The Relatives And Friends Of Our Host Came In One After The Other.
They Were All Naked Down To The Waist, All Barefooted, All Wore
The Triple Brahmanical Thread And White Silk Dhutis, And Their
Hair Hung Loose.
Every sahib was followed by his own servant,
who carried his cup, his silver, or even gold, jug filled with water,
and his towel.
All of them, having saluted the host, greeted us,
the palms of their hands pressed to-gether and touching their
foreheads, their breasts, and then the floor. They all said to us:
"Ram-Ram" and "Namaste" (salutation to thee), and then made straight
for their respective seats in perfect silence. Their civilities
reminded me that the custom of greeting each other with the twice
pronounced name of some ancestor was usual in the remotest antiquity.
We all sat down, the Hindus calm and stately, as if preparing for
some mystic celebration, we ourselves feeling awkward and uneasy,
fearing to prove guilty of some unpardonable blunder. An invisible
choir of women's voices chanted a monotonous hymn, celebrating the
glory of the gods. These were half a dozen nautch-girls from a
neighboring pagoda. To this accompaniment we began satisfying
our appetites. Thanks to the Babu's instructions, we took great
care to eat only with our right hands. This was somewhat difficult,
because we were hungry and hasty, but quite necessary. Had we only
so much as touched the rice with our left hands whole hosts of
Rakshasas (demons) would have been attracted to take part in the
festivity that very moment; which, of course, would send all
the Hindus out of the room.
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