Evening star., 1937-01-10
CONTINUED From Third Page.)

in-patients and an average OF double
that number of out-patients.
In this part Of the world the In
heritance passes in the female line,
to the eldest daughter of the eldest
sister, except in the case Of the Maha-
rajah, who must always be man, IN
order to lead his army. Otherwise
matriarchy prevails. Husbands are
harmless, necessary ornaments of
the family. They accept the role
gracefully, for their responsibilities
are few and their opportunities for
pleasure are many in this enchanted
land.
Visit to Palace.
I had the privilege of meeting their
highnesses of Travancore, the Maha-
rajah and his mother. I went to the
palace, according to custom, in dark
suit, with stiff collar. They received
me in white robes, barefooted, in a
European drawing room. From our
surroundings we might have been In
London. The Maharajah talked of
the recent reform act and of tennis.
Her highneSs Is one of the leaders in
the emancipation of women; she had
much to say of similar movements
in the West, of Mrs. Sanger, of Mr..
Gandhi, of all the problems of the
day. While she talked her we'll
tended toes drummed on the parquet
Travancore state is prosperous, con-
tented, better educated than any
Other part of India. The public Ii
brary in Trivandrum contains 10000
volumes. Everywhere there are signs
of modern progress, but the Brahmin
priesthood still holds sway; according
to them the true ruler of the country
is Padmanabhaswami, "the lotus
naveled god," who is an aspect of silva.
The Maharajah, as his earthly regent,
pays him homage once year, sweep
ing the purlieus of his temple clad in
nothing but a white loin-cloth.
From Travancore to Swat is 1000
miles. When passed through Mala-
kand, 80 miles northeast of the
frontier city of Peshawar, thought
that I was going into the wilds Of
Central Asia. But another surprise
awaited me: found, at the Vail Of
Swat's capital of Saidu Sharif, beau-
tiful European house, with marble
bath rooms, radios, telephones =.
Just how surprising marble bath
room can be in Swat it is difficult to
convey to the home-abiding reader;
we are so accustomed to modern con-
lont 20 10
granted. But after travelling thou
sands of miles and meeting nothing
but tubs with kerosene tin of hot
water by their side, it is glorious to
stretch ones limbs, turn taps, use a
shower. Except perhaps for one or
two houses in Peshawar, there is no
such plumbing as that of Saidu Sharif
within radius of a thousand miles.
Meets Vail of Swat.
The Vail of Swat is a keen-eyed,
ruddy-cheeked man of 60, who fought
his way to his throne against great
difficulties. Although he can neither
read nor write, he flies regularly, is
q good architect, has had his king
dom thoroughly surveyed, has built
hundreds of miles of roads and has
installed an excellent telephone sys-
tenn. When I first met him he was
in a powerful touring car, accom-
panied by six rif1emen.
Yet another contrast awaited me
on leaving this smiling valley with its
vivid ruler, for I went straight from
there to the most contemplative city
in the world, Rishikesh, where the
sacred River Ganges flows out of the
Himalayas.
A quarter of million people pass
through Rshikesh every year, on their
way to the sources of the Ganges and
Jumna. A thousand holy men live in
the city itself, or in reed huts along
the banks of the river.
Here are mahatmas who sit naked
through the depths of Himalayan
Winter, melting the snow round them
by some unknown power by which they
generate warmth; here are Yogis who
have been immured like corpses in
a coffin for periods of month and
longer, and here are some of the most
renowned philosophers in India. (Here
also are some of the biggest raScalS
unhung, for murderer sometimes
assumes the robes of an ascetic and
goes on pilgrimage to escape the
vigilance of the police.)
Time Stands Still.
Time has stood still in Rishikesh
and the outside world is practically
non-existent. Life consists of plain
living and high thinking carried to
extremes from European point of
view.
Visited many sages in the encamp-
ment by the river. One of them, the
Singing Swami, wanders all over the
north Of India with flute and song
book, then retires to cave and medi-
tates in complete solitude for six
months or more. Another sage I
found to be writing a treatise on the
human brain, in the intervals of milk
ing cows and ploughing fields; he be-
lieves every one, especially those en-
gagged in intellectual labor, should do
some hard physical work each day.
Yet another ascetic had beeh
bricked-up for nine days in a cave
without food or water, in the trance
like state of ecstasy known as samadhi.
According to well-attested reports, all