Gujarát and the Gujarátis/The Muktád
The Parsi has many holidays, but none of such deep religious import, as the Hindus, unless it was the Muktád.
The Muktád Holidays.
Muktád reads like a Zend term, closely allied to Sanskrit, and means the "saved," or "released." It alludes to what the Occidentals call "Emancipated spirits." Doslá is a prákrit Hindu term, and means, in anything, "the old puts," "the old fellows," what some English newspapers call "the venerable departed worthies." This is the origin: Muktád is of Pagan growth, not belonging to Zoroastrianism "pure and simple." Zoroastrians in Iran, over twelve hundred years ago, had between five and ten days set apart every year "for prayers and fasting," as expiation for their own sins, and more as offerings for "repose of the souls" of their relatives. But all this is changed in India. The praying is changed into gambling, and the fasting into feasting. The simple ceremonial sank into a gross and debasing pagan rite.
Twenty years ago (the Parsis have since improved) this was the explanation of the Doslá holidays. Those of our departed relatives who had been "good boys" on earth, and therefore admitted to Heaven, were allowed every year a long holiday for eighteen days to return to earth and live with their earthly friends. There are proofs positive of these "spirits" having visited our grandmothers and mothers-in-law (in their dreams, of course), and telling them what good things of earth they would like to have for their creature comforts during their holiday sojourn "here below." Their wants were often unconfined. But generally they consisted of the following: Brand-new clothes, various dishes of fowl, fish, and fruit; good country wine and toddy, and, in short, all those things they had a relish for during their earthly existence. They also required things for amusement, such as paper kites, tops, packs of cards, &c. This is how the dear ones were received: The best room in the house was reserved for them; it was washed, scoured, and furnished with pictures. In the centre was placed a many-branched iron frame; on the top of the frame was placed a tray of choicest flowers (the only redeeming feature in this whole heathen ceremonial), along with the flowers there were fruits. On all sides of the frame were placed metal pots filled with crystal water, and by virgins, female and male. Surrounding the frame, on the floor, were arranged steaming dishes of edibles and rows of favourite playthings. The priest (Dastur) consecrated the food and other things, and took a mouthful from every dish (a full distended priestly mouth seldom measures under 5 inches by 7), he then declared the feast open to the enjoyment of the spirits visitant. These entered the room unperceived, except by the priest and the grandmother or mother-in-law; they washed themselves with the water, and fell to. This degrading farce was carried on for eighteen days, three times a day. Many Parsi families have got rid of this tomfoolery, but still it lingers on. The whole thing is intended for the good of two, the priest (Dastur) and the cook. These eighteen days are a carnival to these fellows. To the paterfamilias, and his son who is an unemployed graduate of the University, they are the worst days in the year. The old gentleman has to spend his cash without stint, and the young gentleman has to submit every now and then to the bitter reproaches of his progenitor, who turns fiercely upon him and says: "See, you idle unskilful vagabond! Look at the barber[1] of a cook; we have to pay him Rs. 30 for eighteen days, and he knows not how to make an omelet. And you, sirrah, you are what they call B.A., and M.A., and your education alone has cost me Rs. 5,000. And what do you earn? Nothing. Oh, why did not your mother re-marry before you were born!" The old man is justified in complaining, though the logic of his concluding remark is eminently Hibernian. And who can help pitying the poor "B.A. and M.A."?
But look at the rotund, fatuous Dastur. How busy he is! What a roaring trade he drives! Though he visits a dozen houses in swift succession, there is only one room for him at every house, and that is the well-stocked prayer-room, "the Mecca of his appetite." He lives in "a paradise of pies and puddings." He prays, eats, and sleeps; sleeps, eats, and prays. While muttering the meaningless prayer, his eyes are on the solids—"thesubstantials, Sir Giles, the substantials." The jargon he mutters is dry, "so he moistens his words in his cups." And when, with his inner man thus fortified, he proceeds to prayers, "his words are of marrow, unctuous dropping fatness." He is a droll fellow, this Parsi Levite, and laughs over the folly of those on whose substance he fattens. He has materials in him of a good divine and a scholar, but he is born in an atmosphere of hollow imposture and sham, and lives and dies a cheat and a charlatan. To this man is due the invention and perpetuation of the thick haze of superstition which envelops the pure and simple form of worship bequeathed to us by the Prophet-Priest of Iran.
The Mahomedan holiday of the year, if holiday it may be called, is the Mo'haram.
- ↑ Any utterly useless fellow.