Indian Antiquary Vol 01

SR No.: 032493
Original Sutra Author: N/A
Author: Jas Burgess
Publisher: Swati Publications
Publication Year: 1984
Total Pages: 430
Language: English
Classification: Book_English
File Size: 22 MB

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THE INDIAN ANTIQUARY.
[JUNE 7, 1872
stand adorned with coloured glass globes, can- gently strikes the open palm upon it just as I dlesticks with glass drops, handsome water have seen a European father do when he was jugs, and everything else that can make it look dazed and broken with the loss of his darling tempting and gorgeous. On this stand are vessels son. There was no display, no shouting, or anyof water and sherbet, sufficient to relieve the thing else that could invite attention, but it was thirst of a couple of hundred people. With plain to see how deeply moved he was. these exceptions the room is quite bare.
Presently the singer narrated the death of One of the most beautiful features of the Mu- Husain, here the Arab's fortitude gave way harram is the charitable and free distribution of altogether, he buried his face in both his hands, water and sherbet to all comers. In every bowed down upon his knees, and wept as if his street in Triplicane (the Musalman quarter of heart would break. It was no mean study of Madras) during the ten days of the feast, there human nature to see this Arab, who would prowere water pandals, to which any thirsty passer- bably think it no wrong to rob and perhaps by might go and drink to his heart's content. murder the lonely traveller in the desert, and During the evenings, when the streets are yet he had a place so soft somewhere within crowded with eager sight-Beers, these water that stormy heart, that he could not listen to stands are much frequented, and are of great the story--most skilfully related be it rememservice. It will be seen that the martyrs were bered-of agony and shameful death without greatly tortured by thirst, as they were for three being as much melted as any tender mother. days cut off from the Euphrates-their only There were many here more unmoved than we supply of water. In pity for their sufferings, were and seemed very perfunctory mourners, the water is thus freely distributed to all that but the greater part of the assembly were like ask, whatever their creed or nationality.
our Arab. The court and its verandas are well filled by Two songs were thus sung, and then one of men, besides the women we cannot see. They the assembly mounted the pulpit and delivered are friends of the family who have provided the an extempore address, dwelling mainly on the house. All sit npon the floor in the mode incidents in the life and death of Ali Akbar, most comfortable to them. We can see all, for Husain's eldest son. He entered minutely into all the place is well lighted with handsome chan- the details with which a loving reverence has deliers, while two candles are fixed to the pulpit, surrounded the story-few of them historically and others glisten on the water-stand.
true probably. But he preached them as if Seated in the middle of the floor is a band they were true, and as if he fully sympathized of about six singers. In the centre is the chief with every pain that befel his hero. One inciperformer, and he is chanting line by line a song | dent out of many can alone be given here to describing the conduct and sufferings of Husain show both the kind of myth which has envelopat the battle of Kerbela. The verses are rathered the history and the pathos which renders long, but each is closed by a sort of chorus, in it so touching. Ali Akbar went to the fight which all the performers join, the audience by his father's side, and fought, as he had taking no part in the actual song. They have promised, like ten men. In the tide of battle an important duty, however, the painful and he was separated from his father, but fought trying one of listening to the harrowing details on. No water had passed his lips for three of the death of their beloved chief. With every days, a blazing sun burnt overhead, his raging passage of the song, come cries, shrieks, and energy in the fight had increased the torment of every sign of deepest sorrow from behind the his thirst, and at length he is tired of killing, cloth that hides the women. How they beat Unable longer to lift his wearied arm, he forces their breasts and weep, as the more touch- his way back to his father who, too, hae for ing passages are recited! The men are less the moment driven back his foes. Ali Akbar noisy, but are evidently very deeply impressed. falls fainting at Husain's feet, crying for Just in front of us is an old and weather-beaten water. In a moment he revives somewhat, and Araba most truculent looking fellow. He sits says, “O father, I said that I could fight for in an attitude of eager listening, resting his chin you and die with you, and see how God hath upon his knees. As the singer proceeds, he is more helped us this day. No arrow hath hurt me, no and more engrossed. At the more touching password has prevailed against mine, I cannot let sages he raises his hand to his forehead, and them slay me. Yet would God I could, for it is