INDIA AND ITS MYSTERY

Dominion, Volume 21, Issue 114, 11 February 1928, Page 18

INDIA AND ITS MYSTERY

NEED FOR RIGID BRITISH CONTROL

Oases of romance and phantasy forgive much that is sordid and ugly in India. Like a tantalising mirage to the parched desert-traveller, glimpses of Oriental splendour, fragrant visions of an Eastern fairyland, piquant temptation to chivalrous adventure, taunt the casual visitor, who sees through a veil of mystery the strange, elusive world of faerie and legend which is the East eternal (writes Lady Drummond Hay in the “Sphere”). There are princesses to be rescued from dreadful dooms—work for modern Perseuses and Galahads; perfumed gardens, flowery pleasaunces, where the argent sickle moon cuts marriage vows; gorgeous palaces adorned with exotic lavishness; the unreal stalked by a Nemisis of reality. “The lot of Indian princesses, is sad beyond imagination,” one of their number confided to me. “We have no rights, no redress for wrongs. We are the lowest pawns on the chequerboard of India’s seven hundred States. Wards of the Government or State, married at their pleasure, queens for a day, humiliated by degenerate husbands, scorned by dancing-girl favourites, discarded forever.” Startling Revelations. Startling revelations were made to me by several Indian royal ladies, who, citing their own special cases and those of their luckless friends, alleged that the Indian ruler of to-day is in the majority of instances the worst specimen of his sex in his kingdom or principality. Naturally there are exceptions, but I was told of enough examples to agree with the princesses that the system, of upbringing of prospective rulers is responsible for the failings ascribed to them, more than any peculiar kind of nature in the individual. . Marriages are arranged for political or financial reasons between youthful scions of ruling houses, still wards of the British Government. The princesses do not complain of the marriages, but claim that as a guardian the British Government should continue' its interest in them, assuring their life-long prestige, suitable consideration, and exact guarantees of sufficient money to be secured to them personally to shield them in after life from want and the cruelty of neglect. The Dowager Begum of Janjira, a woman whose personality and force of character would single her out in any society, herself one of the victims of the present system, told me that one of her friends (whom she, named), married to a well-known Indian ruler, is living in poverty and wretchedness in one comer of the Palace. “A' ward of the British Government, the marriage was arranged, but in less time than the average Englishwoman’s honeymoon endures, the unfortunate girl was discarded in favour of a dan-cing-girl, who assumed the rights and appropriated the clothing and jewels of the" bride. Humiliated, deprived of her hand-maidens, of her personal belongings, things have gone from bad to worse, and now”—the Begum’s, eyes blazed with indignation—“the rightful Maharani is forced to live in one dark, airless room in the Palace, with no servant to wait upon her, and only one sari (dress) to her name. She literally has no change of clothes.”

“We are accustomed to the habit of ‘ our husbands taking our hand-maidens as concubines,” chimed in another princess. "It would be quite useless to protest against that, but the insult lies in the fact that women of no caste, women from the gutters, are brought into the palaces, dressed in our clothes, decked with our jewels, presented to the Vicereine and foreign ladies of high rank as ‘the Maliarani. What must the British ladies think of Indian princesses represented by prototypes of your street-walkers?” “To Whom Can We Appeal?” Once thev are married, so my friend alleged, the British Government loses all interest in their fates. They have not the usual recourse to law open to women of lower rank. “To whom can we appeal?” Above the ordinary Courts of Justice there is only the State itself, or the Government. From the State thev can get no justice, of course, and the British are taxed with culpable indifference. The Begum of Janjira has suffered the greatest wrongs that a woman can be called upon to endure; her suit is before the Government; in the meantime, were it not for the shelter of her sister’s home she would be homeless and penniless. Jewels she had, a dowry of treasure, coins, rich garments, and costly ornaments To-dav she has nothing, and years of litigation have not restored her personal possessions, or even part of them. . , Her younger sister, affrighted by what she saw taking place all round her, defied all authority by refusing to marry any one of the numerous roval suitors for her hand. “Rather than marry into certain misery I will kill myself,” she told her mother passionately. The Westerner would find it difficult to realise what this means in a country like India, where tradition exacts that girls must marry before thev become women. It was an unheard-of defiance, but Atiya. Begum remained unyielding, and in later years found romance and happiness with a Jewish artist, who is one of the finest and most honourable men treading the earth to-dav. The story of Atiya Begum and her husband is an epic in itself, and too beautiful to be glossed over hastily. Wonderful Embroideries. But while their husbands are alleged to be throwing their money,, or rather their revenues, away in Europe in Western dissipation, the princesses, of a greater culture and more sensitive refinement, endeavour to preserve some of the old-time graces and accomplishments. Wonderful embroideries of age-old inspiration grow under their delicate fingers. Gold, Jlver, gorgeous coloured threads express symbols whose meanings are lost in the mists of time. Hand-woven tissues, as fine as the spider’s web, as frail and as strong as love itself, serve for the many saris which each lady keeps carefully folded in the smallest space possible, perfumed with little muslin bags of aromatic leaves and petals. When the sari is worn out the material is burnt, and the molten metal carefully extracted to serve again. The toilet is a most alluring ritual. Long, gleaming black hair to be combed, oiled, and scented with

the pungent perfumes peculiar to India. The universal base is sandalwood, and the favourite combination rose or jasmin. Living flowers or precious pins decorate the finished coiffure. Dark eyes are given an added languor and seduction by a touch of kohl under the lashes, not the powdered antimony of the Near East, but carefully prepared soot from the flame of castor oil mixed with pure butter, which is said to be most beneficial to the eyes. No need for lip-stick in India, the scarlet juice of prepared betel nut stains the lips carmine enough. Amongst the Moslems it is customary to henna the fin-ger-tips, the toes, and heels. Kohl, perfumes, incense, all is made in the zenana. Periodically a servant brings round the fragrant censer, over whose sweet smoke the ladies hold their dresses Jo impregnate them with the scent.