A NIGHT-FESTIVAL IN A HINDU TEMPLE.
The festival of Taypusam is one of the more important among the many
religious festivals of the Hindus, and is celebrated with great
rejoicings on the night of the first full moon in January each year.
In the case of the great temples of Southern India, some of which are
so vast that their enclosures are more than a mile in circumference,
enormous crowds--sometimes 20,000 people or more--will congregate
together to witness the ceremonials, which are elaborately gorgeous.
There are a few Hindu temples of smaller size in Ceylon, and into one
of these I had the good fortune to be admitted, on the occasion of this
year’s festival (1891), and at the time when the proceedings were about
to commence.
It was nine o’clock, the full moon was shining in the sky, and already
the blaring of trumpets and horns could be heard from within as I
stood at the gate seeking admittance. At first this was positively
denied; but my companion, who was a person, of some authority in the
temple, soon effected an entrance, and we presently stood within the
precincts. It must be understood that these temples generally consist
of a large oblong enclosure, more or less planted with palms and other
trees, within which stands the sanctuary itself, with lesser shrines,
priests’ dwellings and other buildings grouped round it. In the present
case the enclosure was about one hundred yards long by sixty or seventy
wide, with short grass under foot. In the centre stood the temple
proper--a building without any pretensions to architectural form, a
mere oblong, bounded by a wall ten or twelve feet high; unbroken by any
windows, and rudely painted in vertical stripes, red and white. At the
far end, under trees, were some low priests’ cottages; and farther on a
tank or reservoir, not very large, with a stone balustrade around it.
Coming round to the front of the temple, which was more ornamented, and
where the main doorway or entrance was, we found there a considerable
crowd assembled. We were in fact just in time to witness the beginning
of the ceremony; for almost immediately a lot of folk came rushing
out through the doorway of the temple in evident excitement; torches
were lighted, consisting of long poles, some surmounted with a flaming
ring of rags dipped in coco-nut oil, others with a small iron crate in
which lumps of broken coco-nut burned merrily. In a few moments there
was a brilliant light; the people arranged themselves in two lines
from the temple door; sounds of music from within got louder; and a
small procession appeared, musicians first, then four nautch girls, and
lastly a small platform supported on the shoulders of men, on which was
the great god Siva.
At first I could not make out what this last-named object was, but
presently distinguished two rude representations of male and female
figures, Siva and his consort Sakti, apparently cut out of one block,
seated, and about three feet high, but so bedone with jewels and silks
that it was difficult to be sure of their anatomy! Over them was held
a big ornamental umbrella, and behind followed the priest. We joined
the procession, and soon arrived at the edge of the reservoir which I
have already mentioned, and on which was floating a strange kind of
ship. It was a raft made of bamboos lashed to empty barrels, and on it
a most florid and brilliant canopy, covered with cloths of different
colors and surmounted by little scarlet pennants. A flight of steps
down to the water occupied the whole of one side of the tank, the other
three sides were surrounded by the stone balcony, and on these steps
and round the balcony the crowd immediately disposed itself, while the
procession went on board. When the god was properly arranged under his
canopy, and the nautch girls round about him, and when room had been
found for the crew, who with long poles were to propel the vessel, and
for as many musicians as convenient--about a dozen souls in all--a bell
rang, and the priest, a brown-bodied young Brahman with the sacred
thread over his shoulders and a white cloth edged with red round his
loins, made an offering of flame of camphor in a five-branched lamp. A
hush fell upon the crowd, who all held their hands, palms together, as
in the attitude of prayer (but also symbol of the desire to be joined
together and to the god)--some with their arms high above their heads;
a tray was placed on the raft, of coco-nuts and bananas which the
priest opening deposited before the image; the band burst forth into
renewed uproar, and the ship went gyrating over the water on her queer
voyage.
[Illustration: TAMIL MAN.]
What a scene! I had now time to look around a little. All round
the little lake, thronging the steps and the sides in the great
glare of the torches, were hundreds of men and boys, barebodied,
barehead and barefoot, but with white loin-cloths--all in a state of
great excitement--not religious so much as spectacular, as at the
commencement of a theatrical performance, myself and companion about
the only persons clothed,--except that in a corner and forming a pretty
mass of color were a few women and girls, of the poorer class of
Tamils, but brightly dressed, with nose-rings and ear-rings profusely
ornamented. On the water, brilliant in scarlet and gold and blue,
was floating the sacred canopy, surrounded by musicians yelling on
their various horns, in the front of which--with the priest standing
between them--sat two little naked boys holding small torches; while
overhead through the leaves of plentiful coco-nut and banana palms
overhanging the tank, in the dim blue sky among gorgeous cloud-outlines
just discernible, shone the goddess of night, the cause of all this
commotion.
Such a blowing up of trumpets in the full moon! For the first time
I gathered some clear idea of what the ancient festivals were like.
Here was a boy blowing two pipes at the same time, exactly as in the
Greek bas-reliefs. There was a man droning a deep bourdon on a reed
instrument, with cheeks puffed into pouches with long-sustained effort
of blowing; to him was attached a shrill flageolet player--the two
together giving much the effect of Highland bagpipes. Then there were
the tomtoms, whose stretched skins produce quite musical and bell-like
though monotonous sounds; and lastly two old men jingling cymbals and
at the same time blowing their terrible chank-horns or conches. These
chanks are much used in Buddhist and Hindu temples. They are large
whorled sea-shells of the whelk shape, such as sometimes ornament our
mantels. The apex of the spiral is cut away and a mouthpiece cemented
in its place, through which the instrument can be blown like a horn.
If then the fingers be used to partly cover and vary the mouth of the
shell, and at the same time the shell be vibrated to and fro in the
air--what with its natural convolutions and these added complications,
the most ear-rending and diabolically wavy bewildering and hollow
sounds can be produced, such as might surely infect the most callous
worshiper with a proper faith in the supernatural.
The temper of the crowd too helped one to understand the old religious
attitude. It was thoroughly _whole-hearted_--I cannot think of any
other word. There was no piety--in our sense of the word--or very
little, observable. They were just thoroughly enjoying themselves--a
little excited no doubt by chanks and divine possibilities generally,
but not subdued by awe; talking freely to each other in low tones,
or even indulging occasionally--the younger ones--in a little
bear-fighting; at the same time proud of the spectacle and the
presence of the divinity, heart and soul in the ceremony, and anxious
to lend hands as torch-bearers or image-bearers, or in any way, to
its successful issue. It is this temper which the wise men say is
encouraged and purposely cultivated by the ceremonial institutions of
Hinduism. The temple services are made to cover, as far as may be, the
whole ground of life, and to provide the pleasures of the theatre,
the art-gallery, the music hall and the concert-room in one. People
attracted by these spectacles--which are very numerous and very varied
in character, according to the different feasts--presently remain to
inquire into their meaning. Some like the music, others the bright
colors. Many men come at first merely to witness the dancing of the
nautch girls, but afterwards and insensibly are drawn into spheres of
more spiritual influence. Even the children find plenty to attract
them, and the temple becomes their familiar resort from early life.
The theory is that all the ceremonies have inner and mystic
meanings--which meanings in due time are declared to those who are
fit--and that thus the temple institutions and ceremonies constitute
a great ladder by which men can rise at last to those inner truths
which lie beyond all formulas and are contained in no creed. Such is
the theory, but like all theories it requires large deductions before
acceptance. That such theory was one of the formative influences of the
Hindu ceremonial, and that the latter embodies here and there important
esoteric truths descending from Vedic times, I hardly doubt; but on the
other hand, time, custom and neglect, different streams of tradition
blending and blurring each other, reforms and a thousand influences
have--as in all such cases--produced a total concrete result which no
one theory can account for or coordinate.
Such were some of my thoughts as I watched the crowd around me.
They too were not uninterested in watching me. The appearance of an
Englishman under such circumstances was perhaps a little unusual
and scores of black eyes were turned inquiringly in my direction;
but covered as I was by the authority of my companion no one seemed
to resent my presence. A few I thought looked shocked, but the most
seemed rather pleased, as if proud that a spectacle so brilliant and
impressive should be witnessed by a stranger--besides there were two
or three among the crowd whom I happened to have met before and spoken
with, and whose friendly glances made me feel at home.
Meanwhile the gyrating raft had completed two or three voyages round
the little piece of water. Each time it returned to the shore fresh
offerings were made to the god, the bell was rung again, a moment of
hushed adoration followed, and then with fresh strains of mystic music
a new start for the deep took place. What the inner signification of
these voyages might be I had not and have not the faintest idea; it
is possible even that no one present knew. At the same time I do not
doubt that the drama was originally instituted in order to commemorate
some actual event or to symbolise some doctrine. On each voyage a hymn
was sung or recited. On the first voyage the Brahman priest declaimed
a hymn from the Vedas--a hymn that may have been written 3,000 years
ago--nor was there anything in the whole scene which appeared to me
discordant with the notion that the clock had been put back 3,000
years (though of course the actual new departure in the Brahmanical
rites which we call Hinduism does not date back anything like so far
as that). On the second voyage a Tamil hymn was sung by one of the
youths trained in the temples for this purpose; and on the third voyage
another Tamil hymn, with interludes of the most ecstatic caterwauling
from chanks and bagpipes! The remainder of the voyages I did not
witness, as my conductor now took me to visit the interior of the
temple.
That is, as far as it was permissible to penetrate. For the Brahman
priests who regulate these things, with far-sighted policy make it one
of their most stringent rules that the laity shall not have access
beyond a short distance into the temple, and heathen like myself are
of course confined to the mere forecourts. Thus the people feel more
awe and sanctity with regard to the holy place itself and the priests
who fearlessly tread within than they do with regard to anything else
connected with their religion.
Having passed the porch, we found ourselves in a kind of entrance hall
with one or two rows of columns supporting a flat wooden roof--the
walls adorned with the usual rude paintings of various events in Siva’s
earthly career. On the right was a kind of shrine with a dancing figure
of the god in relief--the perpetual dance of creation; but unlike
some of the larger temples, in which there is often most elaborate
and costly stonework, everything here was of the plainest, and there
was hardly anything in the way of sculpture to be seen. Out of this
forecourt opened a succession of chambers into which one might not
enter; but the dwindling lights placed in each served to show distance
after distance. In the extreme chamber farthest removed from the
door, by which alone daylight enters--the rest of the interior being
illumined night and day with artificial lights--is placed, surrounded
by lamps, the most sacred object, the lingam. This of course was
too far off to be discerned--and indeed it is, except on occasions,
kept covered--but it appears that instead of being a rude image of
the male organ (such as is frequently seen in the outer courts of
these temples), the thing is a certain white stone, blue-veined and
of an egg-shape, which is mysteriously fished up--if the gods so
will it--from the depths of the river Nerbudda, and only thence. It
stands in the temple in the hollow of another oval-shaped object which
represents the female _yoni_; and the two together, embleming Siva and
Sakti, stand for the sexual energy which pervades creation.
Thus the worship of sex is found to lie at the root of the present
Hinduism, as it does at the root of nearly all the primitive religions
of the world. Yet it would be a mistake to conclude that such worship
is a mere deification of material functions. Whenever it may have been
that the Vedic prophets descending from Northern lands into India
first discovered within themselves that capacity of spiritual ecstasy
which has made them even down to to-day one of the greatest religious
forces in the world, it is certain that they found (as indeed many of
the mediæval Christian seers at a later time also found) that this
ecstasy had a certain similarity to the sexual rapture. In their hands
therefore the rude, phallic worships, which their predecessors had with
true instinct celebrated, came to have a new meaning; and sex itself,
the most important of earthly functions, came to derive an even greater
importance from its relation to the one supreme and heavenly fact, that
of the soul’s union with God.
In the middle line of all Hindu temples, between the lingam and the
door, are placed two other very sacred objects--the couchant bull Nandi
and an upright ornamented pole, the Kampam, or as it is sometimes
called, the flagstaff. In this case the bull was about four feet in
length, carved in one block of stone, which from continual anointing by
pious worshipers had become quite black and lustrous on the surface.
In the great temple at Tanjore there is a bull twenty feet long cut
from a single block of syenite, and similar bull-images are to be found
in great numbers in these temples, and of all sizes down to a foot
in length, and in any accessible situation are sure to be black and
shining with oil. In Tamil the word _pasu_ signifies both _ox_--_i.e._
the domesticated ox--and the _soul_. Siva is frequently represented
as riding on a bull; and the animal represents the human soul which
has become subject and affiliated to the god. As to the flagstaff, it
was very plain, and appeared to be merely a wooden pole nine inches
or so thick, slightly ornamented, and painted a dull red color. In
the well-known temple at Mádura the kampam is made of teak plated
with gold, and is encircled with certain rings at intervals, and at
the top three horizontal arms project, with little bell-like tassels
hanging from them. This curious object has, it is said, a physiological
meaning, and represents a nerve which passes up the median line of the
body from the genital organs to the brain (? the great sympathetic).
Indeed the whole disposition of the parts in these temples is supposed
(as of course also in the Christian Churches) to represent the human
body, and so also the universe of which the human body is only the
miniature. I do not feel myself in a position however to judge how far
these correspondences are exact. The inner chambers in this particular
temple were, as far as I could see, very plain and unornamented.
On coming out again into the open space in front of the porch, my
attention was directed to some low buildings which formed the priests’
quarters. Two priests were attached to the temple, and a separate
cottage was intended for any traveling priest or lay benefactor who
might want accommodation within the precincts.
And now the second act of the sacred drama was commencing. The god,
having performed a sufficient number of excursions on the tank,
was being carried back with ceremony to the space in front of the
porch--where for some time had been standing, on portable platforms
made of poles, three strange animal figures of more than life-size--a
bull, a peacock, and a black creature somewhat resembling a hog, but
I do not know what it was meant for. On the back of the bull, which
was evidently itself in an amatory and excited mood, Siva and Sakti
were placed; on the hog-like animal was mounted another bejewelled
figure--that of Ganésa, Siva’s son; and on the peacock again the figure
of his other son, Soubramánya. Camphor flame was again offered, and
then a lot of stalwart and enthusiastic worshipers seized the poles,
and mounting the platforms on their shoulders set themselves to form
a procession round the temple on the grassy space between it and the
outer wall. The musicians as usual went first, then came the dancing
girls, and then after an interval of twenty or thirty yards the three
animals abreast of each other on their platforms, and bearing their
respective gods upon their backs. At this point we mingled with the
crowd and were lost among the worshipers. And now again I was reminded
of representations of antique religious processions. The people, going
in front or following behind, or partly filling the space in front of
the gods--though leaving a lane clear in the middle--were evidently
getting elated and excited. They swayed their arms, took hands or
rested them on each other’s bodies, and danced rather than walked
along; sometimes their shouts mixed with the music; the tall torches
swayed to and fro, flaring to the sky and distilling burning drops on
naked backs in a way which did not lessen the excitement; the smell of
hot coco-nut oil mingling with that of humanity made the air sultry;
and the great leaves of bananas and other palms leaning over and
glistening with the double lights of moon and torch flames gave a weird
and tropical beauty to the scene.[2] In this rampant way the procession
moved for a few yards, the men wrestling and sweating under the weight
of the god-images, which according to orthodox ideas are always made
of an alloy of the five metals known to the ancients--an alloy called
_panchaloka_--and are certainly immensely heavy; and then it came to a
stop. The bearers rested their poles on strong crutches carried for the
purpose, and while they took breath the turn of the nautch girls came.
[2] Mrs. Speir, in her _Life in Ancient India_, p. 374, says
that we first hear of Siva worship about B.C. 300, and that
it is described by Megasthenes as “celebrated in tumultuous
festivals, the worshippers anointing their bodies, wearing
crowns of flowers, and sounding bells and cymbals. From
which,” she adds, “the Greeks conjectured that Siva worship
was derived from Bacchus or Dionysos, and carried to the
East in the traditionary expedition which Bacchus made in
company with Hercules.”
[Illustration: NAUTCH GIRL.]
Most people are sufficiently familiar now-a-days, through Oriental
exhibitions and the like, with the dress and bearing of these
Devadásis, or servants of God. “They sweep the temple,” says the author
of _Life in an Indian Village_, “ornament the floor with quaint figures
drawn in rice flour, hold the sacred light before the god, fan him,
and dance and sing when required.” “In the village of Kélambakam,” he
continues, “there are two dancing girls, Kanakambujam and Minakshi. K.
is the concubine of a neighboring Mudelliar, and M. of Appalacharri the
Brahman. But their services can be obtained by others.” I will describe
the dress of one of the four present on this occasion. She had on a
dark velveteen tunic with quite short gold-edged sleeves, the tunic
almost concealed from view by a very handsome scarf or _sari_ such
as the Indian women wear. This sari, made of crimson silk profusely
ornamented with gold thread, was passed over one shoulder, and having
been wound twice or thrice round the waist was made to hang down like a
petticoat to a little below the knee. Below this appeared silk leggings
of an orange color; and heavy silver anklets crowned the naked feet.
Handsome gold bangles were on her arms (silver being usually worn below
the waist and gold above), jewels and bell-shaped pendants in her
nose and ears, and on her head rose-colored flowers pinned with gold
brooches and profusely inwoven with the plaited black hair that hung
down her back. The others with variations in color had much the same
costume.
To describe their faces is difficult. I think I seldom saw any so
inanimately sad. It is part of the teaching of Indian women that they
should never give way to the expression of feeling, or to any kind of
excitement of manner, and this in the case of better types leads to a
remarkable dignity and composure of bearing, such as is comparatively
rare in the West, but in more stolid and ignorant sorts produces a
most apathetic and bovine mien. In the case of these nautch women
circumstances are complicated by the prostitution which seems to be the
inevitable accompaniment of their profession. One might indeed think
that it was distinctly a _part_ of their profession--as women attached
to the service of temples whose central idea is that of sex--but some
of my Hindu friends assure me that this is not so: that they live
where they like, that their dealings with the other sex are entirely
their own affair, and are not regulated or recognised in any way by
the temple authorities, and that it is only, so to speak, an accident
that these girls enter into commercial relations with men--generally,
it is admitted, with the wealthier of those who attend the services--an
accident of course quite likely to occur, since they are presumably
good-looking, and are early forced into publicity and out of the
usual routine of domestic life. All the same, though doubtless these
things are so now, I think it may fairly be supposed that the sexual
services of these nautch girls _were_ at one time a recognised part
of their duty to the temple to which they were attached. Seeing
indeed that so many of the religions of antiquity are known to have
recognised services of this kind, seeing also that Hinduism did at
least incorporate in itself primitive sexual worships, and seeing that
there is no reason to suppose that such practices involved any slur
in primitive times on those concerned in them--rather the reverse--I
think we have at any rate a strong _primâ-facie_ case. It is curious
too that, even to-day, notwithstanding the obvious drawbacks of their
life, these girls are quite recognised and accepted in Hindu families
of high standing and respectability. When marriages take place they
dress the bride, put on her jewels, and themselves act as bridesmaids;
and generally speaking are much referred to as authorities on dress.
Whatever, however, may have been the truth about the exact duties and
position of the Devadásis in old times, the four figuring away there
before their gods that night seemed to me to present but a melancholy
and effete appearance. They were small and even stunted in size, nor
could it be said that any of them were decently good-looking. The face
of the eldest--it was difficult to judge their age, but she might have
been twenty--was the most expressive, but it was thin and exceedingly
weary; the faces of the others were the faces of children who had
ceased to be children, yet to whom experience had brought no added
capacity.
These four waifs of womanhood, then, when the procession stopped,
wheeled round, and facing the god approached him with movements which
bore the remotest resemblance to a dance. Stretching out their right
hands and right feet together (in itself an ungraceful movement) they
made one step forward and to the right; then doing the same with left
hands and feet made a step in advance to the left. After repeating
this two or three times they then, having first brought their finger
points to their shoulders, extended their arms forward towards the
deity, inclining themselves at the same time. This also was repeated,
and then they moved back much as they had advanced. After a few similar
evolutions, sometimes accompanied by chanting, they wheeled round
again, and the procession moved forwards a few yards more. Thus we
halted about half a dozen times before we completed the circuit of the
temple, and each time had a similar performance.
On coming round to the porch what might be called the third act
commenced. The platform of the bull and the god Siva was--not without
struggles--lowered to the ground so as to face the porch, the other
two gods being kept in the background; and then the four girls, going
into the temple and bringing forth little oil-lamps, walked in
single file round the image, followed by the musicians also in single
file. These latter had all through the performance kept up an almost
continuous blowing; and their veined knotted faces and distended cheeks
bore witness to the effort, not to mention the state of our own ears!
It must however in justice be said that the drone, the flageolet,
and the trumpets were tuned to the same key-note, and their combined
music alone would not have been bad; but a chank-shell can no more be
tuned than a zebra can be tamed, and when _two_ of these instruments
together, blown by two wiry old men obdurately swaying their heads,
were added to the tumult, it seemed not impossible that one might go
giddy and perhaps become _theopneustos_, at any moment.
The show was now evidently culminating. The entry of the musicians into
the temple, where their reverberations were simply appalling, was the
signal for an inrush of the populace. We passed in with the crowd, and
almost immediately Siva, lifted from the bull, followed borne in state
under his parasol. He was placed on a stand in front of the side shrine
in the forecourt already mentioned; and a curtain being drawn before
him, there was a momentary hush and awe. The priest behind the curtain
(whom from our standpoint we could see) now made the final offerings of
fruit, flowers and sandalwood, and lighted the five-branched camphor
lamp for the last time. This burning of camphor is, like other things
in the service, emblematic. The five lights represent the five senses.
As camphor consumes itself and leaves no residue behind, so should the
five senses, being offered to God, consume themselves and disappear.
When this is done, that happens in the soul which was now figured in
the temple service; for as the last of the camphor burned itself away
the veil was swiftly drawn aside--and there stood the image of Siva
revealed in a blaze of light.
The service was now over. The priest distributed the offerings among
the people; the torches were put out; and in a few minutes I was
walking homeward through the streets and wondering if I was really in
the modern world of the 19th century.
A VISIT TO A GÑÁNI