THE GODDESS COMES

Greymouth Evening Star, 28 December 1934, Page 3

THE GODDESS COMES

MAGNIFICENCE IN JAIPUR. Twice a year the Goddess Gangor takes the air, and all Jaipur attends her. The Maharani herself adorns the deity with precious jewels before the precession starts, and the Maharaja and his chief Sirdars await her in the great Chaugan Square, says the “NewsChronicle.” Men in scarlet lift the silver poles of the Goddess's palanquin, and bear her shoulder high, through Jaipur's crowded streets. For days people have been pouring into the city. Whole villages march in, clapping their hands and chanting to the rhythmic heat as they step gaily through the dust. It’s good that Jaipur’s streets are wide, with spacious sidewalks, and broad open squares, for every inch of space is needed. The women pack themselves close together on the shop roofs, and the high temple stairs, looking like a herbaceous border* of vivid colours against the rose-red walls. The men swarm on the sidewalks below, and spread out into the streets. Every woman wears a new robe, and every man a new turban, on the day the Goddess passes by, and the variety of shades and tints is marvellous. Red and orange, blue, pink, and green, with clear pale yellow, and delicate mauve form a decorative mass of colour that glows in the sunshine with rich exuberance. Not even hours of waiting can lessen the good humour of the crowd, who make an all-day festival of the Goddess’s outing. They bargain briskly at the shops—a lively trade is done in cloth, and brass and bright glass bracelets. They examine the freshlydipped webs of turban muslin that the dyers wave back and forth to dry. They push their way past the goats and cows and sacred bulls that wander where they like. Reluctantly the throng parts to allow elephants, ekkas, and motor-cars to pass, but it closes up again behind them in excited, laughing groups. It is a marvel that the police are ever able to clear a way for the procession. At the last moment some villager is sure to be seized with an irresistible desire to be on the opposite side of the street. He makes a dash, the policeman make a grab, and grinning broadly, the man is hauled back. But under cover of the confusion, a dozen other spectators have changed sides.

THROUGH THE GATE. At last the penetrating note of shrill pipes compels silence, and a rattle of drums announces that the Goddess has emerged from the threefold Tripolia Gate of the Palace. Before her come the State elephants, caparisoned and painted—an elephant is vastly proud of the decorations done in colour all down its trunk and across its huge forehead. Two by two, horses parade in old chain armour, followed by camels with saddles of fine leather, and carts drawn by red-robed, white, trotting bullocks. A guard of honour in long green coats carries heavy maces of chased silver, and paces slowly along just in front of the Goddess’s palariq uin. Clliipring with jewels and tinsel, the Goddess Gangor stands under her velvet canopy, a stiff, little figure in heavy gold brocade, and all do her

obeisance as she is carried by. Yaktail fans are waved before her as before Royalty. Banners and pennants flutter in front and behind, and scar-let-clad servitors swarm on all sides. Through the wide streets she goes in State, and into the great open Chaugan. In his pavilion on the palace will the Maharaja and his courtiers stand up to receive her. The Royal elephants drawn up in a row, lift their trunks in salute. Specially-trained dancing horses pirouette for her amusement, and Yo-Yo experts flip their toys high into the air. Slowly the. Goddess passess on. Through a side gate from the Chaugan into the palace grounds, the crowd now shut out, she’goes to the crocodile lake that laps against an old blue pavilion. Solemnly she sways back and forth in a richly-decorated swing slung by the cool water. And then her great day is over. Her procession dwindles away in the twilight, and she is hurried back to her niche in the Old Palace Zenana. For half a year she languishes in oblivion, and then once again she promenades through a joy-making city.