Gujarát and the Gujarátis/The People—Hindus
THE PEOPLE.
HINDUS.
The Hindus of Gujarát are divided into several castes, the most considerable, on the whole, being the Vaishnavas, the followers of Vishnu. They are merchants, traders, vakils (lawyers), and gentlemen at large. As merchants and traders they are even now most successful;but the vakils, with few exceptions, are mere petty-foggers; the gentlemen at large are easy-going, well-preserved individuals, who live and die to themselves. The enterprise and honesty which once characterised mercantile dealings are unknown to men of the present day. Transactions involving enormous sums were once carried on in Gujarat verbally; and some of my readers may have heard of the Gujarát Sowcár who received a large advance of money on a hair of his moustache as a pledge! But those days are gone from Gujarát. To-day the best-cultivated beard will not get the best known Sowcár a loan of Rs. 10. We see mutual distrust and petty jealousies amongst traders. Commercial morality is at a low ebb, as in Bombay. Let me give the instance of a Hindu merchant of extensive credit who took the benefit of the Insolvency Act some time ago, and thus ruined hundreds of widows and orphans who had entrusted their little all to his care. When these unlucky wights besought him for some relief as charity, the Sowcar mildly said to them, "My dear creatures, why do you want money? You are poor and can beg. Can I beg? And knowing this the Sirkár (Government) has relieved me of liability to you. But do not, I pray, think that I am happy. No, no; with your money I have to settle their dowries on my daughters," &c. &c.
A very pleasant way of settling dowries, to be sure! But instances of fraudulent insolvency are common both among the Hindus and Parsis. We have insolvents who have "taken the benefit" of what we call "the white-washing Act," half a dozen times each; and after each "white-washing" the insolvent has suddenly come into a fortune, with which he endows his wife or mother or a religious institution! He often builds houses, opens a new business, or goes in for "philanthropic" pursuits with the money he has so miraculously obtained soon after having been "whitewashed." He has no thought, even then, of the hundreds whose homes he has made desolate by his refined rascality.
This merchant is one of the Vaishnava sect, to which belong Baniás, Bhattiás, Márwáris, and others. Besides indulging in gross idolatry, these people deify the heads of their Church, who are about thirty-seven in number, scattered over Gujarát, Káttywár, and many other parts of India. The deified priest is the Máháráj,[1] the visible incarnation of Vishnu-Krishna, to whom every pious Vaishnava dedicates his or her tana, mana, dhana (body, mind, and property), and not only his or her body, mind, and property, but of all those over whom he or she may have control. This is the essence of Máhárájism, and yet, as all the world knows,
The Vaishnava Máháráj of the Day
is a spurious character; for, though he may claim to be the lineal descendant and visible incarnation of the protecting deity, he is susceptible, perhaps more than ordinary mortals, to pain, pleasure, love, hatred, and other emotions. Pinch him, and he will roar; tickle him, and he will grin; gratify his desire, and he will worship you; baulk him of it, and he will put you out of caste! He is born a "lord" of ancestors the Lord knows who, and at a very tender age he lords it over a seraglio of intellectual ladies whose husbands are men of highly liberal marital sentiment. It is a wonder to many how the Máháráj lives in such a princely style. It is thus:—The Máháráj has a first-rate taxing imagination. Sir John Strachey[2] is a mere novice to this accomplished tax-master. The following are supposed to be among the few known imposts the Máháráj derives from his devout followers:—For homage by sight, Rs. 5; for homage by touch, Rs. 20; for the honour of washing the Máhárájá's toes, Rs. 35; for the credit of swinging him, Rs. 40; for the glory of rubbing sweet unguents on his body, Rs. 42; for the joy of sitting with him, Rs. 60; for the bliss of occupying the same room with the Madana Murti,[3] Rs. 50 to 500. For the pleasure of being kicked by Máháráj or his attendants, Rs. 11; for the privilege of being lashed, Rs.13; for the performance of Rási Kridá,[4] Rs. 100 to 200; for Rása Kridá performed by proxy, Rs. 50 to 100. For the delight of eating the cud of pán supári thrown out by the Máháráj, Rs. 17; for drinking the water in which the Máháráj has bathed, or in which his foul linen has been washed, squeezed, and wrung, Rs. 19. He also levies many other minor taxes on the events and necessaries of life, such as birth, marriage, death, cloth, silk, sugar, &c. The late Mr. Anstey[5] said he would not touch a Máháráj "with a pair of red-hot tongs." Quite right; it would be desecration of the tongs. The Máháráj is a very pious man a week before he dies, and when he dies he goes to where the rest of us do not—that is, to Kailás. He generally dies without issue, and without a groan.
Having described the average head-priest of the Vaishnavas as he actually is, I may also give a brief sketch of the career of the late Jivanlálji Máháráj, of Gujarát, who is now supposed to be a saint in the Vaishnava heaven.
The Late Jivanlálji Máháráj.
The Vaishnavas of Western India went into mourning the other day, out of respect for the memory of Jivánlálji Máháráj, one of their "great lords." Jivánlálji Máháráj died of "some disease," and, so far, it is not satisfactory, I fear, for his numerous devotees to learn that their "great lord," the ever-youthful and immortal, should have succumbed like an ordinary mortal to mere physical ailment. What the "some disease" was I have no curiosity to know; but many will guess that it was an accumulation of the after effects of what Englishmen in other spheres of society designate "gay life."
Jivánlálji Máháráj was born 51 years ago. There is a profound mystery always overhanging the personal affairs of the Máháráj. That mystery shrouds his birth, it shrouds his life, and I'll be bound that same mystery shrouds his death. We know that he was born in 1829, visibly of human parents; but some hundreds of thousands of his worshippers assert, on their solemn oaths, that Jivánlálji Máháráj existed ages before he was born, and that ages before that event did he carry on that amorous traffic with his fair devotees which is essential,in the Vaishnava creed, to the salvation and beatification of the degraded female soul. Thus Jivánlálji was a philanthropist before he was born; but those "deeds of merit" could not be visible to mortal eye. His life "here below" and its many exciting incidents are better known. At ten years of age he could tell a maiden from a matron; at that tender age could this incarnation of the divine Krishna Chand warm the iciest of fair worshippers; he could toy with their toes in amorous wantonness; he could ogle the most virtuous prude into a smile of ineffable happiness. The wondrous boy! What could he not do?
At twenty, Jivanlálji was an old man, and took to studying Sanskrit and patronising female education among his people. This was a great triumph for the "reform party," who shed tears of joy and wrote odes belauding the Máhárájá's liberality of sentiment, and voted him a handsome memorial. This, by the way, irresistibly reminds one of the old rhyme, recounting how, when another illustrious pleasure-seeker fell sick, a "monk he would be"; but how, when he grew well, "the d————l of a monk was he"! The Máháráj and his worshippers afterwards found out that they were not quite agreed as to the meaning of "female education," but that mattered little. Jivánlálji Máháráj is spoken of as having been "the best among the brethren." I hope this assertion is meant as a compliment, though I very much fear the being "best" among Vaishnava Máhárvjás is at the best a sorry way of spending one's life in these days. But we cannot judge of these exalted personages from our own standard. It is enough for us that they die sooner or later; and we are thankful for their thus doing the community the only favour in their power. What becomes of them after death it would be idle speculation to enlarge upon; but if I am to trust Vaishnava traditions, death means to them the departure of the wearied soul to Swarga, where its sole occupation is—flirting with the spirits of those who were the choicest among his female friends on earth! The lover and the beloved there "drink delight" in each other's possession—they drink delight, and when their ethereal cravings are not quite satisfied therewith, they drink curds and eat cocoa-nuts. If this be a pleasant life—a life of love, flirting with spirits and browsing on curds and cocoa-nuts—I wish Jivanlálji Máháráj joy of his new life. Let those envy it who can. All that I would desire is, that the spirit of this great lord of ladies innumerable, this "friend of female education," this sainted patron of native arts and of Sanskrit, may not, in the other world, where the wronged are righted, encounter the meek and persecuted spirit of Karsandas Mulji.[6]
Europeans and others may think Máhárájism a foul superstition, a system of vile sensualism; but so long as it is sustained by the "odour of sanctity," it will hold in thrall tens of thousands of families in India within its embruted cult. The ritualistic orgies of the Vaishnavas are a "proverb of reproach" even amongst the superstitious and idolatrous Indians. Every sensible native knows that these priests "pollute their sanctuary," and in the name of religion desolate hearths and homes, and poison the fountain of domestic happiness. Karsandás Mulji, the truly enlightened Bania reformer, waged war on the tribe of Máhárájá's twenty years ago. He was fiercely opposed by rich and influential bigots of his own class; but so well-aimed were his hits, that at last he drew forth the giants of iniquity from their impregnable stronghold. They dragged Karsandas to the Court of Law; but in the course of the trial such fearful disclosures were extorted from the Vaishnavas by the redoubtable Anstey, that the cause of the Máhárájás was damaged for ever. The highest tribunal in the land and the entire Indian press pronounced Máhárájism a sink ofiniquities. But Karsandás Mulji died, and with him died that spirit of patient heroism which alone could cope with and triumph over bigotry, hypocrisy, and sin. Our friend the Vaishnava Máháráj is again relapsing into his old ways. His is a very tenacious creed, and until some providential visitation overtakes it, it will go on "conceiving mischief and bringing forth iniquity." It is unspeakably sad to find men and women, whose lives in other respects are regulated by the best domestic and social virtues, men of keen wits and women of pure habits, becoming so utterly infatuated by a vile tradition—a tissue of fantastic fables and transparent myths. It is a most incomprehensible psychological phenomenon. No husband is more jealous than the Hindu; no wife values her honour so high as the Hindu wife. And still, both make a merit of sacrificing the most cherished social privilege! What power of faith is theirs! But how perverted!