From the caves and jungles of Hindostan (1892) - Page 19

FROM THE CAVES AND JUNGLES OF HINDOSTAN.

...personal acquaintance with him. In reply, he said that he was obliged to go immediately to Hardwar, where hundreds of thousands of pilgrims were expected to gather, but he insisted that we remain behind, as cholera was certain to break out among the devotees. He appointed a specific spot at the foot of the Himalayas in the Punjab where we were to meet in a month’s time.

Alas! all of this was written some time ago. Since then, Swami Dayanand’s attitude toward us has changed completely. He is now an enemy of the Theosophical Society and its two founders—Colonel Olcott and the author of these letters. It appeared that, upon entering into a formal alliance with the Society, Dayanand hoped that all its members—Christians, Brahmans, and Buddhists alike—would acknowledge his supremacy and become members of his own organization, the Arya Samaj. Needless to say, this was impossible. The Theosophical Society is based on the principle of complete non-interference with the religious beliefs of its members. Toleration is its foundation, and its goals are purely philosophical. This did not suit Dayanand. He wanted all the members to either become his disciples or be expelled from the Society. It was quite clear that neither the President nor the Council could agree to such a demand. The English and American members, whether they were Christians, Freethinkers, Buddhists, or especially Brahmans, revolted against Dayanand and unanimously demanded that the alliance be dissolved.

However, all of this happened later. At the time I am writing about, we were friends and allies of the Swami, and we learned with deep interest that the Hardwar mela a large religious gathering or fair, which he was to visit, takes place every twelve years. It is a kind of religious festival that attracts representatives from all the numerous sects of India.

IN BOMBAY.

Learned arguments are presented by the debaters in defense of their specific doctrines, and these debates are held in public. This year, the Hardwar gathering was exceptionally large. The Sannyasis—the mendicant monks of India—numbered 35,000 alone, and the cholera that the Swami had predicted did indeed break out.

Since we were not yet ready to leave for our appointed meeting, we had plenty of spare time; so we proceeded to explore Bombay.

The Tower of Silence, located on the heights of Malabar Hill, is the final resting place for all the "sons of Zoroaster." It is, in fact, a Parsee cemetery. Here, their dead—rich and poor, men, women, and children—are all laid in a row, and within a few minutes, nothing remains of them but bare skeletons. These towers, where absolute silence has reigned for centuries, leave a gloomy impression on foreigners. This type of building is very common wherever Parsees live and die. In Bombay, out of six towers, the largest was built 250 years ago, and the smallest only a short time ago. With few exceptions, they are round or square in shape and twenty to forty feet high. They have no roof, windows, or doors, except for a single iron gate opening toward the East, which is so small it is almost hidden by bushes. The first corpse brought to a new tower—or dakhma—must be the body of the innocent child of a mobed (a priest). No one, not even the chief watchman, is allowed to come within thirty paces of these towers. Of all living human beings, only the nassesalars—the corpse-carriers—enter and leave the Tower of Silence. The lives these men lead are truly wretched. No European executioner's social position is worse. They live completely apart from the rest of the world, appearing in the eyes of others as the most...