Indian Antiquary Vol 51

Author(s): Richard Carnac Temple, Devadatta Ramkrishna Bhandarkar
Publisher: Swati Publications

Page 350

40
THE INDIAN ANTIQUARY
(FERUARY, 1922
And Sehti said: "Listen, sisters, to what he says. He is a Jat and no Jogi. He is a liar and a lewd fellow, wheedling his shameless fat paunch into this village. He is noway. farer and stranger, for he knows Hir's name and then immediately says he never heard it. He wit get his beggar's bowl and his beaded necklaces broken and his hair pulled, if he comes near me. Who will save him from my wrath ? He is not a headman of the village. He is a wandering minstrel, or a leather worker, or a sweeper of some serai.”
The Jogi replied: "You miserable hussy, you squat snubnosed village flirt, you loincloth of Satan, beware. If a Jatti (Jat woman) quarrels with a Fakir, her lot will be one of hardship and sorrow."
The women of the village hearing the noise of voices and bickering, said to Sehti: "Why do you quarrel with the Jogi! He sings as sweetly as Jan Sen, and he knows songs by sixties and hundreds; he spends all his time singing songs and wearing charms. It is not meet to quarrel with such folk."
And Sekti replied: "It is only fat-bellied rascals that live by begging. He is obstinate and as unbending as a beam in the roof. He is as sour as an unripe sugar-cane. His lips utter pious words but his heart is set on his beloved. When he sees Hir he sighs and his eyes melt with Love.” And Sehti turned to the Jogi and said: “You quarrel monger, you have spoilt your ears. I will spoil the rest of you. If you sing your Jogi songs I'll make the Jats sing ribald songs about you. I'll send for a couple more young rascals like you and order them to thrash you. I'll make you dance round our courtyard like a juggler's bear. I will tear open the fresh wounds of your heart and in the day of Judgment I will get redress from your taunts ".
And the Jogi replied: "Verily you are the mother of wisdom and the grandmother of understanding. Your wit has cancelled the decrees of Fate and your words are as mysterious as an Arabic verb. Surely there is no country like Kashmir, no lustre like that of the moon, nought so sweet as the sound of a distant drum, nothing so terrifying as the earthquake in the day of Judgment and..... There is nothing so quarrelsome as Sehti. Aye, there is nothing so bitter as anger and there is nothing so sweet as the kisses from the lips of the beloved. There is no book like the Koran and no silence like that of death. There are none so fortunate as the Kheras, no one so full of sin as the Poet Waris and there is no spell like that of his poetry."
And Sehti replied: "Why quarrel with women and bandy words with small girls? What are the things that can never keep still? Water, wayfarer's dogs, lads given to debauchery and Fakirs. You are no Jogi. Tell us from where came Jog. From whence came Shinas and Bairag? From whence came the beggar's horn and beggar's bowl and the praying beads ? Who gave you the commandment to wear long hairs? Who ordered you to smear your bodies with dust and ashes?"
The Jogi replied: “Solomon is the Pir of Jinns and evil spirits. Self-interest is the Pir of all Jate and Love is the Pir of all lovers. Listen, Sehti, and I will tell you the way of Jog. We Fakirs are like black snakes and we acquire power and virtue by reading spells. We get up at midnight and pore over sacred books by the banks of untrodden streams. We expel all impurities from our speech by using the toothbrush of repentance and we sit on the carpet of true belief. We become deaf and dumb by holding our breath in the tenth position. We can ward off deceit and burn evil spirits. We can cast spells and destroy those whom we want to destroy. We can make absent lovers smell the fragrance of their beloved's presence. Women who revile us we can make ride in penance on an ass with a shaved head, Let virgins beware who oppose our power or it will fare ill with their virginity,"