Behind The Women A Whole Sea Of Most Wonderful Turbans Was Waving
In The Pit.
There were long-haired Rajputs with regular Grecian
features and long beards parted in the middle, their heads covered
With "pagris" consisting of, at least, twenty yards of finest white
muslin, and their persons adorned with earrings and necklaces;
there were Mahrata Brahmans, who shave their heads, leaving only
one long central lock, and wear turbans of blinding red, decorated
in front with a sort of golden horn of plenty; Bangas, wearing
three-cornered helmets with a kind of cockscomb on the top; Kachhis,
with Roman helmets; Bhillis, from the borders of Rajastan, whose
chins are wrapped three times in the ends of their pyramidal turbans,
so that the innocent tourist never fails to think that they constantly
suffer from toothache; Bengalis and Calcutta Babus, bare-headed
all the year round, their hair cut after an Athenian fashion, and
their bodies clothed in the proud folds of a white toga-virilis,
in no way different from those once worn by Roman senators; Parsees,
in their black, oilcloth mitres; Sikhs, the followers of Nanaka,
strictly monotheist and mystic, whose turbans are very like the
Bhillis', but who wear long hair down to their waists; and hundreds
of other tribes.
Proposing to count how many different headgears are to be seen in
Bombay alone, we had to abandon the task as impracticable after a
fortnight. Every caste, every trade, guild, and sect, every one
of the thousand sub-divisions of the social hierarchy, has its own
bright turban, often sparkling with gold lace and precious stones,
which is laid aside only in case of mourning. But, as if to
compensate for this luxury, even the mem-bers of the municipality,
rich merchants, and Rai-Bahadurs, who have been created baronets
by the Government, never wear any stockings, and leave their legs
bare up to the knees. As for their dress, it chiefly consists of
a kind of shapeless white shirt.
In Baroda some Gaikwars (a title of all the Baroda princes) still
keep in their stables elephants and the less common giraffes,
though the former are strictly forbidden in the streets of Bombay.
We had an opportunity of seeing ministers, and even Rajas, mounted
on these noble animals, their mouths full of pansupari (betel leaves),
their heads drooping under the weight of the precious stones on
their turbans, and each of their fingers and toes adorned with rich
golden rings. While the evening I am describing lasted, however,
we saw no elephants, no giraffes, though we enjoyed the company of
Rajas and ministers. We had in our box the hand-some ambassador
and late tutor of the Mahararana of Oodeypore. Our companion was
a Raja and a pandit. His name was a Mohunlal-Vishnulal-Pandia.
He wore a small pink turban sparkling with diamonds, a pair of
pink barege trousers, and a white gauze coat. His raven black
hair half covered his amber-colored neck, which was surrounded by
a necklace that might have driven any Parisian belle frantic with
envy.
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