LETTERS FROM INDIA.

Evening Star, Issue 13047, 15 February 1907, Page 6

LETTERS FROM INDIA.

A NEW ZEALAND LADY’S IMPRESSIONS. We came to Bangalore on Saturday evening at 5.45. 'The mail trains always travel at night, unless the journey is a long one, so that the day must be included as well- We left Madras at 6.15 the evening before, so we were on the road all night, fortunately, the moon was full, and ifc was possible to see something, and I enjoyed the ex ~ perience till I began to get tired from want of sleep. At one station, a big junction, we were side-tracked for nearly an hour, -but A. got one of the station boys to bring us some tea, and we had brought a hamper, so we enjoyed a midnight supper. Night or day, there is always something to be seen at the stations. The native who wants to take a train makes for the station just when he happens, to think of it. He may arrive twenty-four hours too soon, so he camps down and spends most of the time snoozing. The people of India have a wonderful capacity for sleeping at any time and m any place. If you leave your carnage for a few minutes in some quiet place the probability is that when yon come batk to it you will find the coachman lying under a tree snoring loudly. Then all the spectators undertake to wake him up, calling “ Coachmabn ! Coachmahn ! At the railway stations it is usual to see sleeping forms lying about on the platform. and at a big junction like Jalaipet, on the Bangalore line, a waiting room is provided for natives, and there one may see rows upon rows of white, shrouded form stretched out like corpses. Bangalore is one of the two principal military stations in South India, and, in addition to the British regiments there, the Rajah of Mysore has his own army, so the place fairly swarms with soldiers, and in the morning one wakes to the sound of bugles. The British military quarters are all called cantonments, and we are staying at Cubbon Hotel, in the cantonments.

This morning we rose betimes, and at seven o’clock went out to see the fruit and vegetable market. The market-place is evidently provided by the municipality* and the produce sold either in stalls under cover nr out in the open, the latter being preferred, the seller simply spreading out a piece of sacking and arranging the fruit or vegetables in heaps. The problem of living economically is solved here, and I wish we could have something like it in New Zealand. A rupee is worth 15 annas, and an anna is worth exactly one penny of our money; an anna is worth 12 pies, and one can buy a pie’s worth of almost anything. The vegetables on sale this morning were for the most part of strange kinds; even those that had the same names as ours were generally different in appearance. There were beet, carrots. cabbages, cauliflowers, peas, beans of strange sorts, gourds most wonderful in appearance, but they included our marrows and pumpkins, drum-sticks, bringahs, a vegetable of the tomato species, but white or purple (our egg plant, I think), onions, garlic, and so forth. The sellers showed, too, a great variety of strange greens, including wild oxalis, coriander plants, young plantain leaves, the young stems of the same plant, and many others I have forgotten. The fruit was not so varied—oranges, very indifferent, apples, pomegranates, papaio (I don't know how to spell the word), pnmmeloes, figs, grapes (awfully sour), bananas, custard apples, cocoanuts, and a fruit called hill raspberry, that looked like a cross between a raspberry and a blackberry, and had none of the good qualities of either. The fruit is mostly almost tasteless or sickly sweet; the vegetables are tasteless or nasty; hence the prevalence of dishes with curry. Some military lord is arriving to-day, and we are hoping to see a military display, but the “ boys ” at the hotel can’t tell us anything about*these things. The Rajah also comes into residence on Thursday next, and that ought to mean a show of some kind. I am hoping that we can get permission to see his palace before he comes. We passed it yesterday afternoon. It is a very grand pile of buildings. standing in immense grounds, which A. says are worth seeing. I forgot to say that one of the most interesting, and at the same time annoying, feature of the market is the coolies. When a housekeeper buys her stock for the day she employs a coolie to take it home, if she hasn't brought a servant with her, and, as we went into the market, we were pestered with boys, who followed us round. One littlefellow came up to the carriage as we were driving along, and offered his services. When A- told him she did not want him he kept up with the carriage, pleading; “ Take one Bttle boy, missje!” I am keeping a sharp look-out for flowers, but most that I have seen—it is the off season.—grow- in our New Zealand gardens, where they flourish more beautifully—roses, verbenas, phloxes, and the rest But there aro trees and creepers with beautiful Sowers. We have nothing to compare, either in color or in. name, with -one shrub, which has most of .its leaves green, but every branch ending in a bunch of flaming crimson. They call it popularly the “liar’s tongue.” Here in the Mission garden at Bangalore I can see two lovely creepeis, one an orange-colored bigonia, the other like a small Convolvulus with bright scarlet flowers. Some of the common trees-have

gorgeous blossoms of crimson, yellow, and white. Orchids grow beautifully out c 4 doors, but few people take the trouble to cultivate them. The native gardeners seem to have only very crude notions of gardening, and I rather think the Europeans axe a little too indolent. But one Mysore Government at whose bungalow we called, had a compound full of roses in pots; there must have been hundreds of them. The season for them is nearly over, but I was turned into this train of news by the gardener, who interrupted me to give me a beautiful bunch of Marechal Ni£l roses. There is no end'to the strange sights cue may see here. On Friday, when we went into the bazaars, we passed a roan rolling over and over in the dust. As he rolled he chanted a monotonous dirge. A- told dm he had taken a vow to roll a certain distance. Apparently it is easier to do tha! kind of thing than to work, for the man who _is performing a vow can always get plenty to cat. He has a prescriptive right to establish himself on the verandah of some well-to-do fellow-religionist, and he can live on the fat of the land; or, failing the wealthy patron, h© can always share the food offered at the temples. We are settled for a week at least in the Bangalore Cantonments, 4,000 ft above Madras, and consequently much cooler and more bracing ; otherwise there isn’t much difference between life in the two places. As I try to write there is a constant din outside. The army transport carts, drawn by teams of mules, seem to be always on the road ; the native drivers of all kinds of vehicles keep up a constant “Hoi! Hoi I* t> warn foot passengers and alow-moving bullocks and buffaloes; while the crow, a\ bird as inquisitive as weka and as cheeky as a sparrow, keeps up an incessant “ Caw! caw!” The coppersmith never.ceases from his tank, tunk, that procures for hkn the name of “ madness bird ”; while another bird, with a curious shuddering rote that suggests a creaking wheel, helps to make things merry. Now that A, is recovering we can get about and see the sights. When we go back to Madras she is to take me through the native bazaars. I have seen the fruit * and flower market. The people have a very curious custom by which the various shop keepers, or bazaar men, as they are called, confine themselves to the sale of one kin<i of article only. In one street nothing bul brass pots will be sold, in another only embroidery work, and so on. On our way to the fruit and flowers we passed through a big native quarter. In parts the houses are continuous, and are built right on to the street; but the street door gives entrance to a court, round which a dozen or more families may live. On the street front there is always a raised verandah, and here the cows, donkeys, and buffaloes are usually housed for the night. The shops or bazaars are always open in front, and extremely small; in many cases the verandah serves as a shop. The streets and lanes arc very narrow, some so narrow that a European vehicle could not pass down them. In every one progress is slow, owing to the native carts and the foot-passen-gers, who swarm even in Euxopena quarters. In the first street we met the carriage of a wealthy native. It was a fine English landau drawn by a pair of horses. There were four servants in attendance, a coacliman and three syces (grooms) w« should call them footmen. One of thefi© was on the box with “coachman, the other two held to the sides of the carriage and ran along with it—to clear the road. A. says. All were dressed in green and white* and the three syces carried chowrics -—batons with long tufts of yaks hair at one end. These look very stylish. Latei on we saw a rajah driving in his landau, and his four servants were in green, with heavy yellow embroidery. We passed through the braes pot bazaar and the earthenware pot bazaar, then along the streets where goldsmiths and moneylenders do business. The latter were crowded with clients, for the native is an eiklless borrower. He is always in debt and always wanting advances. The only bazaar we explored was that devoted to flowers, which are not sold as with us, but the flowers are stripped of leaves and tied to strings so as to form garlands like our daisy Short lengths are sold for the hair, and bunches of certain kinds for offerings at the temples—white or yellow are preferred, but some pink and red ones are used. At the fruit bazaar A. made some purchases w T hich took an un con-scion able time. A native newer asks the right price for anything. A. says it is great fun bargaining. I daresay it is when y°u know the language, but I missed the fun. She would ask the price of a bunch of bananas (price about two pence) ; the bazaarznan would reply erne rupee, to which she would retort, “Do you think me a fool ? I’ll give lid.” Then he replied ; 4 * You must think me a madman.” and so on. If he wouldn’t come down she refused to take them, and in one case where she wanted apples the man waiter! till the coachman mounted the box and prepared to start. Then he plumped bis apples on A.’s lap and said she could have them at her price. The usual practice is to send the butler ©r tb© cook to do the day’s marketing; they are always adepts in the art of bargaining, and make a small commission for themselves. Where there are native shops in the main streets, one occasionally sees funny things in the way of names of firms. I mean to keep a good look-out for them, but these are some : “ God Pless Yon and C 0.,” “ Prince of Wales Watch and Clock Consolers,” “ European Loafers.” What do you think this means ? In letters, too, on© comes across extr arod in ary things. Usually a letterwriter is employed if the letter is to be written in English. A. has some ■wonderful specimens. She gave me one from, a mother who complained that one of the masters ill-treated her daughter by “pmcKings” and “screwings” and “twisting her neck.” Her letter was addressed to “ Lady H., Esq.” Another letter opened with “ Honored Madam ! Good morning, I have something to say to you.” Then a teacher who resigned his post, and was surprised to be taken at hie word, wrote, “ I have decided to stick up to my situation.” A student at the Christian College, in reply to the question : “ What is the teaching of our Lord concerning divorce?” said. “For this cause shall a man cleave his father and mother and stick up to his wife.” The wonder to me is that anyone who has mastered Tamil should find the least difficulty with any other language. Bangalore (Mysore Stale), November 6, 1906.