In The Fakirs' Avenue We
Found Narayan, Mulji And The Babu, Who Were Waiting For Us.
The
chief Brahman would not hear of their entering the pagoda.
All
the three had long before released themselves from the iron claws
of caste; they openly ate and drank with us, and for this offence
they were regarded as excommunicated, and despised by their
compatriots much more than the Europeans themselves. Their
presence in the pagoda would have polluted it for ever, whereas
the pollution brought by us was only temporary; it would evaporate
in the smoke of cow-dung - the usual Brahmanical incense of
purification - like a drop of muddy water in the rays of the sun.
India is the country for originalities and everything unexpected
and unconventional. From the point of view of an ordinary European
observer every feature of Indian life is contrary to what could
be expected. Shaking the head from one shoulder to another means
no in every other country, but in India it means an emphatic yes.
If you ask a Hindu how his wife is, even if you are well acquainted
with her, or how many children he has, or whether he has any sisters,
he will feel offended in nine cases out of ten. So long as the
host does not point to the door, having previously sprinkled the
guest with rose-water, the latter would not think of leaving. He
would stay the whole day without tasting any food, and lose his
time, rather than offend his host by an unauthorized departure.
Everything contradicts our Western ideas. The Hindus are strange
and original, but their religion is still more original. It has
its dark points, of course. The rites of some sects are truly
repulsive; the officiating Brahmans are far from being without
reproach. But these are only superficialities. In spite of them
the Hindu religion possesses something so deeply and mysteriously
irresistible that it attracts and subdues even unimaginative Englishmen.
The following incident is a curious instance of this fascination:
N.C. Paul, G.B.M.C., wrote a small, but very interesting and very
scientific pamphlet. He was only a regimental surgeon in Benares,
but his name was well known amongst his compatriots as a very learned
specialist in physiology. The pamphlet was called A Treatise on the
Yoga Philosophy, and produced a sensation amongst the representatives
of medicine in India, and a lively polemic between the Anglo-Indian
and native journalists. Dr. Paul spent thirty-five years in studying
the extraordinary facts of Yogism, the existence of which was, for
him, beyond all doubt. He not only described them, but explained
some of the most extraordinary phenomena, for instance, levitation,
the seeming evidence to the contrary of some laws of nature,
notwithstanding. With perfect sincerity, and evident regret, Dr.
Paul says he could never learn anything from the Raj-Yogis. His
experience was almost wholly limited to the facts that fakirs and
Hatha-Yogis would consent to give him. It was his great friendship
with Captain Seymour chiefly which helped him to penetrate some
mysteries, which, till then, were supposed to be impenetrable.
The history of this English gentleman is truly incredible, and
produced, about twenty-five years ago, an unprecedented scandal
in the records of the British army in India. Captain Seymour, a
wealthy and well-educated officer, accepted the Brahmanical creed
and became a Yogi. Of course he was proclaimed mad, and, having
been caught, was sent back to England. Seymour escaped, and
returned to India in the dress of a Sannyasi. He was caught again,
and shut up in some lunatic asylum in London. Three days after,
in spite of the bolts and the watchmen, he disappeared from the
establishment. Later on his acquaintances saw him in Benares, and
the governor-general received a letter from him from the Himalayas.
In this letter he declared that he never was mad, in spite of his
being put into a hospital; he advised the governor-general not
to interfere with what was strictly his own private concern, and
announced his firm resolve never to return to civilized society.
"I am a Yogi," wrote he, "and I hope to obtain before I die what
is the aim of my life - to become a Raj-Yogi." After this letter
he was left alone, and no European ever saw him except Dr. Paul,
who, as it is reported, was in constant correspondence with him,
and even went twice to see him in the Himalayas under the pretext
of botanic excursions.
I was told that the pamphlet of Dr. Paul was ordered to be burned
"as being offensive to the science of physiology and pathology."
At the time I visited India copies of it were very great rarities.
Out of a few copies still extant, one is to be found in the library
of the Maharaja of Benares, and another was given to me by the Takur.
This evening we dined at the refreshment rooms of the railway station.
Our arrival caused an evident sensation. Our party occupied the
whole end of a table, at which were dining many first-class passengers,
who all stared at us with undisguised astonishment. Europeans on an
equal footing with Hindus! Hindus who condescended to dine with
Europeans! These two were rare and wonderful sights indeed. The
subdued whispers grew into loud exclamations. Two officers who
happened to know the Takur took him aside, and, having shaken hands
with him, began a very animated conversation, as if discussing some
matter of business; but, as we learned afterwards, they simply
wanted to gratify their curiosity about us.
Here we learned, for the first time, that we were under police
supervision, the police being represented by an individual clad
in a suit of white clothes, and possessing a very fresh complexion,
and a pair of long moustaches. He was an agent of the secret police,
and had followed us from Bombay. On learning this flattering piece
of news, the colonel burst into a loud laugh; which only made us
still more suspicious in the eyes of all these Anglo-Indians,
enjoying a quiet and dignified meal.
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