Marriage Ceremonies. 381
requisition. Players on trumpets, horns, pipes, and drums
are eagerly sought for, and every performer seems intent on
overpowering the sounds produced by his fellow-performers,
as if his musical reputation depended on his being heard
above the general din.
In the higher circles of Indian society the wedding enter-
tainments, often repeated for several days, are on a magnificent
scale, and when Europeans are invited every kind of expensive
luxury is provided for them.
Soon after my arrival at Bombay in 1875 I was invited to
be present at the wedding of Sir Marigaldas Nathoobhai's
two sons. The festivities and religious ceremonies lasted for
eight days, and were on a scale of unusual magnificence.
Such a wedding is rarely witnessed even in India. The
residence of Sir Mangaldas—called Girgaum House—is a
magnificent mansion in the middle of a large garden. When
we arrived at eight o'clock in the evening of the first day of
the ceremonies, both house and garden were brilliantly illu-
minated—all the trees festooned with Chinese lanterns, all
the lines of the architecture sparkling with light, and every
bed and fountain in the garden encircled with thousands of
coloured lamps. A splendid drawing-room blazing with light
was thronged with native gentlemen and Rajas, most of whom
sat round in a double row, intently gazing at the movements
and listening to the songs of two jewel - bedecked Nach
girls. These girls wore bright-coloured silk trousers and
were decorously enveloped in voluminous folds of drapery.
They did not really dance, but merely sang in a mono-
tonous minor key with continuous trills and turns of the
voice, while they waved their arms gracefully to and fro,
occasionally lifting one hand to the ear, and frequently ad-
vancing a few steps up the room and then retiring again,
closely followed from behind by two or three musicians who
played accompaniments on instruments called SarangI and
Tabla (tom-toms). The loves, quarrels, and reconciliations
requisition. Players on trumpets, horns, pipes, and drums
are eagerly sought for, and every performer seems intent on
overpowering the sounds produced by his fellow-performers,
as if his musical reputation depended on his being heard
above the general din.
In the higher circles of Indian society the wedding enter-
tainments, often repeated for several days, are on a magnificent
scale, and when Europeans are invited every kind of expensive
luxury is provided for them.
Soon after my arrival at Bombay in 1875 I was invited to
be present at the wedding of Sir Marigaldas Nathoobhai's
two sons. The festivities and religious ceremonies lasted for
eight days, and were on a scale of unusual magnificence.
Such a wedding is rarely witnessed even in India. The
residence of Sir Mangaldas—called Girgaum House—is a
magnificent mansion in the middle of a large garden. When
we arrived at eight o'clock in the evening of the first day of
the ceremonies, both house and garden were brilliantly illu-
minated—all the trees festooned with Chinese lanterns, all
the lines of the architecture sparkling with light, and every
bed and fountain in the garden encircled with thousands of
coloured lamps. A splendid drawing-room blazing with light
was thronged with native gentlemen and Rajas, most of whom
sat round in a double row, intently gazing at the movements
and listening to the songs of two jewel - bedecked Nach
girls. These girls wore bright-coloured silk trousers and
were decorously enveloped in voluminous folds of drapery.
They did not really dance, but merely sang in a mono-
tonous minor key with continuous trills and turns of the
voice, while they waved their arms gracefully to and fro,
occasionally lifting one hand to the ear, and frequently ad-
vancing a few steps up the room and then retiring again,
closely followed from behind by two or three musicians who
played accompaniments on instruments called SarangI and
Tabla (tom-toms). The loves, quarrels, and reconciliations