By-Ways of Bombay | Page 2

invocation to the spirit of the dead woman,
during which her relations in turn drop a copper coin into the salver.
"Chandrabai," he wails "take this thy husband's gift of sorrow;" and as
the company echoes his lament, Vishnu rises and drops his coin into
the plate. Then her four brothers drop a coin apiece; her sister-in-law,
whispering "It is for food" does likewise; also her mother with the
words "choli patal" or "Tis a robe and bodice for thee";--and so on until
all the relatives have cast down their offerings,--one promising a fair
couch, another an umbrella, a third a pair of shoes, and little Moti, the
dead woman's eldest child, "a pair of bangles for my mother," until in
truth all the small luxuries that the dead woman may require in the life
beyond have been granted. Meanwhile the strange invocation proceeds.
All the dead ancestors of the family, who are represented by the quaint
ghost-pegs in the gods' room of Vishnu's home, are solemnly addressed
and besought to receive the dead woman in kindly fashion; and as each
copper coin tinkles in the salver, Rama cries, "Receive this, Chandrabai,
and hie thee to thy last resting-place."
When the last offering has been made, the women again raise the salver
and the party fares back to Vishnu's house, where a rude shrine of
Satvai (the Sixth Mother) has been prepared. "For," whispers our guide,
"Chandrabai died without worshipping Satvai and her spirit must
perforce fulfil those rites." Close to the shrine sits a midwife keeping
guard over a new gauze cloth, a sari and a bodice, purchased for the
spirit of Chandrabai; and on a plate close at hand are vermilion for her
brow, antimony for her eyes, a nose-ring, a comb, bangles and
sweetmeats, such as she liked during her life-time. When the shrine is
reached, one of the brothers steps forward with a winnowing-fan, the
edge of which is plastered with ghi and supports a lighted wick; and as
he steps up to the shrine, the relations and friends of the deceased again
press forward and place offerings of fruit and flowers in the fan. There
he stands, holding the gifts towards the amorphous simulacrum of the
primeval Mother, while Rama the hierophant beseeches her to send the
spirit of the dead Chandrabai into the winnowing-fan.

And lo! on a sudden the ghostly flame on the lip of the fan dies out!
The spirit of Chandrabai has come! Straightway Rama seizes the fan
and followed by the rest dashes into the room where Krishna the
medium is still sitting. Four or five men commence a wild refrain to the
accompaniment of brazen cymbals, and Rama passes the
winnowing-fan, containing the dead woman's spirit, over the head of
the medium. "Let the spirit appear" shrieks Rama amid the clashing of
the cymbals.
"Let the spirit appear" he cries, as he blows a cloud of incense into
Krishna's face. The medium quivers like an aspen leaf; the dead
woman's brothers crawl forward and lay their foreheads upon his feet;
he shakes more violently as the spirit takes firmer hold upon him; and
then with a wild shriek he rolls upon the ground and lies, rent with
paroxysms, his face stretched upwards to the winnowing-fan. Louder
and louder crash the cymbals; louder rises the chant. "Who art thou?"
cries Rama. "I am Chandrabai," comes the answer. "Hast thou any wish
unfulfilled?" asks the midwife. "Nay, all my wishes have been met,"
cries the spirit through the lips of the medium, "I am in very truth
Chandrabai, who was, but am not now, of this world." As the last
words die away the men dash forward, twist Krishna's hair into a knot
behind, dress him, as he struggles, in the female attire which the
midwife has been guarding, and place in his hand a wooden slab rudely
carved into the semblance of a woman and child. "Away, away to the
underworld" chant the singers; and at the command Krishna wrenches
himself free from the men who are holding him and dashes out with a
yell into the night.
Straight as an arrow he heads for the seashore, his hands clutching the
air convulsively, his 'sari' streaming in the night-breeze; and behind,
like hounds on the trail of the deer, come Rama, the brethren, the sisters,
and rest of the community. Over the shingle they stream and down on
to the hard wet sand. Some one digs a hole; another produces a black
cock; and Rama with a knife cuts its throat over the hole, imploring the
spirit's departure, at the very moment that Krishna with a final shriek
plunges into the sea. They follow him, carry him out of danger, and lay
him, stark and speechless, upon the margin of the