IT was at dusk one day in the merry month of May that Muthu Naick, the taliyari of Kélam- bakam, came to the house of a relative of mine in a neighbouring village, where I was spending my holidays. He had a cadjan leaf neatly rolled up which contained an invitation from Kothundarama Mudelly to my relative to attend a dramatic performance which was to take place in his village that night. We sent intimation to the headman expressing our willingness to attend the performance. After taking a hearty supper, I started with a number of friends about nine o’clock. Our way lay not along macadamized roads or over fine bridges, but through fields, shady groves, channels, and sometimes right through the beds of dried tanks. We had to walk about four miles before we reached Kélambakam. The moon was shining brightly over us, and I saw on my way the people of a whole village set out together to go to Kélambakam. Young men I saw hastening towards the place in groups, and singing songs by turns. I saw old men relating to women and children on the way the story which they were going to see represented on the stage that night, and discussing the relative merits of the actors. Never shall I forget the sight that impressed me so vividly on that occasion. It was a fine moonlight night, and hundreds of simple villagers of all sorts and conditions issued from shady groves, walked through fields and beds of dried tanks, crossed channels, and kept pouring into Kélambakam from all quarters in their best attire. When we were about a mile from the village we heard the noise of some thousands of people from about thirty or forty villages assembled in the plains of Kélambakam. As soon as we reached the place we saw some five or six thousand people squatting on the ground, and it was several minutes before we could be taken through the densely packed assembly and safely seated on mats in the open space in the middle. There was no raised stage, no en- closure for the actors; we simply saw five or six actors of whom one was a female. We also saw two washermen with torches in their hands. The players live in a neighbouring village, and this is the troupe whose services are called into requisition by the people of about thirty or forty villages in the neighbourhood of Kélambakam. The players have some reputa- tion as actors, and their remuneration is fixed at one pagoda, or seven shillings per night. Any presents they get in the shape of money or clothes of course they take to themselves. The play commenced about ten o’clock. The well-known story of Harischandra was repre- sented on the stage. The following is a short account of the story.
Once upon a time a number of pious Brahmin travellers went about visiting different places in India, bathing in the holy waters and worship- ping at the different shrines. On their way they visited Ayodhia (Oudh) which was then ruled by a young prince named Harischandra. He was a most virtuous ruler, truthful and honest; and the moment he heard of the holy Brahmins, the prince went to meet them and received them kindly. They, highly pleased with the hospitality of the good prince, and with the beneficence and justice of his ad- ministration of the country, told him that the ruler of Canouj had a daughter whose match- less beauty they could not describe in words, and that she alone was fit to be his wife. Harischandra, who was then unmarried, was fascinated by the very favourable account given to him of the princess, and requested the Brah- mins to go to the ruler of Canouj on his behalf and bring about a marriage between himself and the beautiful princess. The Brahmins consented, went to Canouj, and delivered their message to the king, at the same time speaking very highly of the qualities and virtues of the ruler of Oudh. A day for the Svayamvara ¹ was selected, and the king asked the travellers to bring Harischandra to Canouj on the ap- pointed day. The different princes of India were also duly informed of the occasion, in order that Chandramithi, the beautiful daughter of the ruler of Canouj, might from among the princely suitors select one as her husband. On the appointed day all the kings as well as Harischandra arrived at the beautiful town of Cannamapuri (the capital of Canouj), the streets of which were decked with flowers and ever- greens for the occasion. The Rajahs assembled in the durbar hall, and the beautiful Chandra- mithi in befitting attire arrived there with her maids. The maids then took her to each prince, giving out his name, the country he ruled, what he was famous for, and so on. When Chandramithi approached Harischandra, she was struck with his beauty and manly ap- pearance, and having already heard a good deal about him, immediately selected him as her husband and threw the flower garland round his neck. Immediately in that great assembly an unknown voice was heard which said : " Harischandra ! it is willed by God that you should be the husband of the beautiful Chan- dramithi." The marriage ceremonies were duly performed, and some time afterwards Harischandra left for Oudh with his bride. Soon they were blest with a child, and for some time lived happily together.
One day in the audience chamber of Indra, the king of the gods, when there were present thirty-three crores of gods and forty-eight thousand rishis, the question arose as to whether there could be found in the nether world at least one truthful and honest man. To this the rishi Vathistha answered that Harischandra the ruler of Oudh was truthful and honest, and that the like of him could nowhere else be found. The rishi Viswamitra objected, and said that Harischandra was not as Vathishta had described him. A hot discussion ensued, and it was decided that if Harischandra could be proved to be a liar, the rishi Vathishta should forego all the merit he had acquired by his religious austerity ; and that if Harischandra proved to be a really truthful and honest person, the rishi Viswamitra should present the king with one half of the merit which he had acquired by the penance which he had performed.
Viswamitra then left the Indra Sabha and at once sent a few of his followers to the king to request him for some money toward the due performance of some religious rites. Harischandra willingly promised to pay whatever money was required. The money was ready, but Viswamitra entrusted it to the king, saying that he would take it on a future occasion. Soon after, the rishi sent two beautiful girls to the king, directing them to dance and sing before him. They went, and in the presence of the king vied with each other in exhibiting their skill in dancing and singing. The king was highly pleased, and asked if they had any request to make. They replied that they wished to marry him. The prince grew angry; and said that their request was an improper one. They however, persisted, and said that he must marry them. The king thereupon ordered his peons to remove the girls from his presence. The girls returned and informed Viswamitra of what had taken place, and the rishi, greatly enraged at the treatment which the girls received at the hands of the king, immediately went to him and asked him to marry the girls. The prince replied: “My lord! I will do anything for you, but I will not marry those girls.” “You will do anything for me?” said Viswamitra. “Undoubtedly, my lord,” replied the prince. “Then give me your riches, your country, and all that you possess,” asked the rishi. The king at once gave these and also the jewels which he, his wife, and his son were then wearing, and so in a short time became a beggar. He requested the rishi to permit him to depart from his country. Per- mission was given and the king went away. The rishi suddenly called the king back and reminded him of the promise which he had made in regard to the sum of money required for the due performance of certain religious rites. Harischandra said : " My lord ! you know my present position. You have taken away even my clothes, and I am now a beggar. However, if you insist upon my paying the money, I beg you will allow me forty days' time." Viswamitra consented to this, and ac- cordingly sent with the prince one of his men to receive the money at the end of the forty days, taking care at the same time to advise his man to receive his wages from the king for remaining with him for forty days. Haris- chandra, with his wife, his son, and a few of his faithful followers, left Oudh amidst the tears of his people, and at the end of twenty days, after much toil and many difficulties reached Benares. There the king sold his wife and son to a Brahmin for the money due to Viswamitra, and executed to him what is called a murisittu (slavery agreement); and that he might be able to pay the wages due to Viswamitra’s man, he went and sold himself to the pariah who kept watch over the burning- ground. Thenceforward Harischandra became the servant of the pariah and received for each corpse brought to the burning-ground half a fanam (one penny), one cubit (half a yard) of new cloth and a handful of rice. He gave the penny and the new cloth to his pariah master, and reserved to himself the handful of rice which he cooked with his own hands and ate.
Thus was the ruler of Oudh reduced to the position of a burning-ground watchman with a pariah for his master, and his queen to that of a servant woman in the house of a Brahmin. One day while things were in this condition, their only son went with some other youngsters of the town to the fields to fetch some durba grass. While the young man was plucking the grass in the fields, he was bitten by a cobra and fell down dead. The youngsters returned home and related the sad story to poor Chan- dramithi. She, in the midst of her sorrow for the death of her beloved boy, performed her daily work, and in the evening took leave of her mistress in order that she might go and burn her son’s corpse. It was now getting dark; but she fearlessly went in search of the child, found the dead body, and took it to the burning-ground, with some fuel which she had collected with her own hands. Harischandra, who was watching the burning-ground, finding that some one was secretly disposing of a dead body, came near and asked the woman to give the usual penny, cloth, and rice. She said she was too poor to give these. Harischandra would not allow the corpse to be burnt. He said he would for her sake forego the handful of rice, but not the penny nor the cloth which should go to his master. He knew that it was the dead body of his son, and yet he was de- termined to serve his master honestly. Ac- cordingly he insisted on his wife’s paying the money and the cloth. The woman left the dead body and went away, promising to return with the money and the cloth from her master. The night was now far advanced.
It so happened that on that very night some robbers had entered the house of the Maharajah of Benares, and taken the child that was sleeping in the cradle, and after stripping it of all its valuable jewels, had killed it and thrown its dead body on the street. Chandramithi seeing the dead body, began to weep, for the child was like her own. Then came the king’s servants in search of the child, and finding it in the hands of the woman, at once took her before the king, who, convinced that she had murdered his child, ordered Chandramithi to be beheaded. The executioner, who was none other than Harischandra’s master, delegated that work to his servant, and he, regardless of the fact that the unfortunate victim was his own wife, tied her hands, and with his sword in his hand led her to the place of execution amid the tears of the people of Benares.
While Harischandra was thinking of his miserable condition, Viswamitra came on the scene and said: “O Harischandra, you have lost your dominions, your wealth, your dignity, and your only beloved son; and now with your own hand your are going to put an end to the life of your dear wife. Now, do but tell a lie and I will restore to you your lost dominions, your riches, and your former dignity. I will bring your son to life and restore him to you, and I will also see your wife’s innocence declared.” The king bravely replied : “ My lord ! it is written that to kill a thousand cows is as sinful as to kill one child ; to kill a thousand children is as sinful as taking the life of a weak and helpless woman ; and to kill a thousand women is as heinous as the crime of slaying a Brahmin ; but to tell a lie is worse than killing a thousand Brahmins. Do you wish me, my lord, to commit such a great sin ? I have lost my country, my wealth, my dignity, my only beloved son, and now with my own hand I am about to put an end to the life of my dear wife, all for the sake of truth. I will not tell a lie, even at the risk of my own life.” The rishi Viswamitra went away ashamed. The king now thought of his miserable condition and shed tears at the thought of losing his wife. The brave Chandramithi encouraged him and said : “ Do not, my dear husband, be afraid to slay me. The cause of truth and virtue is more valuable that my life. Do not delay, but slay me at once.” Then Harischandra, in firm tones and with his sword in his hand, said to his wife : “ If it is true that there is one God, if it is true that throughout my whole career in this world I have walked in the path of truth and virtue, and if it is true also that this my wife is chaste and virtuous, then let my wife’s head be severed from her body at one stroke." So saying he drew his sword, and immediately there was seen a garland of flowers on the neck of the beautiful Chandramithi. Indra and all the rishis, Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva came there, praised the king for his truth, showered their blessings on him, restored him to his former position, and brought back to life his dead son and the child of the ruler of Benares. The king with his wife and son returned to Oudh and ruled the country for many years.
The story of Harischandra which I have thus related is the most popular story in India, and is written in almost all the languages of the country. The name Harischandra is synony- mous with truth and virtue.
I should state that the whole of the story was not acted on the occasion on which I was present. It was divided into six parts, the last of which was performed on that occasion. As I have already stated, there were present some thousands of people, so that the crowd covered three or four acres of ground on which the people squatted. There was no charge for seeing the performance. The richest land- holder, the high-caste Brahmin and the meanest pariah were there. The respectable portion of the audience was seated near the actors. There was no enclosure, no stage; there were no screens; a white cloth served this purpose. The play commenced about ten o’clock. The white cloth was removed and the characters appeared on the scene, with painted faces and gaudy jewels and dresses. A little of the story was acted, and then a great many things unconnected with the play were witnessed. Witty remarks were made, and songs were sung. The buffoon now and then related amusing stories. The granting of rewards also formed part of the programme. Every respect- able villager called the buffoon and placed some money in his hands. The buffoon immediately repaired to his place, and called out in a loud voice the name of the person who gave the reward, his village and all concerning him, and in conclusion said that a rich reward was given. The reward in many cases was no more than two annas (threepence). This went on for some time, and then part of the play was given. Stories unconnected with the play were again related, songs were again sung, and presents were again given, many of them being old clothes. In this way things went on till six in the morning, by which time the play was ended and the people had dispersed to their homes.
From what I have said it will be seen that the arrangements made by the villagers when- ever they get up a theatrical performance are very simple and cost little or no money ; but the sense of enjoyment is none the less keen. Throughout the whole proceedings I carefully noted how the simple villagers appreciated the play. They seemed to enter thoroughly into the spirit of the story, and I heard one of them use very strong language with regard to the rishi Viswamitra. I saw women shedding tears and saying : " Viswamitra is a Chandala. He is a sinner. No doubt he will be punished for his mean actions and sent to the worst part of hell." One woman was actually heard to exclaim : " Is there no God above to punish the wretch Viswamitra? Is there no lightning to descend at once and kill him on the spot?
Will not mother earth open at once and devour his detested body ?''
Indian actors are not much respected in society. Their remuneration is small—so small that a whole troupe may receive no more than seven shillings a night, and altogether the profession is considered a low one in this country.
Notes
¹ Svayamvara (literally, self-choice)—the election of a hus- band by a princess or a daughter of a Kshatriya at a public assembly of suitors for the purpose.—Monier Williams.