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APRIL, 1874.]
NOTES FROM THE NORTH-WEST.
NOTES FROM THE NORTH-WEST. BY W. RAMSAY, Bo. C.S., BHARUCH.
To one whose acquaintance with India is limited to a sojourn in a Presidency town, varied only by an occasional excursion or picnic some few miles into the interior, the Mufassal is virtually an unknown land. To an almost equal degree it may be said that to one whose career has confined him to the southern latitudes, the countries lying to the north of the Vindhyan range, and those constituting Hindustân proper as recognized by the natives themselves, are as a strange land, presenting strange faces and features, a new dialect, a different garb, almost another life; social customs and religious observances forming the common link uniting the North to the South. From a Enropean point of view the contrast is perhaps the greatest: to wear of necessity warm clothing all day, and outer wraps morning and evening; to sit over a fire at noon, and find it a luxury; to forget the reality of a tropical sun; and to look upon cold as the only enemy to be resisted,-what a change is here! To the chance tourist from England the first impression is that all Anglo-Indians have been in a league to depreciate the country, and delude the world at home into a false belief of the terrors of an Indian sun. But if he should be seduced by appearances into prolonging his stay among the many attractive spots of Upper India, beyond the short term of an Indian winter, retribution sharp and sudden will fall on his head, such as is not even imagined in the then more favoured regions of the south:-the blasts as of a furnace enduring all day, and perhaps all night; an atmosphere to which the air of a London brickfield would be as balm in comparison; and a forcible detention within doors, save perhaps from four to seven A.M. I may say, slightly altering the words of the poet,
"Indicos odi, puer, apparatus."
But, in plain English, the climate of the N. W. P. from April to September must be experienced to be realized.
The various places of interest in the NorthWest are so much associated with the history of India in all times, and so much has been written on the subject, that it would seem presumption to add aught to what has been
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previously contributed by abler pens; but a few particulars of the more striking scenes and objects, as viewed for the first time, may not be wholly devoid of interest to the casual reader.
race.
Who has not heard of B a når a s, the holy city of the Hindu, the centre of his thoughts and his aspirations, which he hopes to visit some time during his life, and, may be, honour with his ashes and other reliquise after death? and viewed in this light the place cannot but be visited with interest by any thoughtful observer. To the mere antiquarian, the place itself is somewhat devoid of interest, as modern Banaras may be said to date only froma period subsequent to the time of Aurangzîb, who destroyed all the older temples and built mosques out of the materials. The only real piece of antiquity is the old Buddhist tower of Sârnâ t h, situate some miles from Banâras, and said to be on the very spot where the great Sakya-Muni resided and devoted some years to the excogitation of that strange system of philosophy which revolutionized the world of his time, and has left its stamp to this day upon millions of the human The authority for this belief is of course wanting, but who in gazing on that old tower but would strive for the moment to divest himself of the stern trammels of positivism, and. try and behold as in a dream the sage sitting deep in thought above and apart from this mortal world. But apart from antiquarianism Banaras presents a strange and engrossing appearance to the eye. The sacred river winding slowly along miles of sacred ghâts and temples and groves thronged with priests and pilgrims, with the dying and the dead; the hordes of mendicants ostentatiously displaying their filth or their ailments; the gaunt and lofty stone houses separated only by flagged causeways perhaps not a yard in width, and nowhere continning in one straight line for even twenty yards; the incessant clamour of voices and ringing of bells from the 1500 temples and shrines which the city is said to contain; the sacred bulls wandering about, fully conscious of their privileges; and, in strange contrast, the multitudes of incessant chattering monkeys appealing to the piety and benevolence
