Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? May I not wash in them and be clean?"
The D[)u]sh[)u]h[)u]ra festival is held in commemoration of Gunga's descent on earth. Crowds of people assemble from the different towns and villages near the river, especially at the most sacred places, bringing their offerings of fruit, rice, flowers, fresh garlands, cloth, sweetmeats, &c. "O goddess! the owl that lodges in the hollow of a tree on thy banks is exalted beyond measure; while the emperor, whose palace is far from thee, though he may possess a million of stately elephants, and may have the wives of millions of conquered enemies to serve him, is nothing."
The next object is a pair of small cymbals, which are sounded by the priest in time to his chanted prayer.
Beyond them is a large highly-ornamented circular brass dish, containing a peealu or brass drinking cup, in which is either oil or holy water: this cup has figures carved upon it. By its side is a small brass plate, filled with rice, which the devotee takes up in the spoon, and puts upon the head of the idol. Various sacred flowers are also carried in the circular dish, to strew over and before the god. In the early morning you often see the Hindoos, both men and women, going to a shrine with a circular brass dish of this description similarly filled.
The next figure is H[)u]noomān, the monkey god, carrying Ram and Seeta on his shoulders in commemoration of his bringing them in safety from Ceylon.—See p. 110.
Beyond this figure is a conch shell and another bull-mouthed shell; and thus ends the description of the shrine of G[)u]nésh[)u] in the frontispiece.
In front of my cabinet stands a very large Brahmanical bull, by name Chamēlee, carved in white marble, painted and gilt. A curious Persian writing has just been offered to the Nandī (the bull), which Chamēlee has been graciously pleased to accept and add to the cabinet over which he presides.
The image of the sacred bull in black or white marble is worshipped in the temples of the Hindoos.
