head
priest, sits before the image with a pile of flowers and perfumatory
powders on his right, and a bell on the left; while the second takes
his seat only a few steps from the first, with his sacred Scripture
laying open before him, which he reads to direct his colleague how
to proceed. The priest, first of all, is required to purify himself,
the place he sits on, and the water he uses in the worship, by some
ceremony. The doctrine of self-purification is good in its nature,
and a Christian one too. Christ inculcated such on his disciples. But
what a sad contrast stands between a Brahmun’s and a Christian’s mode
of self-purification before worship! A Christian is taught to search
the innermost parts of his heart, and bring out, if there be there,
any impure, selfish, or passionate inclinations; and, leaving the
sacrifice before the altar, go and make peace with his brother, or in
some other way expel evil thoughts, and then pray. A beautiful process
of self-purification indeed! But the Brahmun repeats some Sanscrith
words, puts a flower on his own head, and turns his hands round his
head, for the same purpose. This symbolism takes a prominent part in
the Brahminic dispensation.
Lest the sprinkling of water and the shower of wet flowers might
soil the dress of the idol, or wash away the painting, a copper tub
is placed between the priest and the image, into which he casts
flowers, pours water, etc. Some prayers are offered to the children,
the friends, the servants, the messengers, even to the ornaments and
household furniture of the goddess.
The offering of Noi-bitho comes in course. Hundreds of wooden or brazen
trays are loaded with wet, raw rice,[21] fruits of nearly sixteen
kinds, and other sweet things. These eatable things are set on the
right hand side of the image, with the belief that it will cast its
glance at them. The priests entreat the idols to accept the offering
they bring, and drink the honey, milk, and water, etc., which they
place before it. After these have been accepted by the goddess (as they
believe), they are distributed to the Brahmun families.
Then comes the sacrifice. The Hindoos cherish the same notion of this
offering as the ancient Hebrews did. In the Old Testament we read of
the peace-offering, and the burnt-offering, and of the children of
Adam bringing lambs, vegetables, etc., to the altar of the Almighty.
The difference is, then, in the choice of the beast for the offering.
The Hebrews used to kill oxen, which the Hindoos do not. The latter
slaughter goats, sheep, and buffaloes, of the male sex, in presence
of their idols; and, at the end, cut sugar-cane, pumpkin, etc., into
pieces.
The place where the beasts are slaughtered is the middle of the yard,
where a wooden block, with a jog on its top, is stuck in the ground.
The blacksmith is the only caste to kill the victim for the others,
although some Brahmuns do that part, to the displeasure of others.
The executioner, his scimitar, the block, the victims, animal or
vegetable, are all washed and purified with sacred water. Nobody is
allowed to lean against or touch a pillar, wall, or anything else. All
stand straight, separate, and silent. One holds the hind-legs of the
he-goat by his left hand and its fore-legs by his right, places its
neck on the block, and then the blacksmith lifts up his fatal weapon,
and the people shout aloud, “Victory to thee, O Mother!” The moment the
last word, “Mother,” has been uttered, the head of the victim falls
bleeding on the ground, the bells ring, trumpets sound, the people jump
in joy, and clap their hands. There is no precise number of the animals
for the offering; it may be more or less, according to the circumstance
and the inclination of the worshipper.[22] If the man fails to kill the
beast by one blow, it is regarded a mischievous omen. Hence, at the
successful blow, the master of the house takes the executioner by the
arm, puts flower garlands round his neck, and presents him with some
money, clothes, etc.
In the afternoon is the “vogue,”--dinner. It is to be observed here
that the Hindoos of all castes do not offer boiled food to the
idol,--such as rice, vegetables, fish, meat (of the he-goat only).
They make various distinctions between boiled and fried food; some is
allowable, and others not; for instance, a Brahmun would eat cakes
fried by a confectioner, but not rice boiled by him. The Brahmuns
only present rice, vegetables, and other cooked food, to the idols,
which are offered in the same way as the fruits, specifying them by
the name. When they bring these to the hall, they sprinkle the river
water along their path, on which the Brahmun with the dishes in his
hands treads. When the goddess is supposed to cast her glance at, or to
indicate an acceptance of the costly dishes, the screens are hung so
that none of the lowest caste can see what is going on behind.
The invited guests, as well as other poor low-caste people, take their
places in the order of their castes, and the Brahmuns serve them at
the dinner. O, the pleasant task! although, personally, I had neither
faith in nor delight at the worship of the idol, and stood aloof
in the hour of sacrifice, burning of incense, and offering meat to
the senseless deities, yet I used to come at this time and offer my
services in distributing food to the people. But as a disciple of Him
who blessed, loved, and ministered to the poor, neglected, and low, I
was particularly mindful to serve and wait upon such as rarely received
much care and attention from an orthodox Brahmun. Thus, during these
three days the people dine at each other’s houses, and all at the house
of the Brahmuns who are highest and first in order. In the evening,
the hall, the parlor, the entry, and the outside of the house, are all
illuminated with chandeliers, lanterns, etc.
The priest performs the “aurothee,” or moving of “four lamps” before
the face of the idol. While he is thus engaged, ringing a bell by his
left hand and moving the lamps by his right, some burn perfumatory
incense and fan the idol, and others devote themselves to silent
prayer; the band also plays in the yard. At the close, every soul
present is on his knees or breast, prostrating before “wood or stone.”
I was often found on the outside of the house, away from the idol, at
this time.
The guests appear again, and are entertained. The invited guests, the
men of wealth, offer a present of money to the idol, when they come to
the outer piazza of the hall. Beautiful it is to see men of different
ages and circumstances visiting house after house, in crowds, in the
excited, festive, superstitious Bengal. Would to God it was for some
other occasion, and not for the worship of the idols.
Late in the evening begin the music, singing, dancing, theatrical
shows, etc., quite different from those of Christians, both in regard
to time, process, and substance. The usual hours for these are from
eleven in the evening until six or seven in the next morning. On other
occasions, when there is no idol to worship particularly, the music and
shows extend twelve hours, without intermission. During these hours
the people sit still, sometimes go out, promenade, chew spices, smoke
tobacco, etc. The yard of the house, accommodating several hundreds,
is the place where the theatrical plays and other amusements are held.
For the information of the reader, I should describe in this place the
musical entertainments of the Hindoos. They are far inferior to those
in this country, in regard to the gorgeousness of the scenery; but
far superior in point of elegance, taste, and composition, either of
the tune or the play itself. A visit to the Boston Theatre, and the
splendid spectacle displayed therein of “Faust and Marguerite,” have
made me think the Hindoos are superior in their intellectual displays,
while the Americans excel in scenic representations. Dancing in India
is regarded in a contrary light from what it is in this country. Hence,
those who dance in the public theatre or private parlor are from the
lowest castes, if they be men, or public prostitutes, if women. For
the Orientals deem it a shame, an improper act, for women to sing or
dance before men. The dancing of a young girl in the above theatre
in Boston, and of others in the _polka_, would well confirm the
Oriental estimation of female dancing. The spectators do not gather
promiscuously, and pay the admittance fee, as they do in this country.
The music, dancing, or shows, whatever they might be, are open to
all,--but it is in a rich man’s house, where the heads and backs
of persons glitter with gold and jewels; the folks with cotton are
not welcome. However, they have other places to go to, where every
attention is shown to them. A Bengalee proverb says: “One door is
closed against, while hundreds are open to us.” I said there is no
promiscuous gathering; I mean the gathering of both sexes. The women
sit apart behind the screens, from whence they see everything without
being seen. But this is not the case with all. Sometimes a young woman,
with vain heart and handsome casket--body--manages to thrust out to
the public gaze her pretty hands, glittering with costly ornaments.
Thus the first two days of the Doorga pooja pass by, and the third or
last is before us, with its singular, absurd amusements. It is _katha
matie_, amusement with clay. After the usual sacrifices have been
offered, they wet the yard, and men of every age fall upon each other,
singing and dancing in abominable ways. Some songs are purposely
composed in vulgar words and sentiments, to be sung before the goddess,
their Mother! This mistaken band of men and boys, with instrumental
and vocal music, visit every house in the neighborhood which has the
image within it. As a token of respect, the master of the house, or
his representative, cordially receives this foolish party, and joins
their number. You must join them, otherwise they will run after you,
put clay on your clothes, and make you come at any rate. As they pass
by, it is difficult to recognize them by their faces. Their clothes and
whole bodies are so covered with clay, that at the first sight you will
take them for some strange creatures, or John for James and James for
Charles! Christians, who have no faith in the foreign missions, think
the Hindoos are well off. Come! O come and see this single abominable,
adulterous amusement of these men, the sad, the mistaken specimens of
humanity, and you will find a great gulf lies between you and them.
Thank your God and be grateful to his mercy. Spread the light abroad
that has been committed to your care, that millions of the Great Human
Family may see their course through the precipitous way of life!
Now, on the fourth, or last day, the image is thrown into water,
with absurd ceremonies and costly shows. Agreeably to the order of
exercises performed when a woman leaves her father’s house for that
of her husband, the women walk round the image, put some lunch in her
hand, and entreat her to come again the next year. The men write their
names on some _bāle_ leaves, and deposit them at the feet of the
goddess, hoping she will remember them by their individual names.
In the afternoon the bands play, the flags are waved, the guns fired,
and the image is carried to the river Gunga. Some people throw the
images into the water, while others take them on board of boats, and
thereby give the goddess a good sail. While young, I used to cry for
this treatment toward the “Mother,” and ask my father why it would not
be better to send her home by carriage, than sink her into the water.
When it becomes dark they return to their homes, the bands playing a
melancholy tune.
The benediction is offered by the priest at the place where the idol
was. A jar with water in it is placed on the same seat which the
goddess occupied, people sit on every side, and the priest sprinkles
the “peace water” on their heads. Lest the sacred water should fall on
their feet, which are regarded profane by the Hindoos, they cover them
with their clothes, while their heads are exposed to the shower from
the priest.
After this is performed what seems to me the best part of the worship,
i. e. the greeting of each other with salutations. Each person takes
a quantity of sweet confectionery with him, and goes round from house
to house receiving or giving salutations, according to his position. I
will describe this more distinctly. The Brahmuns do not salute other
castes; and the grown-up people receive homage from their juniors, but
do not give them any. Thus, a young man prostrates himself before his
older brother, and both before their parents, uncle, aunt, etc. They
put a little confectionery to each other’s mouths, and embrace each
other. On this occasion they use an intoxicating drug called “Vang;”
with the exception of this, I like the proceedings of the evening. Thus
close the Doorga-pooja holidays; doing some good, at least to the poor,
for they are well cared for, entertained in feasts, and admitted to
the fine shows in the splendid houses, where they are not allowed to
enter on other occasions. Besides these, they get such a quantity of
expensive eatable things as they never tasted before, and which they
enjoy for a week or more.