THE months of January, February, and March are pleasant months to the Indian villager and his hard-working cattle. In Southern India, agricultural operations commence about the month of July. As soon as the lands are in a fit condition, the villager takes his cattle to plough his fields, and the ploughing usually occupies several days. Then at the proper times, which he knows by experience, he sows the paddy, attends to the weeding and anxiously looks up to the sky for the periodical rains, and, if they fail, waters the fields from a neighbouring well. The water has to be lifted up at times from a depth of fifteen or twenty feet. This process of irrigation is both difficult and laborious. The villager goes to the well with two others as early as three or four o’clock in the morning and goes on drawing water till nine ; he again commences work at three in the afternoon, and does not stop till it gets dark, and oftentimes, if it is a moonlight night, continues till eight or nine o’clock. It will thus be seen that the villager, whenever occasion requires, does not shrink from working for even twelve or thirteen hours a day. All this time, he cheers himself by singing enlivening songs. Singing songs when fields are watered has become a regular institution in the country, and Hindu women, who pass by, invariably stop to hear the songs, and catch with avidity everything that comes from the lips of the singer. From what they hear in this way they often divine future events. For about the space of five long months, the Indian villager tenderly nurses the plants, as he would his own children, watches their progress day after day with “contending hopes and fears,” and even when the corn gets ripe his anxiety does not cease. He then denies to himself the pleasure of sleeping in his own house. He constructs for himself a temporary bed in the midst of his fields, and there, regardless of the piercing cold or venomous reptiles, keeps his nightly watch to prevent other people’s cattle from committing mischief, to scare away birds that constantly light in numbers on the fields to pick up the grain, and to look after light-fingered gentlemen who find it convenient to carry on their avocations at night. About the end of December or the beginning of January the harvest commences. Then, with thankfulness to God, he stores in his granary the hard-earned grain, which is to sustain him, his wife, and children for a whole year, and in the backyard of his house heaps the straw, for the use of the cattle, that shared with him the hard toil of the previous months. Then comes a period of rest. The anxiety of the villager is now over and he has no cares to occupy his thoughts, and naturally yearns after amusements. It is about this time and the succeeding months of April, May, and June, when the heat is somewhat unbearable, that marriages and other festivals are generally cele-brated by him.
One cool morning about the end of January, when man and beast were at ease, and the people of Kélambakam, having little to do, were longing for some amusement to while away their time, a cluster of people were basking in the sun and spending their time in idle gossip. Muthu Naick, the village watchman, came and informed Kothundarama Mudelly, who formed one of the company, that a troupe of jugglers and acrobats had come to Kélambakam the previous evening and were encamped in the fine mango tope near the temple tank. The whole village was soon in a bustle, as the news spread like wildfire. Little urchins ran to their mothers to tell the glad news, and some even ran to the mango grove to see the new-comers. The women of the village, young and old, were all on the tip-toe of expectation, and commenced to prepare the midday meal earlier than usual.
The jugglers who came to Kélambakam that day belonged to the Thombarava caste. The Thombaravas are a nomad class of people, who earn their livelihood by wandering about the country and exhibiting their feats. The troupe consisted of the chief man, who was about forty years of age, his wife, who was between twenty- five and thirty, his brother, a strong, muscular, well-built youth of twenty, and his two little boys aged about nine and seven. The princi- pal man came to the village munsiff and begged permission to exhibit his feats and show his skill before all the people of the village. After consultation with the chief men of the place permission was at once granted, and it was decided that the performance should commence at three in the afternoon. Long before the appointed hour, the people of the village, young and old, and even pariahs from the parcherry, flocked into the open space opposite to Kothun- darama Mudelly’s house and anxiously waited to witness the exhibition. The headman and the more respectable people were seated on mats before the performers. The rest of the people stood surrounding the performers, who had sufficient space in the middle to exhibit their feats. The females were standing in a group in a separate place, and some young men actually climbed up a tree that was near and were safely perched on the branches. The headman having given permission for the per- formance to commence, the chief juggler took his drum and began to beat it violently. Its discordant notes were heard far and wide, and the result was that more people came running to the spot. It might be safely said that most of the people of Kélambakam were present on the occasion. The juggler than said—“Great and good men of Kélambakam! I have per- formed my most astounding feats to the admira- tion of all that have seen them. I have per- formed before the Zemindar Runga Reddy, and he was pleased to present me with a laced cloth. I showed my extraordinary skill in jugglery to Zemindar Ramasamy Mudelly, and he was pleased to make a present of the new cloth which my wife is now wearing; and only yesterday I played before the people of the neighbouring village, who were so well pleased with me that they gave me money, old clothes, and abundance of grain. But I know you are even more liberal than all these. I pray that you will witness my great feats and reward me as I deserve.” So saying, he asked his brother and his two little boys to step forward. They came and bowed to the audience and then made a number of somersaults, double and single. These were done by all the three in quick succession.
Then the two little boys came forward and lay. down, the one upon the other. They rolled on the ground with such singular swift- ness that soon the outlines of their bodies were entirely lost to the eye, and they looked like a cannon-ball rolling on the ground. This little feat excited the highest admiration of the audience, and the little ones at once became the favourites of the villagers, who, as will be seen afterwards, showed their appreciation in a tangible form.
The third item in the programme was even more wonderful than the above. The chief man brought a coconut and asked some of the audience to examine it. He said that his brother would throw it into the air, and that, falling upon the crown of his head, it would break in two. So saying, he gave the coconut to the youth, who examined it and threw it up to a height of about fifteen feet, but instead of fearlessly holding up his head, slipped aside, pretending to be afraid to undergo the dan- gerous ordeal. The principal performer, then patting the youth on the back, said that he should not be so mindful of his life, that the good will and approbation of the good people of Kélambakam were more to them than his life, and that therefore he should not shrink from performing the dangerous feat. Thus admonished, the youth once more took the coconut, threw it up, and stood upright like a column without wavering for a single instant. The coconut came down upon the crown of his head, and straightway fell to the ground in two pieces. Soon there arose a shout among the people who witnessed this extraordinary feat. Some said “Shabash!” some said that they had not see the like before, and Kothun- darama Mudelly and others showed a desire to examine the youth’s head. But nothing was visible there. His head was as sound as ever it had been.
The next thing shown was the mango tree trick. The chief actor took a mango seed, showed it to the people, and then planted it in the ground. He sprinkled some water over it and covered it with a basket. A few minutes afterwards he took out the basket, and lo! there was found a tender plant with two or three leaves sprouting out of the seed. More water was poured over it, and it was again covered with a basket. After the lapse of a few minutes more the plant was found in fresh growth with a height of about ten or twelve inches. The same process was repeated three or four times, and on the last occasion the plant rose to a height of three or four feet. Thus in the short space of half an hour the mango seed became a tree. This trick is very common in this country, and it is said that jugglers even cause fruit to grow and distribute it to the people. Our juggler was not able to do this, as mango trees bear fruit only in May and June, and this per- formance took place in January.
After this came a dangerous and difficult feat. The chief performer, planting his feet close together, stood in the middle of the ring like a column. His brother then climbed over his body with great agility, stood upon his shoulders, and lifted up one of the two boys, who, resting his hands upon the crown of his uncle’s head, raised his legs into the air. In that perilous position, he performed some clever feats, which the people beheld with wonder and not without a sense of fear for the safety of the small performer. This was considered as simply marvellous from the way the people showed their appreciation of this exhibition of skill on the part of the boy, but what would they say to the following, described in the autobiography of the Mogul Emperor, Jehanghir ? " One of seven men," says the Emperor, " stood upright before us, a second passed upwards, along his body, and head to head placed his feet upwards in the air. A third managed to climb up in the same manner, and, planting his feet on those of the second, stood with his head upwards, and so alternately to the seventh, who crowned this marvellous human pillar with his head upper- most. And what excited an extraordinary clamour of surprise was to observe the first man, who thus supported upon the crown of his head the whole of the other six, lift one foot as high as his shoulder, standing thus upon one leg and exhibiting a degree of strength and steadiness not exactly within the scope of my comprehension."
The next scene enacted was the needle trick. A needle, such is ordinarily used by the people, was placed on the ground with the point turned upwards. The female performer walked on her hands, and reached the place where the needle was planted. Then gently lowering herself, she lifted the needle with her eye by skilfully closing the lids on the point. This wonderful feat was greatly admired by the simple villagers, and Appalacharri was loud in his praises of the woman’s skill.
The chief man then took a cannon-ball about the size of a large-sized wood-apple, and asked the people to examine it and note its weight. He threw it to a height of fifteen or twenty feet, and adjusted himself in such a way that the ball fell on the nape of his neck. Then he made certain motions of the body with extreme agility, and the ball swiftly rolled on his back in all directions and even right along each arm.
Then a block of granite that was lying in a corner of the street was brought by four vil- lagers into the ring. It was about a yard in length, three-fourths of a foot in breadth, and about half a foot in height. Strong ropes were passed round both ends of the granite block and tied to the flowing hair of the second per- former. Thus fastened, the stone was lifted from the ground by four men, who after- wards let it go. Forthwith the youth, with his heavy weight, whirled round and round, and soon the man and the stone were lost to the eye. The people of the village were loud in their praises of this herculean feat.
After this, about six or seven earthen pots, of various sizes, were placed one above the other on the head of the chief performer, so that they resembled a conical pillar. Skilfully balancing the weight on his head, the juggler climbed up a bamboo pole about twenty feet high, which was firmly planted in the ground. Then, closely fixing his legs to the bamboo and steadily holding its end in his grip, he com- menced to move backwards and forwards. The bending capacity of the bamboo pole was very great, and the utmost limits were reached on either side, so that this feat, apart from its difficult nature, presented a most interesting sight to the beholders. As soon as the per- former got down, they found, to their great astonishment, that the pots remained intact, and that their positions were not in the least changed.
The last, but not the least, of the perform- ances which formed a most fitting close to this varied and interesting programme, was the strange disappearance scene. The woman was brought forward, and her legs and feet were tied together with a strong rope. She was then put into a basket, which was afterwards covered. After a little while the basket was opened and was found empty. The woman was not there. By and by the husband called the missing woman by her name, which she answered to from a corner of the street. This closed the performance, and the people were extremely delighted with the whole thing. Some gave old clothes to the performers, and others made presents in money. The women of the village vied with the men in rewarding the actors, and they took especial delight in giving the two boys cakes and other eatables. Our old friend Appalacharri gave the woman an old cloth and some money also, and, by the orders of the village headman, every household in the village gave half a measure of paddy.
Thus ended a pleasant afternoon’s amuse- ment. It formed the subject of the daily talk in Kélambakam for several days, and for months afterwards the people had a vivid recol- lection of this visit of the jugglers to the village.