Castes and Tribes of Southern India. Vol. 7 of 7

Castes and Tribes of Southern India

Castes and Tribes
of
Southern India

By
Edgar Thurston, C.I.E.,
Superintendent, Madras Government Museum; Correspondant Étranger, Société d’Anthropologie de Paris; Socio Corrispondante, Societa, Romana di Anthropologia.
Assisted by K. Rangachari, M.A.,
of the Madras Government Museum.

Volume VII—T to Z
Government Press, Madras
1909.

List of Illustrations.

Castes and Tribes of Southern India.

Volume VII.

T

Tābēlu (tortoise).—A sept of Aiyarakulu, and section of Gāzula Kāpu and Koppala Velama.

Taccha Kurup.—Barbers who shave Malabar Kammālans.

Tacchan.—The name of the carpenter sub-division of Kammālans, and further returned, at the census, 1891, as an occupational sub-division by some Paraiyans. Taccha Karaiyān has been recorded as a name for some members of the Karaiyān fishing caste. The Tacchasāstram, or science of carpentry, prescribes in minute details the rules of construction.

Tacchanādan Mūppan.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Reports, 1891 and 1901, as a sub-division of Kuricchans, and of Kurumbas of the Nīlgiris.

Tādan.—See Dāsari.

Tagara.—A section of Poroja.

Takru.—A class of Muhammadan pilots and sailors in the Laccadive islands. (See Māppilla.)

Talaivan (a chief).—A title of the Maravans. Jādi or Jāti Talaivan is the name of the hereditary chief of the Paravas of Tinnevelly, who, at times of pearl fisheries, receives a fixed share of the ‘oysters.’

Talamala.—A sub-division of Kānikar.

Talayāri.—The Talayāri (talai, head) or chief watchman, or Uddāri (saviour of the village), is a kind of undepartmental village policeman, who is generally known as the Talāri. Among other duties, he has to follow on the track of stolen cattle, to act as a guard over persons confined in the village choultry (lock-up), to attend upon the head of the village during the trial of petty cases, to serve processes, and distrain goods. In big villages there are two or three Talayāris, in which case one is a Paraiyan, who officiates in the Paraiya quarter. In parts of the Telugu country, the Mutrāchas, who are the village watchmen, are known as Talārivallu, or watchman people, and, in like manner, the Bēdars are called Talārivāndlu in the Kurnool and Bellary districts.

It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district (1906), that “from the earliest years of the British occupation of the country, fees were paid to the talaiyāri or village watchman. He was probably survival of a state of society in which kāvalgars did not exist, and his duties were, it seems, to look after the villagers’ fields and threshing floors. At any rate, he continued in existence even after the abolition of the kāval system (see Maravan), and was declared by the early Police Regulation (XI of 1816) to be part of the regular police establishment. Practically he did little real police duty, and in 1860, when the mufassal police was reorganised, all claims to the services of the talaiyāri as a servant of the State were formally abandoned, the Inspector-General of Police having reported that any attempt to utilise the talaiyāri body would be fruitless and unpopular. Talaiyāris still continue to be employed and paid by the ryots (cultivators) as the private guardians of their crops and harvested grain. Recently, however, the district was brought into line with the rest of the Presidency by the creation of a new force of talaiyāris, who now perform the police duties assigned to such persons elsewhere. They are provided with lathis (sticks) and badges, and are a useful auxiliary to the police.”

Tāli.—“The tāli,” Bishop Caldwell writes,[1] “is the Hindu sign of marriage, answering to the ring of European christendom. I have known a clergyman refuse to perform a marriage with a tāli, and insist upon a ring being used instead. A little consideration will show that the scrupulous conscience can find no rest for itself even in the ring; for, if the ring is more Christian than the tāli, it is only because its use among Christians is more ancient. Every one knows that the ring has a Pagan origin, and that, for this reason, it is rejected by Quakers.” “The custom,” Wagner informs us,[2] “of wearing the wedding ring on the fourth finger of the left hand had unquestionably a Pagan origin. Both the Greeks and the Romans called the fourth left-hand finger the medicated finger, and used it to stir up mixtures and potions, out of the belief that it contained a vein, which communicated directly with the heart, and therefore nothing noxious could come in contact with it, without giving instant warning to that vital organ.”

The marriage badge, as it occurs in Southern India, is, broadly speaking, of two types. The one in use among the Tamil castes is oblong in shape, with a single or double indentation at the base, and rounded at the top. The corresponding bottu or sathamanam of the Telugu and Canarese castes is a flat or cup-shaped disc. The tāli in use among various Malayālam castes at the tāli-kettu ceremony is a long cylinder.

Tāli-kettu kalyānam (tāli-tying marriage).—A ceremony gone through by Nāyar girls, and girls of some other Malayālam castes, in childhood. Of those who gave evidence before the Malabar Marriage Commission, some thought the tāli-kettu was a marriage, some not. Others called it a mock marriage, a formal marriage, a sham marriage, fictitious marriage, a marriage sacrament, the preliminary part of marriage, a meaningless ceremony, an empty form, a ridiculous farce, an incongruous custom, a waste of money, and a device for becoming involved in debt. “While,” the Report states, “a small minority of strict conservatives still maintain that the tāli-kettu is a real marriage intended to confer on the bridegroom a right to cohabit with the bride, an immense majority describe it as a fictitious marriage, the origin of which they are at a loss to explain. And another large section tender the explanation accepted by our President (Sir T. Muttusami Aiyar), that in some way or other it is an essential caste observance preliminary to the formation of sexual relations.” In summing up the evidence collected by him, Mr. Lewis Moore states[3] that it seems to be proved beyond all reasonable doubt that “from the sixteenth century at all events, and up to the early portion of the nineteenth century, the relations between the sexes in families governed by marumakkathāyam (inheritance in the female line) were of as loose a description as it is possible to imagine. The tāli-kettu kalyānam, brought about by the Brāhmans, brought about no improvement, and indeed, in all probability, made matters much worse by giving a quasi-religious sanction to a fictitious marriage, which bears an unpleasant resemblance to the sham marriage ceremonies performed among certain inferior castes elsewhere as a cloak for prostitution (see Dēva-dāsi). As years passed, some time about the opening of the nineteenth century, the Kērala mahatmyam and Kēralolpathi were concocted, probably by Nambūdris, and false and pernicious doctrines as to the obligations laid on the Nāyars by divine law to administer to the lust of the Nambūdris were disseminated abroad. The better classes among the Nāyars revolted against the degrading system thus established, and a custom sprang up, especially in North Malabar, of making sambandham a more or less formal contract, approved and sanctioned by the Karnavan (senior male) of the tarwad[4] to which the lady belonged, and celebrated with elaborate ceremony under the pudamuri (female cloth cutting) form. That there was nothing analogous to the pudamuri prevalent in Malabar from A.D. 1500 to 1800 may, I think, be fairly presumed from the absence of all allusion to it in the works of the various European writers.” According to Act IV, Madras, 1896, sambandham means an alliance between a man and woman, by reason of which they, in accordance with the custom of the community to which they belong, or either of them belongs, cohabit or intend to cohabit as husband and wife.

Tambala.—The Tambalas are summed up, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “Telugu-speaking temple priests. Their social position differs in different localities. They are regarded as Brahmans in Godāvari, Kistna and Nellore, and as Sūdras in the other Telugu districts.” It is noted, in the Census Report, that the Tambalas are described by C. P. Brown as a class of beggars, who worship Siva, and who beat drums; secular priests, etc. These men are generally Sūdras, but wear the sacred thread. “It is said that, during his peregrinations in the north, Sankarāchārya appointed Tamil Brāhmans to perform temple services in all the Saiva shrines. Hence the Telugu people, in the midst of whom the Tamilians lived, called them the Tambalas (Tamils). They are not now, however, regarded as Brāhmans, whatever their original position may have been. They will eat only with Brāhmans. Most of them are Saivites, and a few are Lingayats. The Smarta Brāhmans officiate as their priests at birth, marriage, and death ceremonies. They do not eat animal food, and all their religious rites are more or less like those of Brāhmans. Their usual titles are Aiya and Appa.”

Tambān.—One of the divisions of Kshatriyas in Travancore. (See Tirumalpād.)

Tambi (younger brother).—A term of affection in the Tamil country, used especially when a younger person is being addressed. It is also recorded as an honorific title of Nāyars in Travancore, and a suffix to the names of Nāyar sons of Travancore sovereigns.

Tambirān.—The name for Pandāram managers of temples, e.g., at Tiruvādudurai in Tanjore and Mailam in South Arcot.

Tamburān.—For the following note on the Rājahs or Tamburāns, I am indebted to the Travancore Census Report, 1901. “They form an endogamous community of Kshatriyas, and live as seven families in Travancore. They are distinguished by the localities in which they reside, viz., Mavelikkara, Ennaikkāt, Kartikapalli, Mariappalli, Tiruvalla, Prāikkara, and Aranmula. They are all related by blood, the connection between some of them being very close. Like the Kōiltampurāns, all the members of their community observe birth and death pollution with reference to each other. Their original home is Kōlattunāt in North Malabar, and their immigration into Travancore, where the reigning family is of the Kōlattunāt stock, was contemporaneous, in the main, with the invasion of Malabar by Tippu Sultan. The first family that came into the country from Kōlattunāt was the Putuppalli Kōvilakam in the 5th century M.E. (Malabar era). The Travancore royal family then stood in need of adoption. The then Rājah arranged through a Koiltampurān of Tattārikkōvilakam to bring from Kōlattunāt two princesses for adoption, as his negotiations with the then Kōlattiri were fruitless. The Puttuppali Kōvilakam members thus settled themselves at Kartikapalli, the last of whom died in 1030 M.E. The next family that migrated was Cheriyakōvilakam, between 920 and 930 M.E. They also came for adoption. But their right was disputed by another house, Pallikkōvilakam. They then settled themselves at Aranmula. The third series of migrations were during the invasion of Malabar by Tippu in 964 M.E. All the Rājahs living there at the time came over to Travancore, of whom, however, many returned home after a time.

The Rājahs, like the Kōiltampurāns, belong to the Yajurvēda section of Dvijas, but follow the sūtra laid down by Baudhāyana. Their gōtra is that of Bhargava, i.e., Parasurāma, indicating in a manner that these are Kshatriyas who were accepted by Parasurāma, the uncompromising Brahmin of the Hindu Purānas. They have all the Brahminical Samskāras, only the Brahmin priest does most of them on their behalf. Chaulam, or tuft ceremony, is performed along with Upanāyanam. The Samāvartanam, or termination of the pupil stage, is celebrated on the fourth day of the thread investiture. Instruction in arms is then given to the Kshatriya boy, and is supposed to be kept up until the requisite skill has been obtained. The tāli-tying (mangalya dhāranam or pallikkettu of a Rāja lady) is done by a Kōiltampurān, who thereafter lives with her as her married husband. The Kanyakādānam, or giving away of the bride, is performed by the priest who attends also to the other Sāstraic rites. The males take Sūdra consorts. If the first husband leaves by death or otherwise, another Kōiltampurān may be accepted. This is not called marriage, but kūttirikkuka (living together).

At Srādhas (memorial services), the Kartā, or performer of the ceremony, throws a flower as a mark of spiritual homage at the feet of the Brahmins who are invited to represent the manes, and greets them in the conventional form (namaskāra). The priest does the other ceremonies. After the invited Brahmins have been duly entertained, oblations of cooked rice are offered to the ancestors by the Kartā himself.

They are to repeat the Gāyatri ten times at each Sandhya prayer, together with the Panchākshara and the Ashtākshara mantras.

Their caste government is in the hands of the Nambūtiri Vaidikas. Their family priests belong to the class of Malayāla Pōttis, known as Tiruveli Pōttis.

Besides the ordinary names prevalent among Kōiltampurāns, names such as Martānda Varma, Āditya Varma, and Udaya Varma are also met with. Pet names, such as Kungāru, Kungappan, Kungōman, Kungunni, Unni and Ampu are common. In the Travancore Royal House, the first female member always takes the name of Lakshmi and the second that of Parvati.

Tāmoli.—A few members of this North India caste of betel-leaf sellers have been returned at times of census. I am unable to discover in what district they occur. Tāmbuli or Tāmuli is recorded as a caste of betel-leaf sellers in Bengal, and Tāmboli as a caste carrying on a similar occupation in the Bombay Presidency.

Tānamanādu.—A sub-division of Valaiyan.

Tanda.—The word literally refers to a settlement or encampment of the Lambādis, by some of whom it is, at times of census, returned as a tribal synonym.

Tandan.—It is recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1891, that “in Walluvanād and Pālghat (in Malabar) Tandan is a distinct caste. The ceremonies observed by Tandans are, in general outline, the same as those of the southern Tiyyans, but the two do not intermarry, each claiming superiority over the other. There is a custom which prohibits the Tandan females of Walluvanād from crossing a channel which separates that tāluk from Mankara on the Pālghat side.” The Tandans of Malabar are described by Mr. F. Fawcett as a people allied to the Izhuvans, who observe the custom of fraternal polyandry, which the Izhuvans abhor.

For the following note on the Tandans of Travancore, I am indebted to Mr. N. Subramani Aiyar.

The castemen are known as Urālis to the south of Varkallay, and Tandans to the north of it. In some places to the east of Kottarakaray, they were popularly termed Mutalpattukar, or those who receive the first perquisite for assistance rendered to carpenters. In the days when there were no saws, the rough instruments of the Tandan served their purpose. Hence some members of the caste were called Tacchan (carpenter). Tandan is derived from the Sanskrit dandanam or punishment, as, in ancient times, men of this caste were employed to carry out the punishments that were inflicted by the authorities upon offenders. For the execution of such punishments, the Tandans were provided with swords, choppers and knives. As they were also told off to guard the villages (ūr) of which they happened to be inhabitants, they acquired the title of Urāli. In some places, Tandans are also called Vēlans. Males and females have respectively the title Mūppan and Mūppatti, meaning an elder. In addressing members of higher castes, the Tandans call themselves Kuzhiyan, or dwellers in pits.

The Tandans are said to have once belonged to the same caste as the Izhuvans, but to have fallen away from that position. They must, in times gone by, have joined the military service of the various States in Malabar. They were, in some places, given rent-free lands, called Urāli parambu, in return for the duties they were expected to perform. With the return of peaceful times, their occupation changed, and the climbing of palm trees, to extract the juice thereof, became their most important calling. They are also largely engaged in the manufacture of ropes. Many families still receive the mutalpattu, or allowance from the carpenters.

The Tandans are divided into four endogamous sections, called Ilanji, Puvar, Irunelli, and Pilakkuti.

The ornaments of the women are, besides the minnu, wreaths of red and red and black beads. Nowadays the gold gnāttu of the Nāyars is also worn. Tattooing is popular. Even males have a crescent and a dot tattooed on the forehead, the corresponding mark in females being a line from the nasal pit upwards. Among the devices tattooed on the arms are the conch shell, lotus, snake, discus, etc. In their food and drink the Tandans resemble the Iluvans.

The priests of the Tandans are called Tanda Kuruppus, and they are also the caste barbers. The chief deity of the Tandans is Bhadrakāli, at whose shrines at Mandaikkad, Cranganore, and Sarkkaray, offerings are regularly made. At the last place, a Tandan is the priest. The chief days for the worship of this deity are Bharani asterism in March and Pattāmudayam in April. November is a particularly religious month, and the day on which the Kartikay star falls is exclusively devoted to worship. The first Sunday in January is another religious occasion, and on that day cooked food is offered to the rising sun. This is called Pogala. Maruta, or the spirit of smallpox, receives special worship. If a member of the caste dies of this disease, a small shed is erected in his memory either at his home or near the local Bhadrakāli shrine, and offerings of sweetmeats and toddy are made to him on the 28th of Makaram (January-February). Chitragupta, the accountant of Yama, the god of death, is worshipped on the full-moon day in April-May. Ancestor worship is performed on the new-moon day in July.

A girl’s tāli-tying ceremony, which is called kazhuttukettu, takes place when she is between seven and twelve years old. The bridegroom is a relative called Machchampi. The Kuruppu receives a money present of 2½ fanams for every tāli tied in his presence. Though more than one girl may go through the ceremony in the same pandal (booth), each should have a separate bridegroom. The relations between the bride and bridegroom are dissolved by the father of the former paying the latter sixteen rāsi fanams. The daughter of a man’s paternal aunt or maternal uncle may be claimed as murappen or lawful bride. The sambandham, or actual marriage, takes place after a girl has reached puberty. A family is regarded as out-caste, if she has not previously gone through the tāli-tying ceremony.

Only the eldest member of a family is cremated, the rest being buried. Death pollution lasts for ten days. The anniversary of a death is celebrated at the sea-shore, where cooked food, mixed with gingelly (Sesamum) is offered to the departed, and thrown into the sea.

Tandān.—The Tandān is the hereditary headman of a Tiyan tara (village), and is a Tiyan by caste. He is appointed by the senior Rāni of the Zamorin’s family, or by some local Rāja in territories outside the jurisdiction of the Zamorin. The Tandān is the principal person in the decision of caste disputes. He is expected to assist at the tāli-tying, puberty, marriage and pregnancy ceremonies of members of the caste. His formal permission is required before the carpenter can cut down the areca palm, with which the shed in which the tāli is tied is constructed. In cases of divorce, his functions are important. When a new house is built, a house-warming ceremony takes place, at which the Tandān officiates. Fowls are sacrificed, and the right leg is the Tandān’s perquisite. He is a man of importance, not only in many affairs within his own caste, but also in those of other castes. Thus, when a Nāyar dies, it is the Tandān’s duty to get the body burnt. He controls the washerman and barber of the tara, and can withdraw their services when they are most needed. He officiates, moreover, at marriages of the artisan classes.

Tangalān.—A sub-division of Paraiyan. The word indicates one who may not stand near, in reference to their belonging to the polluting classes.

Tangēdu.—Tangēdu or Tangēdla (Cassia auriculata) has been recorded as an exogamous sept of Kāpu and Padma Sālē. The bark of this shrub is one of the most valuable Indian tanning agents, and is, like myrabolams (Terminalia fruits), used in the manufacture of indigenous dyes.

Tantuvāyan (thread-wearer).—An occupational name used by various weaving castes.

Tapodhanlu.—The name, meaning those who believe in self-mortification as wealth, adopted by some Telugu mendicants.

Tārakan.—See Mūttan.

Tartharol.—The name, recorded by Dr. W. H. R. Rivers,[5] of a division of the Todas. Tartāl is also given by various writers as a division of this tribe.

Tarwād.—Defined by Mr. Wigram[6] as a marumakkathāyam family, consisting of all the descendants in the female line of one common female ancestor.

Tāssan.—A Malayālam synonym for the Telugu Dāsari.

Tattān.—The goldsmith section of the Tamil and Malayālam Kammālans.

Teivaliol.—The name, recorded by Dr. W. H. R. Rivers,[5] of a division of the Todas.

Telaga.—“The Telagas,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,[7] “are a Telugu caste of cultivators, who were formerly soldiers in the armies of the Hindu sovereigns of Telingana. This may perhaps account for the name, for it is easy to see that the Telugu soldiers might come to be regarded as the Telugus or Telagas par excellence. The sub-divisions returned under this name show that there has been some confusion between the Telagas proper, and persons who are members of other Telugu castes. The Telagas are Vaishnavites, and have Brāhmans for their priests. Their customs closely resemble those of the Kāpus. They eat flesh, but are not allowed to drink liquor. They are usually farmers now, but many still serve as soldiers, though their further recruitment has recently been stopped. Their common titles are Naidu and Dora.”

In a note on the Telagas and Vantaris (strong men), it is suggested that they should be classed with the Kāpus, of which caste they are an offshoot for the following reasons:—”(1) Members of the three classes admit that this is so; (2) a collation of the intipērulu or septs shows that the same names recur among the three classes; (3) all three interdine, and intermarriage between them is not rare. A poor Telaga or Vantari often gives his daughter in marriage to a rich Kāpu. The Telagas and Vantaris are highly Brāhmanised, and will have a Brāhman for their guru, and get themselves branded at his hands. A Kāpu is generally content with a Sātāni or Jangam. Though they do not differ in their marriage and funeral rites from the Kāpus, they usually marry their girls before puberty, and widow remarriage and divorce are disallowed. A Kāpu is invariably a cultivator; a Vantari was in olden days a sepoy, and, as such, owned inām (rent-free) lands. Even now he has a prejudice against ploughing jirāyati (ordinarily assessed) lands, which a Kāpu has no objection to do. Similarly, a Telaga takes pride in taking service under a Zamindar, but, unlike the Vantari, he will plough any land. Kāpu women will fetch their own water, and carry meals to the fields for their fathers and husbands. The women of the other classes affect the gōsha system, and the men carry their own food, and fetch water for domestic purposes, or, if well-to-do, employ Kāpus for these services. It may be added that rich Kāpus often exhibit a tendency to pass as Telagas.”

Tēlikula.—The Tēlikulas are summed up, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “a Telugu oil-presser caste, which should not be confused with Tellakula, a synonym for Tsākala, or with Telli, a caste of Oriya oil-pressers.” Telikula is a synonym for the Gāniga or Gāndla caste of oil-pressers, derived from the oil (gingelly: Sesamum indicum), whereas the names Gāniga and Gāndla refer to the oil-mill. In the Northern Circars, the name Tēlikula is used in preference to Gāniga or Gāndla, and the oil-pressers in that part of the country are known as Tēlikula-vāndlu. The Tēlikulas are Onteddu, i.e., use a single bullock for working the oil-mill, whereas, among the Gānigas, there are both Onteddu and Rendeddu sections, which employ one and two bullocks respectively.

Tellakula (white clan).—Recorded, in the Census Report, 1901, as a synonym for Tsākala. According to the Rev. J. Cain,[8] the Tellakulas are Telugu washermen (Tsākalas), who, in consequence of having obtained employment as peons in Government offices, feel themselves to be superior to other members of their caste.

Telli.—The Tellis are the oil-pressers of the Oriya country, whose caste name is derived from telo, oil. They are apparently divided into three endogamous sections, named Holodia, Bolodia, and Khadi. The original occupation of the Holodias is said to have been the cultivation and sale of turmeric. They may not carry turmeric and other articles for sale on the back of bullocks, and consequently use carts as a medium of transport thereof. And it is further contrary to their caste rules even to assist in loading or unloading packs carried by bullocks. The Bolodias receive their name from the fact that they carry produce in the form of oil-seeds, etc., on pack bullocks, bolodo being Oriya for bullock. The Khadis are mainly engaged in expressing various oils in oil-mills, and this occupation is also carried on by some members of the other sections. All Tellis seem to belong to one gōtra, called Karthikēswara. The caste title is Sāhu. In social position the Tellis, unlike the Tamil Vāniyans (oil-pressers), are on a par with the agricultural castes, and are one of the panchapātako, or five castes from which individuals are selected to decide serious issues which arise among the Badhōyis. The headman of the Tellis is called Bēhara, and he is assisted by a Bhollobaya, and in some places apparently by another officer called Pento.

It is considered by the Tellis as a breach of caste rules to sail in a boat or ship. If a cow dies with a rope round its neck, or on the spot where it is tethered, the family which owned it is under pollution until purification has been effected by means of a pilgrimage, or by bathing in a sacred river. The Holodias will not rear male calves at their houses, and do not castrate their bulls. Male calves are disposed of by sale as speedily as possible. Those Holodias who are illiterate make the mark (nisāni) of a ball of turmeric paste as a substitute for their autograph on documents. In like manner, the nisānis of the Bolodias and Khadis respectively are the leather belt of a bullock and curved pole of the oil-mill. Among nisānis used by other Oriya castes, the following may be noted:—

• Korono (writer caste), style.
• Rāvulo (temple servants), trident.
• Bāvuri (basket-makers and earth-diggers), sickle.
• Dhōba (washermen) fork used for collecting firewood.
• Brāhman, ring of dharba grass, such as is worn on ceremonial occasions.

In their marriage ceremonies, the Tellis observe the standard Oriya type, with a few variations. On the day before the wedding, two young married women carry two new pots painted white on their heads. To support the pots thereon, a single cloth, with the two ends rolled up to form a head-pad, must be used. The two women, accompanied by another married woman carrying a new winnowing basket, and mokkuto (forehead chaplet), proceed, to the accompaniment of the music of a chank shell and pipes, to a temple, whereat they worship. On their way home, the two girls, according to the custom of other Oriyas castes, go to seven houses, at each of which water is poured into their pots. During the marriage ceremony, after the ends of the cloths of the bride and bridegroom have been tied together, they exchange myrabolams (Terminalia fruits) and areca nuts. Until the close of the ceremonies, they may not plunge into a tank (pond) or river, and, in bathing, may not wet the head.

Most of the Tellis are Paramarthos, and follow the Chaitanya form of Vaishnavism, but some are Smartas, and all worship Tākurānis (village deities).

Telugu.—Telugu or Telaga is used as a linguistic term indicating a person who speaks that language. It has, at recent times of census, been returned as a sub-division of various classes, e.g., Agasa, Balija, Banajiga, Bēdar, Bestha, Dēvānga, Holeya, Kumbāra, Rāchewar, Tsākala, and Uppara. Further, Telugu Vellāla appears as a synonym of Velama, and Telugu Chetti as a synonym of Saluppan.

Tēn (honey).—Tēn or Jēn has been recorded as a sub-division or exogamous sept of jungle Kurumbas and Holeyas. Some Irulas style themselves Tēn Padaiyāchi or Tēn Vanniyan, Padaiyāchi and Vanniyan being a title and synonym of the Pallis.

Tendisai (southern country).—Recorded as a division of Vellālas in the Madura and Coimbatore districts.

Tenē (millet: Setaria italica).—An exogamous sept of Holeya.

Tengina (cocoanut palm).—The name of a section of Halēpaiks, who tap the cocoanut for extracting toddy.

Tennam.—Tennam (cocoanut) or Tennanjānār (cocoanut tappers) is recorded as the occupational name of Shānān. Tenkāyala (cocoanut) occurs as an exogamous sept of Yānādi, and the equivalent Tennang as a tree or kothu of Kondaiyamkōtti Maravans.

Tennilainādu.—A territorial sub-division of Kallan.

Terkattiyar (southerner).—A term applied to Kallan, Maravan, Agamudaiyan, and other immigrants into the Tanjore district. At Mayāvaram, for example, it is applied to Kallans, Agamudaiyans, and Valaiyans.

Tertal.—A division of Toda.

Teruvān.—A synonym of the Malabar Chāliyans, who are so called because, unlike most of the west coast castes, they live in streets (teru).

Tēvadiyāl (servant of god).—The Tamil name for Dēva-dāsis. Tēvan (god) occurs as a title of Maravans.

Tēyyambādi.—A section of Ambalavāsis or temple servants in Malabar, the members of which dance and sing in Bhagavati temples, and perform a song called nāgapāttu (song in honour of serpents) in private houses, which is supposed to be effective in procuring offspring.[9]

Thādla.—Thādla or Thālla, meaning rope, is an exogamous sept of Dēvānga and Karna Sālē.

Thākur.—About a hundred members of this caste are returned, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as belonging to a Bombay caste of genealogists and cultivators. It is recorded, in the Bombay Gazetteer, that “inferior in rank to Marāthas, the Thākurs are idle and of unclean habits. Though some of them till and twist woollen threads for blankets, they live chiefly by begging and ballad singing. At times they perform plays representing events mentioned in the Purāns and Rāmayan, and showing wooden puppets moved by strings.”

Thalakōkala (female cloths).—An exogamous sept of Dēvānga.

Thālam (palmyra palm).—An exogamous sept or illam of Kānikar.

Thāmballa (sword bean: Canavalia ensiformis).—An exogamous sept of Tsākalas, members of which will not eat the bean.

Thambūri.—A class of people in Mysore, who are Muhammadans, dress like Lambādis, but do not intermarry with them. (See Lambādi.)

Thanda Pulayan.—For the following note, I am indebted to Mr. L. K. Ananthakrishna Aiyar.[10] The Thanda Pulayans constitute a small division of the Pulayans, who dwell in South Malabar and Cochin. The name is given to them because of the garment worn by the females, made of the leaves of a sedge, called thanda (apparently Scirpus articulatus), which are cut into lengths, woven at one end, and tied round the waist so that they hang down below the knees. The following story is told with regard to the origin of this costume. A certain high-caste man, who owned lands in those parts, chanced to sow seeds, and plant vegetables. He was surprised to find that not a trace of what he sowed or planted was to be seen on the following day. With a view to clearing up the mystery, he kept a close watch during the night, and saw certain human beings, stark naked, come out of a hole. They were pursued, and a man and a woman were caught. Impressed with a sense of shame at their wretched condition, the high-caste man threw his upper garment to the male, but, having nothing to give as a covering for the woman, threw some thanda leaves over her. The Thanda Pulayans are also called Kuzhi Pulayans, as they were found emerging from a pit (kuzhi). The leafy garment is said to be fast going out of fashion, as Māppillas, and others who own the Pulayans, compel them to wear cotton cloths. According to the Rev. W. J. Richards, a division of the Pulayans, who are called Kanna Pulayans, and found near Alleppey, wear rather better, and more artistically made aprons.[11]

The following legend is current regarding the origin of the Thanda Pulayans. In the south, the Pulayans are divided into the eastern and western sections. The former were the slaves of Duryodhana, and the latter were attached to the Pāndus. These formed the two rival parties in the war of the Mahābaratha, and the defeat of Duryodhana was the cause of their degradation.

The Thanda Pulayans appear to have been the slaves of the soil till 1854, when they were emancipated. Even now, their condition has not undergone much material improvement. Though they are left more to themselves, they still work for farmers or landlords for a daily wage of paddy (unhusked rice). If they run away, they are brought back, and punished. There is a custom that, when a farmer or landlord wants a few Pulayans to work in the fields, he obtains their services on payment of fifteen to twenty rupees to them, or to their master. When a Pulayan’s services are thus obtained, he works for his new master for two edangalis of paddy a day. They can obtain their liberation on the return of the purchase-money, which they can never hope to earn. Having no property which they can claim as their own, and conscious perhaps that their lot will be the same wherever they go, they remain cheerful and contented, drudging on from day to day, and have no inclination to emigrate to places where they can get higher wages. The Cherumars of Palghāt, on the contrary, enjoy more freedom. Many go to the Wynād, and some to the Kolar gold-fields, where they receive a good money-wage. The Thanda Pulayans work, as has been said, for some landlord, who allows them small bits of land. The trees thereon belong to the master, but they are allowed to enjoy their produce during their residence there. When not required by the master, they can work where they like. They have to work for him for six months, and sometimes throughout the year. They have little to do after the crop has been garnered. They work in the rice-fields, pumping water, erecting bunds (mud embankments), weeding, transplanting, and reaping. Men, women, and children may be seen working together. After a day’s hard work, in the sun or rain, they receive their wages, which they take to the nearest shop, called mattupitica (exchange shop), where they receive salt, chillies, etc., in exchange for a portion of the paddy, of which the remainder is cooked. The master’s field must be guarded at night against the encroachment of cattle, and the depredations of thieves and wild beasts. They keep awake by shouting aloud, singing in a dull monotone, or beating a drum. Given a drink of toddy, the Pulayans will work for any length of time. It is not uncommon to see them thrashed for slight offences. If a man is thrashed with a thanda garment, he is so much disgraced in the eyes of his fellow men, that he is not admitted into their society. Some improve their condition by becoming converts to Christianity. Others believe that the spirits of the departed would be displeased, if they became Christians.

The Thanda Pulayan community is divided into exogamous illams, and marriage between members of the same illam is forbidden. Their habitations are called matams, which are miserable huts, supported on wooden posts, sometimes in the middle of a paddy field, with walls of reeds, bamboo mats or mud, and thatched with grass or cocoanut leaves. A few earthen pots, bamboo vessels, and cocoanut shells constitute their property. They are denied admission to the markets, and must stand at a distance to make their purchases or sales.

Pulayan girls are married either before or after attaining puberty, but there is special ceremony, which is performed for every girl during her seventh or eighth year. This is called thanda kalyānam, or thanda marriage. It consists in having the girl dressed at an auspicious hour in the leafy garment by a woman, generally a relative, or, in her absence, by one selected for the purpose. The relations and friends are entertained at a feast of curry and rice, fish from the backwater, and toddy. Prior to this ceremony, the girl is destitute of clothing, except for a strip of areca bark.

At the marriage ceremony, the tāli (marriage badge) is made of a piece of a conch shell (Turbinella rapa), which is tied on the bride’s neck at an auspicious hour. She is taken before her landlord, who gives her some paddy, and all the cocoanuts on the tree, beneath which she happens to kneel. When the time has come for her to be taken to the hut of the bridegroom, one of her uncles, taking her by the hand, gives her into the charge of one of her husband’s uncles. On the third morning, her paternal and maternal uncles visit her at the hut of the bridegroom, by whom they are entertained. They then return, with the bride and bridegroom, to the home of the former, where the newly-married couple stay for three days. To ascertain whether a marriage will be a happy one, a conch shell is spun round. If it falls to the north, it predicts good fortune; if to the east or west, the omens are favourable; if to the south, very unfavourable.

The Thanda Pulayans follow the makkathāyam law of inheritance (from father to son). They have their tribal assemblies, the members of which meet together on important occasions, as when a woman is charged with adultery, or when there is a theft case among them. All the members are more or less of equal status, and no superior is recognised. They swear by the sun, raising their hands, and saying “By the sun I did not.” Other oaths are “May my eyes perish” or “May my head be cut off by lightning.”

Every kind of sickness is attributed to the influence of some demon, with whom a magician can communicate, and discover a means of liberation. The magician, when called in professionally, lights a fire, and seats himself beside it. He then sings, mutters some mantrams (prayers), and makes a discordant noise on his iron plate (kokkara). The man or woman, who is possessed by the demon, begins to make unconscious movements, and is made to speak the truth. The demon, receiving offerings of fowls, sheep, etc., sets him or her free. A form of ceremonial, called urasikotukkuka, is sometimes performed. At a place far distant from the hut, a leaf, on which the blood of a fowl has been made to fall, is spread on the ground. On a smaller leaf, chunam (lime) and turmeric are placed. The person who first sets eyes on these becomes possessed by the demon, and sets free the individual who was previously under its influence. In the event of sickness, the sorcerer is invited to the hut. He arrives in the evening, and is entertained with food, toddy, and betel. He then takes a tender cocoanut, flower of the areca palm, and some powdered rice, which he covers over with a palm leaf. The sick person is placed in front thereof, and a circle is drawn round him. Outside the circle, an iron stylus is stuck in the ground. The demon is supposed to be confined within the circle, and makes the patient cry out “I am in pai (influence of the ghost) and he is beating me,” etc. With the promise of a fowl or sheep, or offerings thereof on the spot, the demon is persuaded to take its departure. Sometimes, when the sorcerer visits a house of sickness, a rice-pan containing three betel leaves, areca nuts, paddy, tulsi (Ocimum sanctum), sacred ashes, conch and cowry (Cypræa moneta) shells, is placed in the yard. The sorcerer sits in front of the pan, and begins to worship the demon, holding the shells in his hands, and turning to the four points of the compass. He then observes the omens, and, taking his iron plate, strikes it, while he chants the names of terrible demons, Mullva, Karinkāli, Aiyinar, and Villi, and utters incantations. This is varied by dancing, to the music of the iron plate, sometimes from evening till noon on the following day. The sick person works himself up into the belief that he has committed some great sin, and proceeds to make confession, when a small money fine is inflicted, which is spent on toddy for those who are assembled. The Thanda Pulayans practice maranakriyas, or sacrifices to certain demons, to help them in bringing about the death of an enemy or other person. Sometimes affliction is supposed to be brought about by the enmity of those who have got incantations written on a palm leaf, and buried in the ground near a house by the side of a well. A sorcerer is called in to counteract the evil charm, which he digs up, and destroys.

Thanda Palayan.

When a member of the tribe has died an unnatural death, a man, with a fowl and sword in his hands, places another man in a pit which has been dug, and walks thrice round it with a torch. After an hour or two, the man is taken out of the pit, and goes to a distance, where certain ceremonies are performed.

The Thanda Pulayans worship the gods of Brāhmanical temples at a distance of nearly a quarter of a mile. A stone is set up in the ground, on which they place tender cocoanuts and a few puttans (Cochin coins). A temple servant takes these to the priest, who sends in return some sandal paste, holy water, and flowers. They worship, as has been already hinted, demons, and also the spirits of their ancestors, by which small brass figures of males and females representing the pretas (ghosts) are supposed to be possessed. They worship, among others, Kandakarnan, Kodunkāli, Bhairavan, and Arukola pretas, who are lodged in small huts, and represented by stones. In the month of May, they celebrate a festival, which lasts for several days. Chrysanthemum and thumba (apparently Leucas aspera) flowers are used in the performance of worship, and paddy, beaten rice, tender cocoanuts, toddy, etc., are offered up. There is a good deal of singing, drum-beating and devil-dancing by men and women, who on this occasion indulge liberally in toddy. The Pāndavas, whom they call Anju Thamburakkal, are favourite deities. They devise various plans for warding off the evil influence of demons. Some, for example, wear rolls of palm leaf, with incantations written on them, round their necks. Others hang baskets in the rice fields, containing peace offerings to the gods, and pray for the protection of the crop. Wherever there is a dense forest, Mātan and Kāli are supposed to dwell, and are worshipped. From the end of November to April, which is the slack season, the Thanda Pulayans go about dancing from hut to hut, and collecting money to purchase fowls, etc., for offerings. Club-dancing is their favourite amusement, and is often indulged in at night by the light of a blazing fire. The dancers, club in hand, go round in concentric circles, keeping time to the songs which they sing, striking each other’s clubs, now bending to ward off a blow on the legs, or rising to protect the head.

The dead are buried, and lighted torches are set up all round the grave, on to which the relations of the dead person throw three handfuls of rice. Near it, squares are made in rice flour, in each of which a leaf with rice flour and paddy, and a lighted torch or wick is placed. The chief mourner, who should be the son or nephew, carrying a pot of water, goes several times round the grave, and breaks the pot over the spot where the head rests. A few grains of rice are placed at the four corners of the grave, and a pebble is laid on it, with mantrams to keep off jackals, and to prevent the spirit from molesting people. Every morning the chief mourner goes to the grave, and makes offerings of boiled rice, gingelly (Sesamum indicum) seeds, and karuka grass. On the fourteenth day, he has an oil-bath, and, on the following day, the Pulayans of the village (kara) have a feast, with singing and beating of drums. On the sixteenth day, which is pulakuli or day of purification, the chief mourner makes offerings of rice balls, the guests are fed, and make a present of small coin to the songster who has entertained them. Similar offerings of rice balls are made to the spirit of the deceased person on the new-moon day in the month of Kartigam. During the period of pollution, the chief mourner has to cook his own food. The spirits of deceased ancestors are called Chavar (the dead), and are said to manifest themselves in dreams, especially to near relations, who speak in the morning of what they have seen during the night. They even say that they have held conversation with the deceased. The Rev. W. J. Richards informs us that he once saw “a little temple, about the size of a large rabbit-hutch, in which was a plank for the spirits of the deceased ancestors to come and rest upon. The spirits are supposed to fish in the backwaters, and the phosphorescence, sometimes seen on the surface of the water, is taken as an indication of their presence.”[12]

The Thanda Pulayans will not eat with the Ullādans or Parayans, but stand at a distance of ninety feet from Brāhmans and other high-caste people. They are short of stature and dark-skinned. Like the Cherumans, the women adorn their ears, necks, arms and fingers with masses of cheap jewellery.

Thappata (drum).—An exogamous sept of Oddē.

Thāthan (a Vaishnavite mendicant).—The equivalent of the Telugu Dāsari.

Thātichettu (palmyra palm).—An exogamous sept of Karna Sālē and Oddē.

Thāvadadāri.—The name of a section of the Valluvans (priests of the Paraiyans), who wear a necklace of tulsi beads (thāvadam, necklace, dhāri, wearer). The tulsi or basil (Ocimum sanctum) is a very sacred plant with Hindus, and bead necklaces or rosaries are made from its woody stem.

Thēlu (scorpion).—Thēlu and Thēla are recorded as exogamous septs of Padma Sālē and Mādiga. The Canarese equivalent Chēlu occurs as a sept of Kuruba.

Thenige Būvva.—A sub-division of Mādigas, who offer food (buvva) to the god in a dish or tray (thenige) at marriages.

Thikka (simpleton).—A sub-division of Kuruba.

Thippa (rubbish heap).—An exogamous sept of Karna Sālē.

Thogamalai Korava.—Recorded[13] as a synonym of a thief class in the southern districts of the Madras Presidency. In a recent note on the Koravas, Mr. F. Fawcett writes that “a fact to be noted is that people such as the members of the well-known Thogamalai gang, who are always called Koravas by the police, are not Koravas at all. They are simply a criminal community, into which outsiders are admitted, who give their women in marriage outside the caste, and who adopt children of other castes.”

Thogaru (bitter).—An exogamous sept of Mūsu Kamma.

Thōka (tail).—An exogamous sept of Yerukala.

Thonda (Cephalendra indica).—An exogamous sept of Mūsu Kamma, and gōtra of Janappans, members of which abstain from using the fruit or leaves of the thonda plant.

Thumma (bābūl: Acacia arabica).—An exogamous sept of Māla and Padma Sālē. The bark, pods, and leaves of the bābūl tree are used by tanners in the preparation of hides and skins, or as a dye.

Thūmu (iron measure for measuring grain).—An exogamous sept of Mutrācha.

Thupa (ghī, clarified butter).—An exogamous sept of Kuruba.

Thūrpu (eastern).—A sub-division of Yerukala and Yānādi.

Thūta (hole).—An exogamous sept of Dēvānga.

Tigala.—Tigala is summed up, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “a Canarese synonym for the Tamil Palli; applied also by the Canarese people to any Tamil Sūdras of the lower castes.” In parts of the Mysore country, the Tamil language is called Tigalu, and the Canarese Mādhva Brāhmans speak of Tamil Smarta Brāhmans as Tigalaru.

Some of the Tigalas, who have settled in Mysore, have forgotten their mother-tongue, and speak only Canarese, while others, e.g., those who live round about Bangalore, still speak Tamil. In their type of cranium they occupy a position intermediate between the dolichocephalic Pallis and the sub-brachy cephalic Canarese classes.

The difference in the type of cranium of the Tigalas and Tamil Pallis is clearly brought by the following tabular statements of their cephalic indices:—

a. Tigala—

b. Palli—

The Tigalas are kitchen and market gardeners, and cultivate the betel vine. They apparently have three divisions, called Ulli (garlic or onions), Elē (leaf), and Arava (Tamil). Among the Ulli Tigalas, several sub-divisions, and septs or budas named after deities or prominent members of the caste, exist, e.g.:—

• I. Lakkamma—
  • Tōta dēvaru (garden god).
  • Dodda dēvaru (big or chief god).
  • Dodda Narasayya.
  • Dodda Nanjappa.
• II. Ellammā—
  • Narasayya.
  • Muddanna.
• III. Sidde dēvaru.

The Tigalas have a headman, whose office is hereditary, and who is assisted by a caste servant called Mudrē. Council meetings are usually held at a fixed spot, called gōni mara kattē or mudrē gōni mara kattē, because those summoned by the Mudrē assemble beneath a gōni (Ficus mysorensis) tree, round which a stone platform is erected. The tree and platform being sacred, no one may go there on wearing shoes or sandals. The members of council sit on a woollen blanket spread before the tree.

Like the Pallis or Vanniyans, the Tigalas call themselves Agni Vanni, and claim to be descended from the fire-born hero Agni Bannirāya. In connection with the Tigalas who have settled in the Bombay Presidency, it is noted[14] that “they are a branch of the Mysore Tigalas, who are Tamil Palli emigrants from the Madras Presidency, and, like the Palli, claim a Kshatriya origin.” The Tigalas possess a manuscript, said to be a copy of a sāsana at Conjeeveram (Kānchi), from which the following extracts are taken. “This is a Kānchi sāsana published by Aswaththa Narayanswāmi, who was induced to do so by the god Varadarāja of Conjeeveram. This sāsana is written to acquaint the descendants of the Mahāpurusha Agni Bannirāya with the origin, doings, and gōtra of their ancestor Bannirāya. This Bannirāya sprang from fire, and so is much beloved by Vishnu the many-armed, the many-eyed, and the bearer of the chank and chakram, and who is no other than Narayana, the lord of all the worlds great and small, and the originator of the Vēdas and Vedanta.... All those who see or worship this sāsana relating to Agni Bannirāya, who obtained boons from the Trimurthis, Dēvatas, and Rishis, and who is the ancestor of the Tigalas, will be prosperous, and have plenty of grain and children. Those who speak lightly of this caste will become subject to the curses of Bannirāya, Trimurthis, Rishis, and Dēvas. The glory of this sāsana is great, and is as follows:—The keeping and worshipping of this purāna will enable the Tigalas of the Karnataka country to obtain the merit of surapadavi (the state of Dēvas), merit of doing pūja to a thousand lingams, a lakh of cow gifts, and a hundred kannikadānams (gifts of virgins for marriage).” The sāsana is said to have been brought to the Canarese country because of a quarrel between the Pallis and the Tigalas at the time of a Tigala marriage. The Tigalas were prevented from bringing the various biruthus (insignia), and displaying them. The sāsana was brought by the Tigalas, at an expenditure of Rs. 215, which sum was subsequently recovered from the Pallis.

Tigala occurs further as the name of a sub-division of Holeya.

Tikkē (gem).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Ti (fire) Kollan.—A sub-division of Kollan.

Tinda (polluting).—A sub-division of Kanisan. Tinda Kuruppu, meaning a teacher who cannot approach, is a synonym of the Kāvutiyan barber caste.

Tiperum (tī, fire).—A sub-division of Kollan blacksmiths.

Tiragati Gantlavallu (wandering bell hunters).—Stated, in the Manual of the Vizagapatam district, to repair hand-mills, catch antelopes, and sell the skins thereof. In hunting, they use lights and bells.

Tirlasetti (the name of a Balija Chetti).—An exogamous sept of Yānādi.

Tirumalpād.—Tirumalpād has been summed up as “one of the four divisions of Kshatriyas in Travancore. The term, in its literal sense, conveys the idea of those who wait before kings. In mediæval times the Tirumalpāds were commanders of armies.” By Mr. Wigram[15] Tirumalpād is defined as a member of a Royal Family. In the Madras Census Report, 1891, it is stated that “there are two Tirumalpāds, one a Sāmanta, and the other a so-called Kshatriya. The former observes customs and manners exactly similar to Erādis and Nedungādis. In fact, these are all more or less interchangeable terms, members of the same family calling themselves indifferently Erādi or Tirumalpād. The Kshatriya Tirumalpād wears the sacred thread, and the rites he performs are similar to those of Brāhmans, whose dress he has also adopted. He has, however, like Nāyars, tāli-kettu and sambandham separately. His females take Nambūdiri consorts by preference, but may have husbands of their own caste. Their inheritance is in the female line, as among Nāyars and Sāmantas. Generally the females of this caste furnish wives to Nambūdiris. The touch of these females does not pollute a Nambūdiri as does that of Nāyars and Sāmantas, and, what is more, Nambūdiris may eat their food. The females are called Nambashtādiri.”

For the following note on Tampāns and Tirumalpāds, I am indebted to the Travancore Census Report, 1901. “The Tampāns and Tirumalpāts come under the category of Malabar Kshatriyas.The word Tampān is a contraction of Tampurān, and at one time denoted a ruling people. When they were divested of that authority by the Ilayetattu Svarūpam, they are said to have fallen from the status of Tampurāns to Tampāns. Their chief seat is the Vaikam tāluk. The Tirumalpāts do not seem to have ruled at all. The word Tirumulpātu indicates those that wait before kings. There is an old Sanskrit verse, which describes eight classes of Kshatriyas as occupying Kērala from very early times, namely (1) Bhūpāla or Mahā Rāja, such as those of Travancore and Cochin, (2) Rājaka or Rājas, such as those of Mavelikara and Kotungallūr, (3) Kōsi or Kōiltampurān, (4) Puravān or Tampān, (5) Srīpurōgama or Tirumulpāt, (6) Bhandāri or Pantārattil, (7) Audvāhika or Tirumalpāt, (8) Chēta or Sāmanta. From this list it may be seen that two classes of Tirumulpāts are mentioned, namely, Srīpurōgamas who are the waiters at the Rāja’s palace, and the Audvāhikas who perform Udvāha or wedding ceremony for certain castes. Both these, however, are identical people, though varying in their traditional occupations. The chief seats of the Tirumulpāts are Shertallay and Tiruvalla.”

The Tampāns and Tirumulpāts are, for all purposes of castes, identical with other Malabar Kshatriyas. Every Tampān in Travancore is related to every other Tampān, and all are included within one circle of death and birth pollution. Their manners and customs, too, are exactly like those of other Kshatriyas. They are invested with the sacred thread at the sixteenth year of age, and recite the Gāyatri (hymn) ten times thrice a day. The Nambūtiri is the family priest, and (death) pollution lasts for eleven days. The Kettukālyanam, or tāli-tying ceremony, may be performed between the seventh and the fourteenth year of age. The tāli is tied by the Āryappattar, while the Nampūtiris recite the Vēdic hymns. Their consorts are usually Nampūtiris, and sometimes East Coast Brāhmans. Like all the Malabar Kshatriyas, they follow the marumakkathāyam system of inheritance (through the female line). Tampāns and Tirumulpāts are often the personal attendants of the Travancore Maharājas, whom they serve with characteristic fidelity and devotion.The Tirumulpāts further perform the tāli-tying ceremony of the Nāyar aristocracy.

The names of the Tirumulpāts and Tampāns are the same as those of other classes of Kshatriyas. The title Varma is uniformly added to their names. A few families among these, who once had ruling authority, have the titular suffix Bhandārattil, which is corrupted into Pantārattil. The Tampāns call themselves in documents Kōviladhikārikal, as they once had authority in kōvils or palaces.

Tirumān (holy deer).—An exogamous section of Kallan.

Tirumudi (holy knot).—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “bricklayers, whose women are usually prostitutes; found chiefly in Salem and Coimbatore. They are either Vēttuvans or Kaikōlans. Kaikōlan women, when they are dedicated to the temple, are supposed to be united in wedlock with the deity.

Tiruvalluvan.—A sub-division of Valluvan. Tiruvalluvar, the author of the Kurāl, is said to have belonged to the Valluva caste.

Tiru-vilakku-nagarattar (dwellers in the city of holy lamps).—A name assumed by Vāniyans (oil-pressers).

Tiyadi.—A synonym of the Tiyāttunni section of Ambalavāsis (see Unni).

Tiyan.—The Tiyans, and Izhuvans or Iluvans, are the Malayālam toddy-drawing castes of Malabar, Cochin, and Travancore. The following note, except where otherwise indicated, is taken from an account of the Tiyans of Malabar by Mr. F. Fawcett.

The Tiyans in Malabar number, according to the census returns, 512,063, or 19·3 per cent. of the total population. The corresponding figures for the Izhuvans are 101,638, or 3·8 per cent. The Tiyans have been summed up[16] as the middle class of the west coast, who cultivate the ground, take service as domestics, and follow trades and professions—anything but soldiering, of which they have an utter abhorrence.

The marumakkatāyam system (inheritance through the female line), which obtains in North Malabar, has favoured temporary connections between European men and Tiyan women, the children belonging to the mother’s tarvad. Children bred under these conditions, European influence continuing, are often as fair as Europeans. It is recorded, in the Report of the Malabar Marriage Commission, 1894, that “in the early days of British rule, the Tiyan women incurred no social disgrace by consorting with Europeans, and, up to the last generation, if the Sūdra girl could boast of her Brāhman lover, the Tiyan girl could show more substantial benefits from her alliance with a white man of the ruling race. Happily, the progress of education, and the growth of a wholesome public opinion, have made shameful the position of a European’s concubine; and both races have thus been saved from a mode of life equally demoralising to each.” On this point, Mr. L. K. Anantha Krishna Iyer writes as follows.[17] “It is true that there is an elevation both physically and mentally in the progeny of such a parentage. On making enquiries about this, I learn from a respectable and educated Tiyan gentleman that this union is looked upon with contempt by the respectable class of people, and by the orthodox community. I am further informed that such women and children, with their families, are under a ban, and that respectable Tiya gentlemen who have married the daughters of European parentage are not allowed to enjoy the privileges of the caste. There are, I hear, several such instances in Calicut, Tellicherry, and Cannanore. Women of respectable families do not enter into such connection with Europeans.”

It is commonly supposed that the Tiyans and Izhuvans came from Ceylon. It is recorded, in the South Canara Manual, that “it is well known that both before and after the Christian era there were invasions and occupations of the northern part of Ceylon by the races then inhabiting Southern India, and Malabar tradition tells us that some of these Dravidians migrated again from Īram or Ceylon northwards to Travancore and other parts of the west coast of India, bringing with them the cocoanut or southern tree (tengina mara), and being known as Tīvars (islanders) or Īravars, which names have since been altered to Tīyars and Ilavars. Dr. Caldwell derives Īram from the Sanskrit Simhala through the Pali Sihala by the omission of the initial S.” It is noted by Bishop Caldwell[18] that there are traces of a common origin of the Iluvans and Shānars, Shānar (or Shēnēr), for instance, being a title of honour amongst the Travancore Ilavars. And it is further recorded[19] that there is a tradition that the Shānars came originally from Ceylon. The Izhuvans are supposed to derive their caste name from Izha dwipa (island) or Simhala dwipa (both denoting Ceylon). In a Tamil Puranic work, quoted by Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer, mention is made of a King Illa of Ceylon, who went to Chidambaram in the Tamil country of Southern India, where a religious discussion took place between the Buddhist priests and the Saivite devotee Manickavachakar in the presence of King Illa, with the result that he was converted to the Saivite faith. From him the Iluvans are said to be descended.

The Tiyans are always styled Izhuvan in documents concerning land, in which the Zamorin, or some Brāhman or Nāyar grandee, appears as landlord. The Tiyans look down on the Izhuvans, and repudiate the relationship. Yet they cannot but submit to be called Izhuvan in their documents, for their Nāyar or Brāhman landlord will not let them have the land to cultivate, unless they do so. It is a custom of the country for a man of a superior caste to pretend complete ignorance of the caste of an individual lower in the social scale. Thus, in the Wynād, where there are several jungle tribes, one is accustomed to hear a man of superior caste pretending that he does not know a Paniyan from a Kurumba, and deliberately miscalling one or the other, saying “This Paniyan,” when he knows perfectly well that he is a Kurumba. It is quite possible, therefore, that, though Tiyans are written down as Izhuvans, the two were not supposed to be identical. State regulations keep the Izhuvans of Cochin and Travancore in a position of marked social inferiority, and in Malabar they are altogether unlettered and uncultured. On the other hand, the Tiyans of Malabar provide Magistrates, Sub-Judges, and other officials to serve His Majesty’s Government. It may be noted that, in 1907, a Tiya lady matriculate was entertained as a clerk in the Tellicherry post-office.

A divagation must be made, to bring the reader to a comprehension of the custom surrounding māttu, a word signifying change, i.e., change of cloth, which is of sufficient importance to demand explanation. When a man or woman is outcasted, the washerwoman (or man) and the barber of the community (and no other is available) are prohibited from performing their important parts in the ceremonies connected with birth, death, and menstruation. A person who is in a condition of impurity is under the same conditions; he or she is temporarily outcasted. This applies to Nambūtiris and Nāyars, as well as to the Tiyans. Now the washerwoman is invariably of the Tiyan caste. There are Mannāns, whose hereditary occupation is washing clothes for Nambūtiris and Nāyars, but, for the most part, the washerwoman who washes for the Nāyar lady is of the Tiyan caste. A woman is under pollution after giving birth to a child, after the death of a member of her tarvad, and during menstruation. And the pollution must be removed at the end of the prescribed period, or she remains an outcaste—a very serious thing for her. The impurity is removed by receiving a clean cloth from the washerwoman, and giving in exchange her own cloth to be washed. This is māttu, and, be it noted, the cloth which gives māttu is one belonging to the washerwoman, not to the person to be purified. The washerwoman gives her own cloth to effect the purification. Theoretically, the Tiyan has the power to give or withhold māttu, and thus keep any one out of caste in a state of impurity; but it is a privilege which is seldom if ever exercised. Yet it is one which he admittedly holds, and is thus in a position to exercise considerable control over the Nambūtiri and Nāyar communities. It is odd that it is not a soiled cloth washed and returned to the person which gives purification, but one of the washerwoman’s own cloths. So the māttu may have a deeper meaning than lies in mere change of cloth, dressing in a clean one, and giving the soiled one to a person of inferior caste to wash. This māttu is second in importance to no custom. It must be done on the last day of pollution after birth and death ceremonies, and menstruation, or the person concerned remains outcasted. It is noteworthy that the Izhuvans know nothing of māttu.

An Izhuvan will eat rice cooked by a Tiyan, but a Tiyan will not eat rice cooked by an Izhuvan—a circumstance pointing to the inferiority of the Izhuvan. A Nāyar, as well as a Tiyan, will partake of almost any form of food or drink, which is prepared even by a Māppilla (Malabar Muhammadan), who is deemed inferior to both. But the line is drawn at rice, which must be prepared by one of equal caste or class, or by a superior. An Izhuvan, partaking of rice at a Tiyan’s house, must eat it in a verandah; he cannot do so in the house, as that would be defilement to the Tiyan. Not only must the Izhuvan eat the rice in the verandah, but he must wash the plates, and clean up the place where he has eaten. Again, an Izhuvan could have no objection to drinking from a Tiyan’s well. Further, there is practically no mixture in the distribution of Tiyans and Izhuvans. Where there are Izhuvans there are no Tiyans, and vice versâ. [In a photograph of a group of Izhuvan females of Palghat eating their meal, which was sent to me, they are all in a kneeling posture, with the buttocks supported on the heels. They are said to assume the same attitude when engaged in grinding and winnowing grain, and other occupations, with a resultant thickening of the skin over the knees.]

Differences, which might well come under the heading marriage, may be considered here, for the purpose of comparison between the Tiyans and Izhuvans. During the preliminaries to the marriage ceremony among the Tiyans, the date of the marriage having been fixed in the presence of the representatives of the bride and bridegroom, the following formula is repeated by the Tandān or headman of the bride’s party. Translated as accurately as possible, it runs thus. “The tara and changati of both sides having met and consulted; the astrologer having fixed an auspicious day after examining the star and porutham; permission having been obtained from the tara, the relations, the illam and kulam, the father, uncle, and the brothers, and from the eight and four (twelve illams) and the six and four (ten kiriyams); the conji and adayalam ceremonies and the four tazhus having been performed, let me perform the kanjikudi ceremony for the marriage of ... the son of ... with ... daughter of ... in the presence of muperium.” This formula, with slight variations here and there, is repeated at every Tiyan marriage in South Malabar. It is a solemn declaration, giving validity to the union, although, in the way that custom and ritual survive long after their original significance has been forgotten, the meaning of many of the terms used is altogether unknown. What, for instance, is the meaning of muperium? No one can tell. But a few of the terms are explainable.

Tara. The tara was the smallest unit in the ancient government system, which, for want of a better term, we may style feudal. It was not exactly a village, for the people lived apart. Each tara had its Nāyar chieftain, and also its Tiyan chief or Tandān, its astrologer, its washerman, its goldsmith, and other useful people, each serving the community for the sake of small advantages. Each tara was its own world.

Changati (friend). The friends of both parties which negotiated the marriage.

Porutham (agreement). Examination of the horoscopes of the boy and girl makes it possible to ascertain whether there is agreement between the two, and the union will be propitious.

Illam. Here intended to mean the father’s family.

Kulam. The name, derived from kula a branch, here denotes the mother’s family.

Twelve illams, ten kiriyams. The word illam, now used exclusively for the residence of a Nambūtiri, is supposed to have been used in days of old for the house of a person of any caste. And this supposition is said to find support in the way that a Tiyan coming from the south is often greeted in South Canara. Thus, a Malabar Tiyan, travelling to the celebrated temple at Gokarnam in South Canara, is at once asked “What is your illam and kiriyam?” He has heard these terms used in the foregoing formula during his own or another’s marriage ceremony, but attached no meaning to them. To the man of South Canara they have genuine meaning. One should be able to answer the question satisfactorily, and thus give a proper account of himself. If he cannot, he gets neither food nor water from the South Canara Tiyan. This also holds good, to some extent, in the case of a southern Tiyan visiting the northern parts of the Cherakal tāluk of Malabar.

The ten illams of South Malabar are as follows:—

Tala Kodan.
Nellika (Phyllanthus Emblica).
Paraka or Varaka.
Ala.
Ten Kudi or Tenan Kudi.
Padayan Kudi.
Kannan.
Varakat.
Kytat		inferior.
Puzhampayi or Bavu

The illams of North Malabar are said to be—

• Nellika.
• Pullanhi.
• Vangeri.
• Koyikkalan.
• Padayam Kudi.
• Tenan Kudi.
• Manan Kudi.
• Vilakkan Kudi.

Marriage is strictly forbidden between two persons belonging to the same illam. The bride and bridegroom must belong to different illams. In fact, the illams are exogamous. Members of some of the illams were allowed certain privileges and dignities. Thus, the men of the Varakat illam (Varaka Tiyans) were in the old days permitted to travel in a mancheel (a hammock-cot slung on a pole). They were allowed this privilege of higher caste people, which was prohibited to the Tiyans of other illams. But, should one of them, when travelling in a mancheel, happen to see a Rājah or a Nāyar, he was obliged to hang one of his legs out of it in token of submission. The Varaka Tiyans were further allowed to wear gold jewels on the neck, to don silken cloths, to fasten a sword round the waist, and to carry a shield. The sword was made of thin pliable steel, and worn round the waist like a belt, the point being fastened to the hilt through a small hole near the point. A man, intending to damage another, might make an apparently friendly call on him, his body loosely covered with a cloth, and to all appearances unarmed. In less than a second, he could unfasten the sword round his waist, and cut the other down. The well-known Mannanar belonged to the Varakat illam. Those who know Malabar will recall to mind the benevolent but strange institution which he initiated. He provided a comfortable home for Nambūtiri women who were thrown out of caste, and thus in the ordinary course of events doomed to every misery and degradation to be found in life. On being outcasted, the funeral ceremonies of Nambūtiri women were performed by her own people, and she became dead to them. She went to the Mannanar, and her birth ceremonies were performed, so that she might begin life anew in a state of purity. If, on arrival, she entered by the left door, she was his wife, if by the front door, his sister. It is said that, when their chief, Mannanar of the Aramana, is destitute of heirs, the Tiyans of Kolattanād go in procession to the Kurumattūr Nambūtiri (the chief of the Peringallūr Brāhmans) and demand a Brāhman virgin to be adopted as sister of Mannanar, who follows the marumakkatāyam rule of succession. This demand, it is said, used to be granted by the Nambūtiris assembling at a meeting, and selecting a maiden to be given to the Tiyans.

Kiriyam is said to be a corrupt form of the Sanskrit word griham (house), but this seems rather fanciful. There are said to have been about two kiriyams for each village. The names of only three are known to me, viz., Karumana, Kaita, and Kampathi. There is a village called Karumana, near the temple of Lakshmipuram in South Canara. Karumana is applied as a term to signify a Tiyan during the ordinary devil-dancing in temples, when an oracular utterance is delivered. The oracle always addresses the Tiyan as “my Karumana,” not as “my Tiyan.” The only other use of the word is in Karumana acharam (the customs of the Tiyans).

Other outward and visible differences between Tiyan and Izhuvan marriages are these. The South Malabar Tiyan bridegroom, dressed as if for a wrestling match, with his cloth tied tight about his loins, carries a sword and shield, and is escorted by two companions similarly equipped, dancing their way along. The Izhuvan does not carry a sword under any circumstances. The chief feature of his wedding ceremony is a singing match. This, called the vatil-tura-pāttu, or open the door song, assumes the form of a contest between the parties of the bridegroom and bride. The story of Krishna and his wife Rukmini is supposed to be alluded to. We have seen it all under slightly different colour at Conjeeveram. Krishna asks Rukmini to open the door, and admit him. She refuses, thinking he has been gallivanting with some other lady. He beseeches; she refuses. He explains, and at length she yields. The song is more or less extempore, and each side must be ready with an immediate answer. The side which is reduced to the extremity of having no answer is beaten and under ignominy.

I pass on to the subject of personal adornment of the Tiyans:—

(a) North Malabar, Males—

• 1. A horizontal dab made with white ashes on either side of the forehead and chest, and on the outside of each shoulder.
• 2. Two gold ear-rings (kadakkan) in each ear. A silver chain hanging from the sheath of his knife, and fastened with a boss. Two tambak (copper, brass and silver) rings on the ring finger of the left hand.
• 3. A gold kadakkan in each ear, and an iron ring on the ring finger of the left hand.
• 4. A thorn in each ear (another was similarly ornamented). Not married.
• 5. A gold ear-ring in each ear. An iron ring on the little finger of the left hand. Two silver rings, in which is set a piece of hair from an elephant’s tail, on the little finger of the right hand.

A few individuals wore brass rings, and some had ear-rings, in which a red stone was set. Amulets were worn by some in little cylindrical cases on a string, to protect the wearer against enemies, the evil eye, or devils. One man wore a silver girdle, to which an amulet in a case was fastened, underneath his cloth, so that it was not in view to the public. One individual only is noted as having been tattooed, with a circular mark just above his glabella. The arms of a good many, and the abdomen of a few, bore cicatrices from branding, apparently for the purpose of making them strong and relieving pains.

(b) South Malabar, Males.

In the country parts, the waist cloth is always worn above the knee. About a third of the individuals examined wore ear-rings. The ears of all were pierced. Those who were without ear-rings had no scruples about wearing them, but were too poor to buy them.

• 1. Blue spot tattooed over the glabella.
• 2. Silver amulet-case, containing fifteen gold fanams, at the waist. He said that he kept the coins in the receptacle for security, but I think it was for good luck.
• 3. Ear-ring (kadakkan) in each ear. A copper amulet-case, containing a yantram to keep off devils, at the waist.
• 4. Four silver amulet-cases, containing yantrams on a copper sheet for curing some ailment, at the waist.
• 5. Two gold kadakkans in each ear. A white spot over the glabella.

(c) North Malabar, Females.

In olden days, the women used to wear coloured and striped cloths round the waist, and hanging to the knees. The breast was not covered. The body above the waist was not allowed to be covered, except during the period of death pollution. Nowadays, white is generally the colour to be seen, and the body is seldom covered above the waist—never one may say, except (and then only sometimes) in the towns. The Izhuvan women in Malabar always wear blue cloths: just one cloth rolled tightly round the waist, and hanging to the knees. Of late, they have taken to wearing also a blue cloth drawn tight over the breast.

Ornaments. The thōdu, which is now sometimes worn by Tiyan women, is not a Tiyan ornament. The ear-rings, called kathila and ananthod, are the Tiyan ornaments, and look like strings of gold beads with pendants. Discs of white metal or lead are used to stretch and keep open the dilated lobes of the ears, in which gold ornaments are worn when necessary or possible. Venetian sequins, real or imitation, known in Malabar as amāda, are largely used for neck ornaments. There is a Malabar proverb that one need not look for an insect’s burrow in amāda, meaning that you cannot find anything vile in a worthy person.

Turning now to the subject of marriage. In the ordinary course of things, a marriage would not be made between a Tiyan girl of South Malabar and a Tiyan man of North Malabar, for the reason that the children of such a marriage would inherit no property from the family of either parent. The husband would have no share in the property of his family, which devolves through the women; nor would the wife have any share in that of her family, which is passed on through the men. So there would be nothing for the children. But, on the other hand, marriage between a girl of the north and a man of the south is a different thing. The children would inherit from both parents. As a rule, Tiyans of the north marry in the north, and those of the south in the south.

It was generally admitted that it was formerly the custom among the Tiyans in South Malabar for several brothers—in fact all of them—to share one wife. Two existing instances of this custom were recorded.

The arrangement of a marriage, and the ceremonial which will now be described, though pertaining strictly to the Calicut tāluk of South Malabar, are sufficiently representative of a Tiyan marriage anywhere. There is, however, this difference, that, in North Malabar, where inheritance through females obtains, and the wife invariably resides in her own tarwad or family home, there is never any stipulation concerning a girl’s dowry. In South Malabar, where inheritance is through the males, and where the wife lives in her husband’s house, the dowry in money, jewels, or furniture, is as a rule settled beforehand, and must be handed over on the wedding day. In the Calicut tāluk, we find an exception to this general rule of South Malabar, where the subject of the dowry is not usually mentioned. In North Malabar, gifts of jewels are made in proportion as the bride’s people are wealthy and generous. What is given is in the way of a gift, and forms no feature in the marital agreement.

Tiya woman.

The first step to be taken in connection with marriage is examination of the horoscopes of the boy and girl, in order to ascertain whether their union will be one of happiness or the reverse. While this is being done by the Panikkar (Malabar astrologer), the following persons should be present:—

(a) On the part of the bridegroom—

• 1. Tandān, or chief of the tara.
• 2. Father, or other elder in the family.
• 3. Uncle, i.e., the mother’s brother. In Malabar the word uncle means maternal uncle.
• 4. Sisters’ husbands.
• 5. Four or more friends or companions.
• 6. Any number of relations and friends.

(b) On the part of the bride—

• 1. Tandān of her tara.
• 2. Father,or other guardian.
• 3. Uncle.
• 4. Four or more friends.
• 5. The astrologer of her tara.
• 6. Friends and relations.

The ceremony must be performed at the house of the girl’s family. Her father’s consent is necessary, but his presence is not essential at this or the two subsequent ceremonies in connection with the marriage. The Tandān, it may be noted, is the caste governmental head in all matters affecting his own caste and the artisans. He is a Tiyan, and his office, which is authorised by the local Rājah, or rather by his senior Rāni, is hereditary. In exceptional cases, however, the hereditary right may be interrupted by the Rāni appointing some one else. The Tandān of the tara is required to assist at every ceremony connected with marriage, at the ceremony when a girl attains puberty, at that of tying the tāli, and at the fifth and seventh months of pregnancy. His formal permission is required before the carpenter can cut down the areca palm, with which the little shed in which the tāli is tied is constructed. In cases of divorce, his functions are important. When a new house is built, there must be a house-warming ceremony, at which the Tandān officiates. Fowls are sacrificed, and the right leg is the Tandān’s perquisite. He is a man of importance, not only in many affairs within his own caste, but also in those of other castes. Thus, when a Nāyar dies, it is the Tandān’s duty to get the body burnt. He controls the washerman and barber of the tara, and can withdraw their services when they are most needed. He officiates, moreover, at marriages of the artisan class—carpenters, braziers, goldsmiths and blacksmiths.

A group of taras forms what is called a dēsam, the koyma or “sovereignty” of which is represented by a Nāyar tarwad. It is through the head or Karnavan (really the chieftain) of this tarwad that the Tandān approaches the Rāja in matters of appeal, and the like. The Tandān is to some extent under his guidance and control, but he must provide the Tandān with a body-guard of two Nāyars on occasions of marriages. In the old days, it may be mentioned, the Tandāns of the taras within the rule of the Zamorin were always appointed by his senior Rāni. The term Tandān must not be confounded with the Tandars, a people of the Palghāt tāluk, who appear to be allied to the Izhuvans. These Tandars observe the custom of paternal polyandry, while the Izhuvans abhor it.

The procedure observed in the examination of horoscopes is as follows. The Tandān of the bride’s tara gives a grass or palmyra palm leaf mat to the astrologer to sit on, and supplies mats or seats for the bridegroom’s party. The common sleeping mat of wild pine leaves, or a wooden stool, must, on no account, be given for the astrologer to sit on. It may be day or night when the ceremony takes place, but, whatever the hour may be, a lamp having five, seven, nine, or eleven cotton wicks, must be burning in front of the astrologer. The Tandān’s wife puts it in its place. Then the boy’s uncle hands over the boy’s horoscope to his Tandān, who passes it on to the girl’s Tandān. The girl’s father hands her horoscope to their Tandān, who, when he has received them both, passes them on to the astrologer. The two horoscopes should agree on twenty-one points—a requirement which might prove awkward, were it not that a balance in favour of beneficent influences is generally allowed to admit of the marriage taking place. In the case of agreement, the boy’s uncle, through his Tandān, then pays two fanams[20] (eight annas)—one for each horoscope—to the astrologer. When there is disagreement, the girl’s uncle pays the money. The horoscopes (which have been privately examined beforehand to make sure of no disagreement) are returned to their respective owners. After the examination of the horoscope, there is a feast with plenty of sweetmeats. The next item is the conjee (rice gruel) ceremony, at which the following should be present:—

(a) On the part of the boy—

• 1. Father, his brother, or some one representing him.
• 2. Husbands of all married sisters.
• 3. Uncle.
• 4. Tandān of his tara.
• 5. Neighbours and friends.

(b) On the part of the girl—

• 1. Uncle.
• 2. Relations of married sisters.
• 3. Relations of married brothers.
• 4. Tandān of her tara.
• 5. Astrologer of her tara.
• 6. Relations and friends.

The horoscopes are again formally examined by the astrologer, who announces that their agreement augurs a happy wedded life. The boy’s uncle pays him two fanams. The girl’s uncle takes the two horoscopes, which have just been tied together, from the astrologer, and hands them to the Tandān of the girl’s tara, who passes them on to the Tandān of the boy’s tara. They are handed by him to the boy’s uncle. The astrologer then writes on a palmyra leaf a note for each party to the marriage, stating the auspicious day and hour for the final ceremony, the hour at which the bride should leave her house, and the hour for her arrival at the house of the bridegroom. The following programme is then gone through. In the verandah, facing east, before the front door, is spread an ordinary sleeping mat, over it a grass mat, and over that a plain white cloth which has been washed and is not a new one. On the floor close by, the following articles are placed:—

A lamp, having an odd number of cotton wicks, which is kept lighted whatever the hour of day it may be;

A measure, called nāzhi, made of jak tree (Artocarpus integrifolia) wood, filled to overflowing with rice, and placed on a flat bell-metal plate (talika);

A plain white cloth, washed but not new, neatly folded, and placed on the metal plate to the right (south) of the rice;

A small bell-metal vessel (kindi), having no handle, filled with water.

The lamp is placed on the south side of the mat, the plate next to it (to the north), and the kindi at a little distance to the left (the north). The people who sit on the mat always face the east. The mat having been spread, the various articles just mentioned are brought from the central room of the house by three women, who set them in their places. The Tandān’s wife carries the lamp, the eldest woman of the house the bell-metal plate, and some other woman the kindi. The Tandān of the boy’s tara, the boy’s sister’s husband, and a friend then sit on the mat covered with a cloth. If the boy has two brothers-in-law, both sit on the mat, to the exclusion of the friend. The senior woman of the house then hands three plates of rice conjee to the Tandān of the girl’s tara, who places them in front of the three persons seated on the mat. To the right of each plate, a little jaggery (unrefined sugar) is placed on a piece of plantain leaf. Each of those seated takes about a spoonful of conjee in his right hand. The Tandān repeats the formula, which has already been given, and asks “May the conjee be drunk”? He answers his question by drinking some of the conjee, and eating a little jaggery. All three then partake of the conjee and jaggery, after which they rise from the mat, and the plates and mat are removed. The place is cleaned, and the mats are again put down, while betel is distributed. The two Tandāns then sit on the mat. The girl’s Tandān picks up a bundle of about twenty-five betel leaves, and gives half to the boy’s Tandān. The Tandāns exchange betel leaves, each giving the other four. The boy’s Tandān then folds four fanams (one rupee) in four betel leaves, which he hands to the girl’s Tandān, saying “May the conjee ceremony be performed”? The Tandāns again exchange betel leaves as before, and distribute them to all the castemen present, beginning with the uncles of the boy and girl. The proceedings in the verandah are now over. The next part of the ceremony takes place in the middle room of the house, where the mats, lamp, and other articles are arranged as before. The two Tandāns sit on the mat with the boy on the right and the girl on the left, facing east. The boy’s uncle stands in front of the Tandāns, facing west, and the girl’s uncle behind them, facing east. The boy’s father gives to the boy’s uncle two new plain white cloths, with twenty-one fanams (Rs. 5–4) placed on them. When presenting them, he says “Let the Adayalam be performed” three times, and the girl’s uncle says thrice “Let me receive the Adayalam.” The Tandāns again exchange betel leaves, and distribute them among the castemen. Then follows a feast, and more betel. The date of the wedding has now to be fixed. They congregate in the middle room once more, and the Tandāns sit on the mat. The girl’s Tandān shares a bundle of betel leaves with the boy’s Tandān, who, taking therefrom four leaves, places two rupees on them, and gives them to the girl’s Tandān. The boy’s party supplies this money, which is a perquisite of the Tandān. When handing over the leaves and the coins, the boy’s Tandan says “On ... (naming a date) ... and ... (the bride and bridegroom), and friends, and four women will come. Then you must give us the girl, and you must prepare the food for that day.” The other Tandān replies “If you bring six cloths and forty-two fanams (Rs. 10–8) as kanam, and two fanams for the muchenan (the girl’s father’s sister’s son), the girl will be sent to you.” The cloths should be of a kind called enna kacha, each four cubits in length, but they are not now procurable. Kanam is a term used in land tenures, for which there is no precise equivalent in English. It is a kind of mortgage paid by a tenant to a landlord. The former is liable to eviction by the latter, when he obtains better terms for his land from another tenant—a condition of modern growth breeding much mischief and bad blood. But, when a tenant is evicted, he is entitled, according to law, to the value of certain improvements on the land, including eight annas for each tree which he has planted. The kanam is paid by the boy’s sister or sisters. His Tandān addresses his brother-in-law or brothers-in-law in the words “On ... (mentioning a date), you must come early in the day, with Rs. 10–8 as kanam,” and gives him or them four betel leaves. Those assembled then disperse. The boy’s people may not go to the girl’s house before the day appointed for the marriage.

The next item in connection with a marriage is the issue of invitations to the wedding. The senior women of the boy’s house, and the Tandān, invite a few friends to assemble at the house of the bridegroom. The mat, lamp, and other articles are placed in the middle room. The bridegroom (manavālan) sits on the mat, with a friend on either side of him. He has previously bathed, and horizontal daubs of sandal paste have been placed on his forehead, breast, and arms. He wears a new cloth, which has not been washed. His Tandān has adorned him with a gold bracelet on his right wrist, a knife with a gold or silver handle at the waist, and a gold or silver waist-belt or girdle over the loin-cloth. The bracelet must have an ornamental pattern, as plain bracelets are not worn by men. The girdle is in the form of a chain. Besides these things, he must wear ear-rings, and he should have rings on his fingers. His sister who pays the kanam dresses in the same style, but her cloths may be of silk, white without a pattern in the border, and she wears gold bracelets on both wrists. All enjoy a good meal, and then set out, and visit first the house of the Tandān. He and his wife walk in front, followed by the boy’s elder sisters, if he has any. Then comes the bridegroom with a friend before and behind him, with a few women bringing up the rear. At the Tandān’s house there is another meal, and then three, five, or seven houses are visited, and invitation to the wedding given in person. The proceedings for the day are then over, and, after three days, the brother-in-law, uncle, and all others receive invitations.

On the occasion of the marriage ceremony, the barber first shaves the bridegroom’s head, leaving the usual forelock on the crown, which is never cut. He performs the operation in a little shed to the east of the house, and a plantain leaf is placed so that the hair may fall on it. As a rule, the barber sits in front of the person whose hair he is shaving, while the latter, sitting cross-legged on the ground, bends forward. But, on this occasion, the bridegroom sits on a low wooden stool. Close by are a lamp and a measure of rice on a plantain leaf. The barber also shaves the two friends of the bridegroom (changathis), and receives a fanam and the rice for his trouble. The three youths then bathe, smear themselves with sandal paste, and proceed to dress. The bridegroom must wear round the loins a white cloth, new and unwashed. Round the top of the loin cloth he wears a narrow waist-band (kacha) of silk, from 14 to 21 cubits in length, with the ends hanging in front and behind. Over the shoulders is thrown a silk lace handkerchief. He puts in his ears gold ear-rings, round the neck a necklace called chakra (wheel) mala,[21] on the right wrist a gold bracelet, gold rings on the fingers, a gold or silver chain round the loins, and a gold or silver-handled knife with a sheath of the same metal. The two companions are dressed in much the same way, but they wear neither necklace nor bracelet. The women wear as many ornaments as they please. Sisters of the bridegroom must wear bracelets on both wrists, a necklace, and a silk cloth (virāli) on the shoulders. The bracelet worn by men is called vala, and must be made of one piece of metal. Those worn by women are called kadakam, and must be made in two pieces. When all are ready, mats, and other things are once more placed in the middle room, and the bridegroom and his two companions sit on the mats. They at once rise, and proceed to the little shed which has been erected in the front yard, and again seat themselves on the mats, which, with the other articles, have been brought thither from the middle room. Then the Tandān gives betel to the bridegroom and his two companions, who must chew it. The Tandān’s wife, the elder woman of the house, and the bridegroom’s sisters sprinkle rice on their heads. The Tandān gives a sword to the bridegroom and each of his companions. The procession then starts. In front walk two Nāyars supplied by the Koyma of the dēsam (represented by the Nāyar landlord). Then come the Tandān and a few elders, followed by the Tandān’s wife and some of the elder women, the bridegroom with his two companions, his sisters, and finally the general crowd. As the procession moves slowly on, there is much dancing, and swinging of swords and shields. At the bride’s house, the party is received by the wife of the Tandān of the tara holding a lighted lamp, the oldest woman of the family with a plate containing a measure of rice and a folded cloth, and another woman, who may be a friend, with a kindi of water. They sprinkle a little rice on the heads of the party as they enter the yard. The bridegroom sits on a mat, close to which the lamp and other articles are set. The bride’s Tandān takes charge of the swords, betel is distributed, and a hearty meal partaken of. The six cloths, which the bridegroom is required to bring are in reality three double cloths, one of which is for the use of the bride. It is the privilege of the bridegroom’s sisters and the Tandān’s wife to dress her. Her waist-cloth is tied in a peculiar way for the occasion, and she is enveloped from head to foot in a silken cloth, leaving only the eyes visible. The bridegroom, after his arrival at the bride’s house, has to put on a peculiar turban of conical shape, made of a stiff towel-like material, tied round with a silk handkerchief. The bridegroom’s sister leads the bride to the little shed (pandal) in the yard, and seats her behind the bridegroom. The kanam, and the remaining four cloths are then given by the bridegroom’s sister to the bride’s mother, and they, having tied a silk handkerchief across the body like a Brāhman’s thread, stand behind the bridegroom, the mother to the right and the sister to the left. The latter says three times “Let the kanam be given,” and hands it to the bride’s mother, who, as she receives it, says thrice “Let me receive the kanam.” The mother at once hands it over to her husband, or the senior male member of the family. The Tandān then places plantain leaves, for use as plates, before the bridegroom and his two companions, and, facing the bridegroom, holds a vessel of cooked rice in front of him. The bride’s mother, standing behind him, serves out thrice some rice out of the pot on to the leaf in front of the bridegroom, and the Tandān does the same for his two companions. The bride’s mother then mixes some plantains, pappadams (large thin biscuits), sugar, and ghī (clarified butter) with the rice on the bridegroom’s leaf-plate, and offers the food to him three times. She will not, however, allow him to taste it. It is taken from his lips, and removed by the washerwomen. The bridegroom’s sister has the same play with the bride. The rice, which has thus been made a feature of the ceremony, is called ayini. A few days prior to the marriage, two small bundles of betel leaves, each containing areca nuts, half a dozen tobacco leaves, and two fanams are given by the bridegroom to the Nāyar chieftain of the dēsam as his fee for furnishing an escort. In return for these offerings, he gives a new cloth to the bridegroom. Three measures of raw rice, ten or twelve pappadams, plantains, a cocoanut, and some dry uncooked curry-stuff are given by the bridegroom to each of the Nāyars provided as escort on the eve of the marriage. When they arrive on the scene on the wedding day, they are given some beaten rice, rice cakes, cocoanuts, plantains, and a drink of arrack (spirit). When the bride’s parents and relations come for the Vathil ceremony, the same escort is provided, and the same presents are given. Just as the bridegroom and all are ready to leave, the bride’s father’s sister’s son called the machunan, steps forward, and demands two fanams from the bridegroom’s party in return for permission to take away the bride. He gets his money, and the party starts for the bridegroom’s house, after rice has been sprinkled over the heads of the contracting couple, the sisters of the bridegroom leading the bride. The swords, which have been returned by the Tandān, are again used in flourishing and dancing en route.

It is a prevalent custom throughout Southern India that a girl’s father’s sister’s son has the first right to her hand in marriage. This obtains not only among the Dravidian peoples, but also among Brāhmans. The Malayālam word for son-in-law (marumakan) means nephew. If a stranger should marry a girl, he also is called nephew. But the unmarried nephew, having the first admitted right to the girl, must be paid eight annas, or two fanams, before he will allow her to be taken away. The argument is said to be as follows. A sister pays forty-two fanams as kanam for her brother’s wife. When the product, i.e., a daughter, is transferred to a stranger, the son claims compensation on his mother’s investment at the same rate as that at which a cocoanut tree is valued—eight annas. At all events, the nephew has the first right to a girl, and must be compensated before she can be taken away by another.

At the bridegroom’s house, the party is received by the wife of the Tandān and the lady of the house. Following the bride should come her parents and other relations, two Nāyars representing the chieftain, and the Tandān of his tara. The formalities with mats and rice are gone through as before. Rice is sprinkled over the heads, the Tandān receives the swords, and all sit in the shed. The ayini rice ceremony is repeated for the bride by the bridegroom’s mother and sisters. The happy pair then proceed to the inner room of the house, where sweetmeats are served to them. Then is observed, as a rule, the asaram or gift ceremony. Relations are expected to give 101 fanams (Rs. 25–4), but the poorest of them are allowed to reduce the gift to 21 fanams (Rs. 5–4), and the others give according to their means. These gifts are supposed to be repaid with interest. The Tandān sees that a regular account of all the gifts is made out, and handed over to the bridegroom, and receives eight annas for his trouble. The accountant who prepares the accounts, and the person who tests the genuineness of the coins, each receives a bundle of betel leaves, four areca nuts, and two tobacco leaves. Betel leaves, areca nuts, and tobacco, are also given to each giver of gifts. After this, there is the vatil or house ceremony. Two large bundles of betel leaves are prepared, each of which contains a thousand or fifteen hundred leaves, and with them are placed forty or fifty tobacco leaves, and seventy to a hundred areca nuts. The bride’s Tandān pays two or four rupees as vatil kanam to the Tandān of the bridegroom, who hands the money to the bridegroom’s father. The bridegroom then places one bundle of betel leaves, with half the tobacco and areca nuts, before the bride’s father, and the other before her mother, and they are distributed by the Tandān of the girl’s tara and his wife among the men and women who are present. Sweetmeats are then distributed, and the marriage ceremony is concluded. A formal visit must be made subsequently by the women of the bride’s house to the bridegroom’s, and is returned by the bride and bridegroom. The first visit is paid by a party consisting of the bride’s mother, her uncle’s and brother’s wives, the wife of the Tandān, and other relations. They are expected to bring with them plenty of sweetmeats and bread for general distribution. When the return visit is made by the bride and bridegroom, the sister of the latter, and other relations and friends, should accompany them, and they should take with them a lot of betel leaves, areca nuts, tobacco, and sweetmeats. This exchange of visits does not, however, complete those which are de rigueur. For, at the next Ōnam and Vishu festivals, the newly married couple should visit the house of the bride’s family. Ōnam is the beginning of the first harvest, and Vishu the agricultural new year. On these occasions, the bridegroom takes with him the inevitable betel leaves, and presents a new cloth to the parents of the bride and every one else in the house. When the annual Tiruvathira festival takes place between the betrothal and marriage ceremonies, the bridegroom is expected to send to the temple, through his Tandān and one of his own relations, a quantity of ripe and unripe plantains.

The ceremonies which have been described differ considerably from those of the Tiyans of North Malabar, where the marumakkatāyam law of inheritance obtains. These are very simple affairs.

In the Calicut tāluk, a man can marry only one wife at a time. But, when a wife is barren, a leper, or suffering from incurable disease, her husband may, with her formal permission, marry another wife. A bride may be of any age. Where there is no stipulation as to dowry, it is a point of honour to give the girl as many jewels as the bridegroom can afford. Widows may remarry.

Divorce is admissible, when the grounds for it are sufficient. And, when we find that incompatibility of temper is among these, it is safe to say that it is fairly easy of accomplishment. No specific reason need, in fact, be assigned. When it is the man who wishes to get rid of his wife, he must pay her all her expenses towards the marriage, as assessed by persons of the caste who fill the rôle of mediators. He has to give up jewels received from his wife’s family, and must, in some cases, pay the discarded wife something on account of her loss of virginity—a circumstance, which might make it difficult for her to obtain another husband. If the wife wishes to get rid of her husband, she must pay up all his expenses towards the marriage. The party found to be in the wrong must pay a fee of five to twenty rupees to the Tandān and all present, the relations excepted. The amount is distributed then and there. The procedure to be adopted in effecting divorce is as follows. The Tandāns of both sides, uncles and relations, and sometimes the fathers, assemble at the house of the wife, the Tandān, or one of the relations. To the left of a burning lamp are placed two small wooden stools. On one of these are laid a small towel with four fanams (one rupee) tied up in a corner of it, and another towel with a little rice and four fanams tied up in it. Close by is the other stool, on which the wife’s uncle stretches a single thread taken from his own cloth. The husband carries this stool to the gate, and says three times to the wife’s brother, father, or uncle—“Your sister’s (daughter’s or niece’s) matrimonial connection is severed.” He then blows away the thread, throws the stool down, and departs for ever. This little ceremony cannot be performed at the husband’s house, as it would involve perpetual banishment from his own house. The coins in the cloths go to the Tandāns. It is the uncle who gives these cloths, because it was he who received the two cloths at the conjee ceremony. A marriage cannot be dissolved unless both parties agree.

Tiya woman.

A girl is under pollution for four days from the commencement of the first menstrual period. During this time she must keep to the north side of the house, where she sleeps on a grass mat of a particular kind, in a room festooned with garlands of young cocoanut leaves. Round the mat is a narrow ridge made of paddy (unhusked rice), rice, and flowers of the cocoanut and areca palms. A lamp is kept burning, near which are placed the various articles already described in connection with marriage. Another girl keeps her company and sleeps with her, but she must not touch any other person, tree or plant. She further must not see the sky, and woe betide her if she catches sight of a crow or cat. Her diet must be strictly vegetarian, without salt, tamarinds, or chillies. She is armed against evil spirits with an iron knife carried on her person, or placed on the mat. On the first day, she is seated on a wooden stool in the yard to the east of the house. The fresh spathe of a cocoanut is cut in front of her. The bunch of blossoms is placed in a copper pot painted with perpendicular lines of chunam (lime), and a horizontal line at the top and bottom. The spathe of an areca palm is similarly treated, and, if the contents of both spathes are plentiful, it is regarded as a good augury of fertility. The wife of the girl’s uncle, or, if she is married, her husband’s sister pours some gingelly (Sesamum) oil over her head, on the top of which a gold fanam has been placed. Failing such relations, the wife of the Tandān officiates. The operation is repeated by two other women, relatives if possible. The oil is poured from a little cup made from a leaf of the jāk tree (Artocarpus integrifolia), flows over the forehead, and is received with the fanam in a dish. It is a good omen if the coin falls with the obverse upwards. Rice is cooked with jaggery, and given to the girl. The other women partake thereof, and then have a feast by themselves. The anointing with oil is the only bath the girl has until the fourth day. On the third day, she is not allowed to eat rice in any form, but she may partake of any other grain in the form of cakes. Her uncle’s wife, husband’s sister, and other relations, give her presents of cakes and bread. During the night, the māttu, or cloth-changing ceremony, takes place. First of all, the washerman comes along with the washerwoman, carrying two washed cloths. In the front yard of the house a lamp with an odd number of wicks is burning. In a bamboo basket are a small measure (edangāli) of paddy heaped up on a plantain leaf, a measure of rice on another leaf, two separate quarter measures thereof, a piece of turmeric, a little straw, a piece of coir (cocoanut fibre), and a cocoanut. As soon as he enters, the washerman, using the straw and coir skilfully, makes a bundle of the contents of the basket, and places it near the lamp, which is standing on a wooden stool. A cocoanut is cut in half, and placed, half on each side, by the stool. Thereon is set a flat bell-metal dish, containing a little rice and seven rolls of betel leaves and areca nuts. The washerwoman, having received the māttu from the woman, places it on his head and proceeds to sing a song, at the conclusion of which he says solemnly three times “Let me place the māttu.” He then places the cloths on the bundle, which is on the stool. The girl’s uncle’s wife, and four other women, have by this time emerged from the middle room of the house, carrying a lighted lamp, a plate with a measure of rice, and a kindi as before. The uncle’s wife, having covered her breast with a silk cloth, and wearing all her ornaments, leads the other four women as they walk thrice round the māttu. She then places a fanam (or a four-anna piece) on the māttu, lifts the stool, bundle and all, with one hand on the māttu and the other below the stool, and leads the procession of the women, with the lamp and other articles, to the room where the girl has been sleeping. She deposits her burden near the spot where the girl has laid her head. A general feast then takes place, and the washerman appropriates the fanam, and the paddy and rice spread in the yard. So ends the third day of these strange observances. On the fourth day, the girl bathes in a neighbouring pool, with some ceremonial. Before she leaves the house, the washerman fixes in the ground a branch of a certain tree, to the top and bottom of which he ties the two ends of a long line of thin coir rope or yarn. This is supposed to represent the bow of Kāma, the Indian Cupid. He erects a miniature temple-like structure of young cocoanut leaves, with the stems of young plantains near it, by the side of the pool. Close to it, he places a burning lamp, and a small quantity of rice and paddy, each on a separate plantain leaf. Near them he sets a cocoanut, which has been blackened with charcoal, on some rice spread on a plantain leaf, a cocoanut reddened with turmeric and chunam on raw rice, and another on a leaf, containing fried paddy.[22] He further deposits a few plantains, and two other cocoanuts. Before the girl leaves the house, clad in one of the cloths brought on the previous night, she is well rubbed all over with oil, and the four or six women[23] who accompany her are similarly treated. Leading the way, they are followed by a number of women to the pool, where the girl and her companions bathe. After the bath, they stand by the side of the pool, facing east and holding lighted cotton-wicks in their hands, and go round the miniature temple three times, throwing the wicks into it. The washerman again breaks out into song, accompanying himself by striking a bell-metal plate with a stick. When he has finished, and gone through a little more business on his own account, the girl’s husband or brother (if she is unmarried) appears on the scene. He holds aloft the coir string, under the lower end of which a cocoanut has been placed on the ground. The girl passes three times forwards and backwards without touching it. Two cotton wicks, lighted at both ends, are laid on the cocoanut, and the girl should cut the wicks and the cocoanut through, completely severing them, with one blow of a strong knife or chopper. If she is successful, the omen is considered good. The girl, with her party, then bathes a second time. As she comes out of the water, she kicks out backwards like a mule, and sends the stem with the single cocoanut attached flying into the water with her right foot. The second māttu cloth is then brought, and she is clad in it. Then she is full dressed and ornamented and led back to the house with a silk canopy over her head. She is taken to the middle room, and cakes and rice are given to her to eat. A feast is then held. The girl has so far been purified as regards most affairs of life, but she cannot touch any cooking-vessel until she has undergone yet another ceremony. This takes place on the seventh or ninth day after the first appearance of the menses. Every day until then the girl is rubbed with gingelly oil and turmeric. Three ordinary earthenware cooking-pots are piled, one above the other, in the kitchen. The uppermost pot contains cooked rice, the middle one rice boiled with jaggery, and the lowest curry. The pots must be new, and are marked with perpendicular daubs of chunam. Seated on a low wooden stool to the west of the pots, the girl, facing the east, touches each pot with a knife. When the first of all these menstruation ceremonies has taken place at the house of the girl’s husband, her mother brings some cakes on this last day. If it has been performed at her father’s house, her husband’s sister should bring the cakes. They are distributed among all present, and a small meal is partaken of. All the expenses of the first, and seventh or ninth day ceremonies, are borne by the people of the house, who may be those of the family of the girl’s father or husband. The expenses of the ceremonial of the fourth day are defrayed by the girl’s husband if they have been performed at her father’s house, and vice versâ.

The young wife has an easy time of it until the fifth month of her pregnancy, when she must again submit to becoming the subject for ceremonial. Then takes place the Belikala, for the purpose of appeasing some of the many malignant spirits, who are unceasing in their attempts to destroy infants in the womb. This consists for the most part of offerings, which are repeated in the seventh month. They are performed by members of the Mannān (washerman) and Pānan (exorcists and devil-dancers) castes. At the commencement thereof, there is a feast. A structure, in shape something like a Muhammadan taboot,[24] about five feet in height, is erected in the front yard of the house. It is made of stems of young plantain trees, and festooned with leaves of young cocoanut palms. The floor of the little edifice, and the ground outside it to the west, are strewn with charcoal made from paddy husk, on which are made magic squares of white rice flour, intermingled with red, green, and yellow, each colour being compounded with specified substances. The squares are not always the same, but are prepared for each occasion, so as to suit the particular spirit which is to be invoked and appeased. The pregnant woman, with six female companions, leaves the middle room of the house, carrying the usual lamp and other articles, and they walk seven times round the edifice. Before completing the last round, each throws into it a burning wick. They then stand to the west of it, facing east, and sit down. The Mannāns invoke the spirit in song, accompanied by the clang of metal plates beaten with sticks. Drums must not be used. The music and weird devil-dancing go on more or less all night, and by morning some of the most nervous of the women, overcome by the spirit, go into fits. The fees for the devil-dancing are paid by the pregnant woman’s father. Last of all, a live cock is held against the forehead of the woman, mantrams (magical formulæ) are repeated, and rice is thrown over her head. If she should have a fit, the head of the cock is cut off, and the blood offered to the demon spirit. If, however, she does not suffer from undue excitement, the cock is simply removed alive. She is left in peace for the next two months, when she goes to her father’s house, at which there is more devil-dancing at another Belikala ceremony. The fees are paid by the woman’s husband. They vary from five to thirty-two rupees, according to the cost of the edifice which is erected, and the quality of the dancing. The invocation of some of the devils requires specially trained dancers who must be paid high fees. On the morning following the dance, the tamarind juice drinking ceremony takes place at the house of the woman’s father. The fees in connection with this are debited to the husband. Taking advantage of an auspicious moment, the husband and two companions bathe in the early morning, and make a neat toilette, the husband wearing a necklace. They then go to the nearest tamarind, and pluck three small leafy twigs, which they bring to the house. The husband’s sister pounds the leaves in a mortar in a little shed or pandal in the front yard. The juice is then strained through a new double cloth eight cubits in length by the husband’s sisters. If he has no sisters, this should be done by his and his wife’s mothers. Rice conjee is then prepared with water, in which the tamarind juice has been mixed. The husband, and his two companions, sit under the pandal, where the usual lamp and other articles have been placed, with the wife behind him. Her brother then feeds him thrice with the conjee from a small gold spoon. The husband’s sister feeds the wife in like manner. One of the three twigs is planted by the husband in the front yard, and his wife waters it every day until the child is born. In the ninth month, the husband’s sister presents his wife with a couple of pounds of cummin seed and jaggery. The woman who brings this little gift should be given some cakes and sweetmeats. During pregnancy, a woman always wears an amulet concealed within a cylindrical tube on her neck, to protect her against malignant spirits.

The young wife’s child is born at her father’s house, where she is under the care of her mother. When the child is born, the brother of the newly made mother goes out into the yard, and strikes the ground three times with the stem of a dry cocoanut palm leaf. If the child is a boy, he emits a long drawn out ku-u-u-u in high falsetto as he does so. It is then the duty of the brother and the midwife to go and inform the father of the event. The midwife receives from him her fee, and a present of a cloth, and other presents from his sisters. If the child is a boy, the brother receives a cloth, and, if a girl, a cloth and a bell-metal plate.

The event of the birth of a child carries with it, as in the case of death, pollution to every one in the house. This is partially removed by ceremonies on the third day, and wholly by further ceremonies on the ninth or eleventh day, whichever happens to be the more auspicious—a Tuesday for example. Any one coming to the house before the first ceremonies have taken place must bathe and wash his or her cloth to remove the pollution. Any one visiting the house after the first, but before the second ceremony, need not bathe, but cannot eat any food in the house. The men of the household can get no rice at home until after the second ceremony has been performed, and they are consequently compelled to board elsewhere for the time being. A washerwoman carries out the purification rites, assisted by a barber woman. First of all, the floors of all the rooms are smeared with cow-dung. All clothes in use are given to the washerwoman. The women rub their bodies all over with oil, and the washerwoman brings māttu for them. The barber woman sprinkles a mixture of cow’s milk and karuka grass leaves over the women, who then go to a pool and bathe. When the milk is about to be sprinkled, the usual lamp, rice on a metal plate, and kindi of water are produced. The barber woman takes the rice and one fanam, and receives also some cocoanut and gingelly (Sesamum) oil. Much the same things are given to the washerwoman. The second ceremony is just like the first, but, even after its completion, the women of the house cannot touch any cooking-vessels until after the fifteenth day. The ceremony of touching the cooking pots, as at the time of the first menstrual period, is then performed. These three purificatory ceremonies must be performed after every birth.

On the twenty-seventh or fortieth day after the birth of a child, the mother and the infant are taken back to the husband’s house, and cow’s milk is for the first time given to the child. This event, which has all the solemnity of a regular function, takes place in the middle room, where the lamp, mat and other articles have been arranged. The child’s paternal grandfather, father’s elder brother, or other senior man administers the milk, which has been boiled. A gold bracelet is dipped in it, and the drops of milk are made to fall into the child’s mouth. As this is being done, the celebrant whispers in the child’s right ear the name which will be formally given to it in the sixth month. The eldest son is always named after the paternal grandfather, and the second after the father. In like manner, the eldest girl is named after its own mother. Relations and friends take this opportunity to make presents of bracelets and other articles to the infant. A feast is then held. After the ceremony is over, the parents of the child’s mother have to send about half a bag of rice flour mixed with jaggery to her husband’s house.

For the first six months of its life, a child’s food consists of nature’s fount and cow’s milk. It is then, before the sixth month is over, given boiled rice for the first time. The ceremony takes place either in the middle room of its father’s house, or at a temple. The child’s grandfather, or the eldest male member of the family, sits on a mat, and takes the child in his lap. With a gold ring he applies honey three times to its mouth, and then gives it a little rice three times. Female relations who are present follow his example, giving the child first honey, and then rice. Several women, with the lighted lamp and other articles, carry the child into the yard, to show it the sky. They go round a cocoanut tree, and stand before the front door, facing west. An elder among the women of the house stands at the front door, calls out the name of the child three times, and asks it to come inside. The relations give little presents of ornaments, and there is a feast.

It will be observed that even a child’s life is not entirely free from ceremonial. When it has grown up, it undergoes more of it, and, when it has lived its course on earth, is the subject of still more ceremonial long after it is dead. All these affairs involve some expenditure, but the one which literally runs away with money is marriage. The others are not extravagances, nor are they as costly as might be implied from the continual feasting of a large number of people. We must not think of these feasts as of a banquet at the Carlton, but as simple affairs, at which simple people are content with simple though pleasing fare.

When a child is provided by nature with teeth, it is the subject of a little ceremony, during which it is expected to disclose its natural propensities. The usual mat and other articles are arranged, and there are in addition a large flat bell-metal plate containing a rice cake, a knife, a palmyra leaf grantham (book), a cocoanut, and a gold ornament. The child is let loose, and allowed to pick out anything from the plate. If it takes the cake, it will be greedy; if the knife, brave; if the book, learned; if the cocoanut, a landlord; and, if the gold ornament, rich.

A child’s head is shaved in the third or fifth year. The barber, who performs the operation, is allowed to take away the rice which, with the lamp, is at hand. He also receives a fanam and a new cloth. The people of the child’s mother bring rice cakes.

The last day of the Dasara festival in the fifth year of a child’s life is that on which instruction in the alphabet begins. A teacher, who has been selected with care, or a lucky person holds the child’s right hand, and makes it trace the fifty-one letters of the Malayālam alphabet on raw rice spread on a plate. The fore-finger, which is the one used in offering water to the souls of the dead and in other parts of the death ceremonies, must not be used for tracing the letters, but is placed above the middle finger, merely to steady it. For the same reason, a doctor, when making up a pill, will not use the fore-finger. When, later on, the child goes to the village school, the fifty-one letters are written one by one on its tongue with a gold style, if one is available. As each letter is formed, the child has to repeat the sound of it.

The lobes of both a child’s ears are bored with a golden pin or a thorn. The helix of the ear is not bored for the purpose of inserting ornaments in it, but is sometimes bored as a remedy for disease, e.g., hernia. Everywhere else in Southern India, it is common for people of almost every class to have the helix of the left ear bored.

The tāli-tying ceremony must be performed before a girl attains puberty. The Tiyan tāli is usually of gold, and worth about half-a-crown. It is not the one which is worn in every day life, but the one which is used in the ceremony about to be described. Throughout Southern India, the tāli is the ordinary symbol of marriage among Hindus, and it is even worn by Syrian Christians. In Malabar, and the Native States of Cochin and Travancore, it is a symbol of marriage, with which a girl is ceremoniously adorned, as a rule before she is affianced. The ceremony occupies three days, on the last of which the tāli is tied. On the first day, a shed or pandal is erected in the front yard. Within it a similar structure is prepared with the leaves of an areca palm, which has been cut down at an auspicious moment, and with the formal sanction of the Tandān of the tara. This inner pandal is tastefully decorated with pictures and flowers. It is important to note that this little pandal must not be begun until the first day of the ceremony. On this day, the carpenter of the tara brings a low wooden seat, rather long and narrow, made from the pala tree (Alstonia scholaris), which must be cut at an auspicious moment, for which he receives one fanam. This seat is called mana.[25] A grass mat is spread in the middle room of the house, with a white cloth over it, on which the mana is placed. A lamp, vessel of water, and the usual paraphernalia are arranged on the ground to the south close by. When these preliminaries have been completed, the girl is brought by the uncle’s wife to the pandal, and seated on a stool. In front of her, a lamp, and other things which are a feature in all ceremonials, and a measure of paddy are placed on the ground, a gold fanam is put on her head, and over it gingelly oil is poured. As the coin falls from the forehead, it is caught in a cup. It is important which side falls uppermost. The girl is then taken to a pool for bathing, and returns to the pandal. She is conducted to the middle room of the house in procession, with a silk canopy over her head and women carrying lamps, etc. She is confined in this room, which is decorated in the manner described when speaking of the menstruation ceremony, until the third day. She sleeps on a mat, surrounded by a little ridge of rice and paddy, cocoanut and areca palm flowers, and near her head is a copper pot marked with vertical daubs of white. The blacksmith of the tara brings a little stick, called charathkot, with an iron blade at one end, which is supposed to represent an arrow of Kāma. This the girl keeps constantly at her side, and carries in her hand when compelled by nature to leave the room. While confined in the room, she is not allowed to eat fish, flesh, or salt, or see any animals, especially a cat, dog, or crow. On the third day, the tāli is prepared on the spot by the village goldsmith. The girl’s uncle gives him the gold, which he melts, and works at in the pandal at an auspicious moment. The paddy and rice, which, with the lamp and vessel of water, have been in evidence during the operations, are given to the goldsmith, with a fanam for his labour. A weaver brings two new cloths, of a particular kind called mantra-kodi, for which the girl’s uncle pays. One is worn by the girl, and the mana is covered with the other. The girl is taken to bathe, and, after the bath, is richly dressed and ornamented, and brought in procession, with a canopy over her head, to the house, where she is conducted to the inner room. The mana is then placed, with the cloth near it, on a grass mat in the inner pandal. The uncle’s wife sits on the mat, and the uncle lifts the girl, carries her three times round the pandal, and deposits her in his wife’s lap. The astrologer, who is present, indicates the moment when the tāli should be tied. The girl’s father gives him a fanam, and receives from him a little rice, called muhurtham (auspicious time). When the psychological moment has arrived he sprinkles the rice on the girl’s head, saying “It is time.” The tāli is then tied round the girl’s neck by the uncle’s wife. At the upper end of the tāli is a ring, through which the thread passes. The thread which is used for the purpose is drawn from the cloth with which the mana has been covered. [It is odd that there are some families of Nāyars, who are not allowed to use a tāli with a ring to receive the string, and are therefore obliged to make a hole in the tāli itself.] As soon as the tāli has been tied on the girl’s neck, a number of boys burst into song, praising Ganapathi (the elephant god), and descriptive of the marriage of King Nala and Damayanti, or of Sri Krishna and Rukmani. Every one joins in, and the song ends with shouts and hurrahs. A mock feeding ceremony is then carried out. Three plantain leaves are spread in front of the girl in the pandal, and rice, plantains, and pappadams are spread thereon. The uncle’s wife offers some of each to the girl three times, but does not allow her to touch it with her lips. The girl is then taken to a temple, to invoke the God’s blessing.

The description which has just been given is that of the ceremony which is performed, if the girl has not been affianced. If a husband has been arranged for her, it is he who ties the tāli, and his sister takes the place of the uncle’s wife. Otherwise the ceremony is the same, with this difference, however, that, when the husband ties the tāli, there can be no divorce, and the girl cannot remarry in the event of his death.

In North, as in South Malabar, the tāli-tying ceremony is always performed before puberty, and occupies four days. This is the orthodox procedure. The girl wears a cloth provided by the washerwoman. She is taken from the middle room of the house to the yard, and there seated on a plank of pala wood. Placed in front of her are a small measure of rice and paddy, a washed white cloth, and a small bell-metal vessel (kindi) on a bell-metal plate. The barber pours cocoanut water on her head, on which a silver and copper coin have been placed. One of her relations then pours water from a vessel containing some raw rice over her head, using two halves of a cocoanut as a spout. The girl is then taken back to the middle room, where she remains for three days. There is a feast in the evening. On the fourth day, a pandal is erected in the front yard, and decorated. The girl is taken to bathe at a neighbouring pool, preceded by women carrying a lamp, a kindi of water, and other things which have been already described. During her absence, the barber performs pūja to Ganapathi in the pandal. After bathing, she cuts a cocoanut in half, and returns in procession, with a silk canopy over her head, amid music and singing, and enters the middle room of the house. The barber woman ties a gold ornament (netti pattam) on her forehead, which she marks with sandal paste, and blackens her eyes with eye-salve. The uncle’s wife, preceded by women bearing a lamp and other articles, carries the mana, covered with cloth, from the middle room to the pandal. She walks three times round the pandal, and places the mana on a grass mat, over which has been spread some paddy and some rice where the girl will put her foot. The women who have carried the lamp, etc., return to the room, and escort the girl to the pandal. She walks thrice round it, and takes her seat on the mana. The barber hands her a little rice, which she throws on the lighted lamp, and articles which have been used in the pūja to Ganapathi, and on the post supporting the south-west corner of the pandal. This post should be of pala wood, or have a twig of that tree tied to it. More rice is handed to the girl, and she throws it to the cardinal points of the compass, to the earth, and to the sky. A small earthen pot containing rice, a cocoanut, betel, and areca nuts, is placed near the girl. Into this a variety of articles, each tied up separately in a piece of plantain leaf, are placed. These consist of a gold coin, a silver coin, salt, rice, paddy, turmeric, charcoal, and pieces of an old cadjan leaf from the thatch of the house. The mouth of the pot is then covered over with a plantain leaf tied with string. The girl sprinkles rice three times over the pot, makes a hole in the leaf, and picks out one of the articles, which is examined as an augur of her destiny. Betel leaves and areca nuts are then passed twice round her head, and thrown away. She next twists off a cocoanut from a bunch hanging at a corner of the pandal. Then follows the presentation of cloths called mantra-kodi. These must be new, and of a particular kind. Each of her relations throws one of these cloths over the girl’s head. Half of them (perhaps ten or twelve) go to the barber, who, at this point, pours cocoanut water from the leaf of a banyan tree on her head, on which a silver and copper coin have been placed. The astrologer is then asked whether it is time to tie the tāli, and replies three times in the affirmative. The barber woman hands the tāli strung on a thread to the girl’s uncle’s wife, who ties it round the girl’s neck. The barber woman then pours water on the girl’s hands. Three times the water is flung upwards, and then to the east, west, south, and north. A cotton wick, steeped in oil, is then twisted round a piece of bamboo, and stuck on a young cocoanut. The girl is asked if she sees the sun, looks at the lighted wick, and says that she does. She is then taken to a cocoanut tree, preceded by the lamp, etc. She walks three times round the tree, and pours water over the root. The ceremony is now concluded, and the girl is marched back to the middle room.

A variation of the tāli-tying ceremony, as performed in Chavakad on the coast between Calicut and Cochin, may be briefly described, because it possesses some interesting features. It is always done by the intended husband, or some one representing him. Seven days prior to the beginning of the ceremony, the carpenter of the tara, with the permission of the Tandān (here called Avakāsi), cuts down an areca palm, and fixes part of it as the south-east post of the booth, at which the tāli will be tied. On the sixth day, the girl is formally installed in the middle room of the house. The carpenter brings a mana of pala wood, the cost of which is paid by the father, and does pūja to it. The bridegroom’s party arrive. A lamp is lighted in the booth, which is at this time partly, but not entirely, made ready. Near the lamp are placed a measure of paddy, half a measure (nāzhi) of rice, a looking-glass, a kindi of water, and a wooden cheppu (a rude vessel with a sliding cover). The wives of the Tandān and uncle, together with some other women, bring the girl, and seat her on the mana. The uncle’s wife parts her hair, and places a gold fanam on her crown. The Tandān’s wife then pours a little oil on it over a leaf of the jāk tree three times. The other women do the same. The girl is then taken to a pool, and bathed. Before her return, the mana should be placed ready for her in the middle room of the house. In the evening there is a feast. On the day but one following, the tāli is tied. The last post of the booth is put up, and it is completed and decorated on the tāli-tying day. A lamp, looking-glass, and other things are put in it. A grass mat is spread on the floor, and a kambli (blanket) and a whitewashed cloth are placed over it. On either side of it is placed a pillow. The bridegroom and his party wait in an adjoining house, for they must not appear on the scene until the psychological moment arrives. The Tandān of the bridegroom’s tara, with a few friends, comes first, and hands over two cloths and ten rupees eight annas to the bride’s Tandān. The girl is dressed in one of these cloths, and led to the booth, the bridegroom’s sister holding her by the hand. She sits on the mana, which has been brought, and placed on the cloth, by her uncle. The bridegroom comes in procession, carried on his uncle’s shoulders. The girl is still a child, and he is only a few years her senior. His uncle puts him down on the right side of the girl, after walking thrice round the booth. The girl’s uncle’s wife sits close to her, on the other side, on the mana. Her father asks the astrologer three times if it is the proper time to tie the tāli, and is answered thrice in the affirmative. Then the boy bridegroom ties the tāli on the girl’s neck. The boy and girl sing out a chorus in praise of Ganapathi, and end up with three loud shouts and hurrahs. Then the boy seats himself on the ground, outside the pillow. The girl is taken inside the house, and, after a general feast, is brought back, and seated on the mana, and rice and flowers are sprinkled. No money is paid to the uncle’s son, as at Calicut. The boy bridegroom pays eight annas to his sister for leading the bride by the hand. When the marriage has been done by proxy, the boy bridegroom is selected from a tarwad into which the girl might marry. He stays at the girl’s house for three days, and, on the fourth day, the boy and girl are taken to a temple. A formal divorce is effected, and the boy is taken away.

Tiyans.

It will not be worth while to attempt a description of the marriage ceremony of the Tiyans of North Malabar, because there is none, or next to none. There the Tiyans and all classes, including even the Muhammadan Māppillas, follow the rule of marumakkatāyam, or inheritance through females from uncle to nephew. The children have no right to their father’s property. Either party may annul the marital union at will, without awarding any compensation; and, as its infraction is easy and simple, so is its institution. Nor is there any rigid inquiry as to the antecedents of either party. It is an affair of mutual arrangement, attended with little formality. Proceeding to the girl’s house, accompanied by a few friends, the intending husband takes with him a couple of cloths, one for the girl, and the other for her mother. In parts of North Malabar, the Tiyan women wear an ornament called chittu (ring) in a hole bored in the top of the helix of each ear. The holes are bored in childhood, but the chittu is not worn until the girl forms a marital union with a man. The chittus are made on the spot at the time, in the marriage pandal erected for the occasion, the girl’s uncle providing the gold. They are never removed during life, except in cases of dire distress. “To sell chittu” is equivalent to having become a pauper. It is supposed that, in olden days, the marriage ceremonies lasted over seven days, and were subsequently reduced to seven meals, or three and a half days, and then to one day. Now the bridegroom remains the first night at the bride’s house, and then takes her to his home. Before they leave, a cocoanut, the outer husk of which has been removed, is placed on a stool of pala wood, and one of the bridegroom’s party must smash it with his fist. Some of the more orthodox in North Malabar observe the formality of examining horoscopes, and a ceremony equivalent to the conjee-drinking ceremony which has been described, called achāra kaliāna, and the payment of kanam in the shape of forty-one fanams, instead of forty-two as in South Malabar. In connection with fanams it may be noted that the old gold fanam is reckoned as worth four annas, whereas five silver or velli fanams make a rupee. Everywhere in rural Malabar, calculations are made in terms of velli fanams thus:—

• 10 pice (1/12 of an anna) = 1 velli.
• 5 vellis = 1 rupee.

Bazaar men, and those who sell their small stock at the weekly markets all about the country, arrange their prices in vellis.

When the death of a Tiyan is expected, all the relations draw near, and await the fateful moment. The person who is about to die is laid on the floor of the middle room, for it is inauspicious to die on a cot. We will suppose that the dying man is a parent and a landlord. Each of the sons and daughters gives him a little conjee water, just before he passes away. At the moment of death, all the women bawl out in lamentations, giving the alarm of death. The Cheruman serfs in the fields join in the chorus, and yell out an unintelligible formula of their own. Absent relations are all formally invited. From the houses of the son’s wife and daughter’s husband are sent quantities of jāk fruits, unripe plantains, and cocoanuts, as death gifts. One half of the husks of the cocoanuts is removed, and the other half left on the shell. After the cremation or burial, these articles are distributed among those present by the Tandān, who receives an extra share for his trouble. When life is extinct, the body is placed with the head to the south, and the thumbs and big toes are tied together. It is then taken out into the yard, washed, bathed in oil, dressed in a new cloth, and brought back to the middle room. A cocoanut is cut in two, and the two halves, with a lighted wick on each, are placed at the head and foot. The house-owner spreads a cotton cloth over the corpse, and all the relations, and friends, do the same. Any one who wishes to place a silk cloth on the corpse may do so, but he must cover it with a cotton cloth. The body is then removed for burial or cremation, and placed near the grave or funeral pyre. It is the rural rule that elderly persons and karnavans of tarwads are cremated, and others buried. The barber, whose function it is to perform the purificatory rites, now removes, and retains as his perquisite, all the cloths, except the last three covering the corpse. As it is being borne away to the place of burial or cremation, water mixed with cow-dung is sprinkled behind it in the yard. The eldest son, who succeeds to the property and is responsible for the funeral ceremonies, then tears crosswise a piece of the cloth which has been placed over the corpse by the people of the house, and ties it round his forehead. He holds one end of the cloth while the barber holds the other, and tears off the piece. The barber then cuts three holes in the remainder of this cloth covering the body, over the mouth, navel, and pubes. A little water and rice are poured over a gold fanam through the slit over the mouth. All who observe the death pollution, i.e., sons, grandsons, nephews, younger brothers and cousins, offer water and rice in the same manner, and walk three times round the grave or pyre. The barber then breaks a pot of water over the grave. No other ceremonial is observed on this day, on which, and during the night, rice must not be eaten. If the body has been cremated, a watch is kept at the burning ground for five days by Pānans, who beat drums all night to scare away the evil spirits which haunt such spots. Early on the second day, all who are under pollution are shaved. The operation is attended with some ceremonial, and, before it is commenced, a lighted lamp, a measure of rice and paddy on a plantain leaf must be at hand. The paddy and rice are a perquisite of the barber. Those who have been shaved bathe, and then follows the crow-feeding ceremony. Rice is boiled in a bell-metal vessel over a hearth prepared with three young cocoanuts. The eldest son, who tore the cloth of succession from the corpse, makes the rice into two little balls, places them on a plantain leaf, and offers them to the spirit of the departed by pouring libations of water on them over a blade of karuka grass. Men and women who are under pollution then do the same. The rice balls are eaten by crows. This little ceremony is performed daily until the eleventh or thirteenth day, when the period of death pollution comes to an end. If the eleventh day happens to fall on a Tuesday or Friday, or on any inauspicious day, the period is extended to the thirteenth day. When the period of death pollution is partly in one month, and partly in another, another death in the house within the year is expected. Preceding the sanchayanam, which occupies the fifth day, there is the lamp-watching on the previous night. In the south-east corner of the middle room, a little paddy is heaped up, and on it is placed a bell-metal plate with an iron lamp having five or seven lighted wicks on it. Under the lamp is a little cow-dung, and close to it is a bunch of cocoanut flowers. The lamp must be kept burning until it is extinguished on the following day. In the case of the death of a male, his niece watches the lamp, and in that of a female her daughter, lying near it on a grass mat. The sanchayanam is the first stage in the removal of death pollution, and, until it is over, all who come to the house suffer from pollution, and cannot enter their own house or partake of any food without bathing previously. When the body has been cremated, the fragments of calcined bones are collected from the ashes, and carried in procession to the sea, or, if this is far away, into a river. The members of the family under pollution then rub their bodies all over with oil, and the barber sprinkles a mixture of cow’s milk over their heads, using a blade of karuka grass as a spout. They then bathe, and the eldest son alone observe māttu. The crow-feeding ceremony follows, and, when this is over, the three cocoanuts which were used as a hearth are thrown away. A large bell-metal vessel filled with water is now placed in the front yard before the door of the house. The barber carries the still burning lamp from the middle room, and sets it on the ground near the pot of water. The women who are under pollution come from the middle room, each carrying a lighted wick, walk thrice round the pot, and throw the wicks into the water. The woman who has watched the lamp puts four annas into the pot, and the others deposit a few pies therein. The eldest son now lights a wick from the iron lamp which is about to be extinguished, and with it lights a lamp in the middle room. The barber then dips the iron lamp in the water, and picks out the money as his perquisite. The water is poured on the roots of a cocoanut tree. The bell-metal vessel becomes the property of the woman who watched the lamp, but she cannot take it away until she leaves the house after the pula-kuli ceremony. When the lamp has been extinguished, a woman, hired for the occasion, is seated on a cocoanut leaf in the front yard. The Tandān pours oil on her head three times, and she receives a little betel and two annas. She rises, and leaves the place without turning back, taking the pollution with her. Betel is then distributed. Those who provided the death gifts on the day of the death must on this day bring with them a bag of rice, and about four rupees in money. They have also to give eight annas to the barber. A folded handkerchief is first presented to the barber, who formally returns it, and receives instead of it the eight annas. Before the people disperse, the day of the pula-kuli is settled. Pula-kuli, or washing away the pollution, is the final ceremony for putting off the unpleasant consequences of a death in a family. First of all, the members thereof rub themselves all over with oil, and are sprinkled by the barber with cow’s milk and gingelly oil. They then bathe. The barber outlines the figure of a man or woman, according to the sex of the deceased, with rice flour and turmeric powder, the head to the south, in the middle room of the house. The figure is covered with two plantain leaves, on each of which a little rice and paddy are heaped. Over all is spread a new cloth, with a basket containing three measures of paddy upon it. The eldest son (the heir) sits facing the south, and with a nāzhi measures out the paddy, which he casts to the south, east, and west—not the north. He repeats the performance, using the fingers of the left hand closed so as to form a cup as a measure. Then, closing the first and fourth fingers firmly with the thumb, using the left hand, he measures some paddy in the same manner with the two extended fingers. Rice is treated in the same way. A nāzhi of paddy, with a lighted wick over it, is then placed in a basket. The eldest son takes the nāzhi in his left hand, passes it behind his body, and, receiving it with his right hand, replaces it in the basket. The wick is extinguished by sprinkling it with water three times. At the head of the figure on the floor is placed a clean cloth—the washerman’s māttu. It is folded, and within the folds are three nāzhis of rice. On the top of it a cocoanut is placed. In the four corners a piece of charcoal, a little salt, a few chillies, and a gold fanam are tied. The eldest son, who is always the protagonist in all the ceremonies after death, lifts the cloth with all its contents, places it on his head, and touches with it his forehead, ears, each side and loins, knees and toes. He does this three times. The plantain leaves are then removed from the figure. A little turmeric powder is taken from the outline, and rubbed on the forehead of the eldest son. He then bows thrice to the figure, crossing his legs and arms so that the right hand holds the left ear, and the left the right ear, and touches the ground with the elbow-joints. It is no joke to do this. All this time, the eldest son wears round his forehead the strip torn from the cloth which covered the corpse. There is nothing more to be done in the middle room for the present, and the eldest son goes out into the yard, and cooks the rice for the final feed to the crows. Three nāzhis of this rice must be pounded and prepared for cooking by the woman who watched the lamp on the fourth night after death. Having cooked the rice, the eldest son brings it into the middle room, and mixes it with some unrefined sugar, plantains and pappadams, making two balls, one large and one small. Each of these he places on a plantain leaf. Then some pūja is done to them, and offerings of rice are made over a gold fanam. The balls are given to the crows in the yard, or, in some cases, taken to the sea or a river, and cast into the water. When this course is adopted, various articles must be kept ready ere the return of the party. These comprise a new pot containing water, a branch of areca blossoms, mango leaves, a kindi containing a gold fanam or gold ring, a little salt and rice, each tied up in a piece of cloth, and a few chillies. The mouth of the pot is covered with a plantain leaf, and secured. There are also two stools, made of pala and mango wood. The eldest son sits on one of these, and places his feet on the other, so that he does not touch the ground. The water in the pot is sprinkled with mango leaves by the barber to the north, south, east and west, and on the head of the son. The remainder of the water is then poured over his head. The barber then sprinkles him with cocoanut water, this time using areca blossoms, and makes him sip a little thereof. The barber makes a hole in the plantain leaf, and picks out the contents. The eldest son bathes, and after the bath there is a presentation of gifts. The barber, sitting in the verandah beside the son, first gives to each person under pollution a little salt and raw rice, which they eat. He then gives them a little betel leaf and a small piece of areca nut, and receives in return a quarter of an anna. The eldest son chews the betel which he has received, and spits into a spittoon held by the barber, whose property it becomes. Then to the barber, who has been presented with a new mat to sit on and new cloth to wear before he seats himself in the verandah, are given an ear-ring such as is worn by Tiyan women, a silk cloth, a white cotton cloth, and a few annas. If the deceased has been cremated he is given six fanams, and, if buried, five fanams as the fee for his priestly offices. On an occasion of this kind, several barbers, male and female, turn up in the hope of receiving presents. All who help during the various stages of the ceremonial are treated in much the same way, but the senior barber alone receives the officiating fee. It is odd that the barbers of the four surrounding villages are entitled to receive gifts of new cloths and money. Those under death pollution are forbidden to eat fish or flesh, chew betel, or partake of jaggery. The restriction is removed on the pula-kuli day. The last act for their removal is as follows. The barber is required to eat some jaggery, and drink some conjee. After this, the eldest son, the Tandān, and a neighbour, sit on a mat spread in the middle of the house, and formally partake of conjee and jaggery. The pula-kuli is then over.

It is a sacred duty to a deceased person who was one of importance, for example the head of a family, to have a silver image of him made, and arrange for it being deposited in some temple, where it will receive its share of pūja (worship), and offerings of food and water. The new-moon day of the months Karkitakam (July-August), Tulam (October-November), and Kumbham (February-March) is generally selected for doing this. The temples at Tirunelli in Wynād and Tirunavayi, which are among the oldest in Malabar, were generally the resting-places of these images, but now some of the well-to-do deposit them much further afield, even at Benares and Rāmēsvaram. A silver image is presented to the local Siva temple, where, for a consideration, pūja is done every new-moon day. On each of these days, mantrams are supposed to be repeated a thousand times. When the image has been the object of these mantrams sixteen thousand times, it is supposed to have become eligible for final deposit in a temple. It is this image which rests in the temple at Tirunavayi, or elsewhere.

An annual srādh ceremony is performed for the sake of the spirit of the deceased, at which crows are fed in the manner already described, and relations are fed. On the night of this day, some sweetmeats or cakes, such as the deceased was fond of during life, are offered to the spirit. A lamp is placed on a stool, and lighted in the middle room of the house, with a kindi of water and a young cocoanut near it. The cakes or sweetmeats are placed in front of the stool. Children sprinkle rice over it, and the door is shut for a quarter of an hour. The individual who feeds the crows should partake of only one meal, without fish or flesh, on the previous day. Another ceremony, which is necessary for the repose of the dead, is called badha-velichatu-variethal, or bringing out the spirit. It cannot be performed until at least a year after death, for during that period the spirit is in a sort of purgatory. After that, it may be invoked, and it will answer questions. The ceremony resembles the nelikala pregnancy ceremony. The performers are Pānans or washermen. Some little girls are seated in front of a booth in the yard. The celebrant of the rite sings, invoking the spirit of the deceased. Late at night, one of the girls becomes possessed by the spirit, and, it is said, talks and acts just like the deceased, calling the children, relations and friends by name, talking of the past, and giving commands for the future conduct of the living members of the family. After this, the spirit is severed from earthly trammels, and attains heavenly bliss.

The wood used for the purpose of cremation is that of a mango tree, which must be cut down after the death. A little sandalwood and cuscus (grass) roots are sometimes added to the pyre. In these days, when the important and interesting features of ceremonial are fast disappearing, it is not surprising that dried cakes of cow-dung are superseding the mango wood.

Among other ceremonies, there is one called kutti pūja, which is performed when a newly built house is taken charge of. Vastu Purusha is the name of the supreme being which, lying on its back with its head to the north-east and legs to the south-west, supports the earth. Or rather the earth is but a small portion of this vast body. Forests are its tiny hairs, oceans its blood-vessels, and the wind its breath. In this body are fifty-three deities, who are liable to disturbance when the surface of the earth is dug, when trees are felled, foundations laid, and a house built. These angry beings must be propitiated, or there will be untimely deaths, poverty, and sickness among the inmates. The ceremony is performed in the following manner. A square with fifty-three columns is made with rice flour in the middle room of the house, and each column is filled with yellow, red, and black powder. A plantain leaf is placed over it, and a few measures of paddy are set on the top of the leaf. On this is placed another leaf, with various kinds of grain, plantains, cocoanuts, and jaggery on it. The carpenter, who is the architect and builder of the house, then performs pūja with flowers, incense and lights, and the troublesome imp-spirit Gulikan is propitiated with toddy and arrack, and a fowl which is decapitated for him. Then all the workmen—carpenters, masons, and coolies—walk thrice round the house, breaking cocoanuts on the walls and doors, and howling in order to drive away all evil spirits which may by chance be lurking about the place. After this, they are all fed until they cry out “We are satisfied, and want no more.” They are given cloths and other presents, and the chief feature of the ceremony takes place. This is the formal handing over of the house by the carpenter. He hands it over to a third person, and never directly to the owner. It is not always easy to find a third person who is willing to undertake the responsibility, and who is at the same time suitable for the Gulikan who is dispossessed of the house, and pursues him henceforth, following him who first receives charge of the house. He should be a man who brings luck, cheerful and contented, having a family, and not labouring under any disorder or sickness of body. There is, or was a few years ago, an old Nāyar living not far from Calicut, who was much sought after to fulfil the functions of third person on these occasions, and all the houses he received prospered. The third person is generally a poor man, who is bribed with presents of cloths, money and rice, to undertake the job. He wears one of the new cloths during the ceremony. When the carpenter’s ceremonies have been completed, this man is taken to the middle room of the house, and made to stand facing the door, with each foot on a plantain leaf. Pieces of the thatch are tied to the four corners of his cloth. He shuts the door, opens it, and shuts it again. The carpenter calls from without, asking him whether he has taken charge of the house. He replies evasively “Have the carpenters and workmen received all their wages? If they have, I take charge of the house.” The carpenter does not answer the question, for, if he did so, the mischief would be transferred to him through the house-owner. So he says “I did not ask you about my wages. Have you taken charge of the house?” The man inside answers as before, adding “otherwise not.” The carpenter again says “I did not ask you about my wages. Answer me straight. Have you, or have you not taken charge of the house?” The man inside replies “I have taken charge of the house,” and opens the door. Taking in his hands the plantain leaves on which he stood, he runs away as fast as he can without looking back. This he must not do on any account. The people pelt him with plantains, and hoot at him as he runs, and water mingled with cow-dung is sprinkled in his path. After all this, cow’s milk is boiled with a little rice in the house, of which every one partakes, and the owner assumes charge of his house.

In the pre-British days, a few of the well-to-do families of Tiyans lived in houses of the kind called nalapura (four houses), having an open quadrangle in the centre. But, for the most part, the Tiyans—slaves of the Nāyars and Nambūtiris—lived in a one-roomed thatched hut. Nowadays, the kala pura usually consists of two rooms, east and west.

Toddy-drawing, and every thing connected with the manufacture and sale of arrack (country liquor) and unrefined sugar, form the orthodox occupation of the Tiyan. But members of the community are to be found in all classes of society, and in practically all professions and walks of life. It is interesting to find that the head of a Tiyan family in North Malabar bears the title Cherayi Panikar, conferred on the family in the old days by a former Zamorin. A title of this kind was given only to one specially proficient in arms. Even in those days there were Tiyan physicians, bone-setters, astrologers, diviners, and sorcerers.

It is easy to identify the toddy-tapper by the indurated skin of the palms, fingers, inner side of the forearms, and the instep. The business of toddy-tapping involves expert climbing, while carrying a considerable paraphernalia, with no adventitious aid other than can be got out of a soft grummet of coir to keep the feet near together, while the hands, with the arms extended, grasp the palm tree. The profession is rarely adopted before the age of eighteen, but I have seen a man who said he began when he was twelve years old. It is very hard work. A tapper can work about fifteen trees, each of which he has to climb three times a day. In the northern districts of the Madras Presidency, among the Telugu population, the toddy-drawers use a ladder about eight or nine feet in length, which is placed against the tree, to avoid climbing a third or a fourth of it. While in the act of climbing up or down, they make use of a wide band, which is passed round the body at the small of the back, and round the tree. This band is easily fastened with a toggle and eye. The back is protected by a piece of thick soft leather. It gives great assistance in climbing, which it makes easy. All over the southernmost portion of the peninsula, among the Shānāns and Tiyans, the ladder and waist-band are unknown. They climb up and down with their hands and arms, using only the grummet on the feet. The Tiyan toddy-tapper’s equipment consists of a short-handled hatchet, about seven inches square, of thin iron, sheathed in a wooden case, and fastened to a waist-belt composed of several strings of coir yarn, to which is hung a small pot of gummy substance obtained by bruising the leaves of the aichil plant. A vessel holding a couple of gallons, made out of the spathe of the areca palm, is used for bringing down the toddy. Tucked into the waist-belt is a bone loaded with lead at either end, which is used for tapping the palm to bring out the juice. A man once refused to sell at any price one of these bones—the femur of a sāmbar (Cervus unicolor), which had such virtue that, according to its owner, it would fetch palm juice out of any tree. The garb of the tapper at work consists of a short cloth round the loins, and (always during the rains, and often at other times) a head-covering somewhat pointed in shape, made of the leaves of the cocoanut palm placed together as in a clinker-built boat, or of a rounded shape, made out of the spathe of the areca palm. The toddy-tapper should go through the show of reverence by touching the cocoanut tree with the right hand, and then applying his hand to the forehead, every time he prepares to climb a tree.

In connection with toddy-drawing, the following note occurs in the Gazetteer of Malabar. “The tapper and the toddy shopkeeper are generally partners, the former renting the trees, paying the tree-tax, and selling the toddy at fixed prices to the latter. Sometimes the shopkeeper pays both rent and tax, and the tapper is his servant paid by the bottle. The trees are rented half yearly, and the rent varies between Re. 1 and Re. 1–8–0 per tree. They are fit for tapping as soon as they come into bearing, but four years later and in the succeeding decade are most productive. They are seldom tapped for more than six months in the year, and the process, though it shortens the life of the tree, improves the yield of nuts in the rest of the year. The tapper’s outfit is neither costly nor elaborate. A knife in a wooden case, a bone weighted with lead (the leg bone of a sambhur for choice), a few pots, and two small rings of rope with which to climb complete the tale. Operations begin when the spathe is still enclosed by its sheath. Once a day the spathe is gently bruised on either side with the bone, and on the third and following days a thin slice is cut off the end twice a day. On the fifteenth day drawing begins, and the bruising ceases. Sheath and spathe are swathed for the greater part of their length in a thick covering of leaves or fibre; the ends are still cut off twice or three times a day, but, after each operation, are smeared with a paste made of leaves and water with the object, it is said, of keeping the sap from oozing through the wound and rotting the spathe. The leaves used for this purpose are those of the éechal or vetti tree, which are said to be one and the same (Aporosa Lindleyana); but in British Cochin, where the tree does not grow, backwater mud is utilised. Round the space between the end of the sheath and the thick covering of leaves a single leaf is bound, and through this the sap bleeds into a pot fastened below. The pot is emptied once a day in the morning. The yield of sap varies with the quality of the tree and the season of the year. In the hot months the trees give on an average about a bottle a day, in the monsoon and succeeding months as much as three bottles. In the gardens along the backwaters, south of Chēttuvāyi, Messrs. Parry & Co. consider that in a good year they should get a daily average of three bottles or half a gallon of toddy per tree. A bottle of toddy sells for three or four pies.”

Tiya females at a coir factory.

In connection with the coir industry, it is noted, in the Gazetteer of Malabar, that “the husks of the cocoanuts are buried in pits as near as possible to the waterline of rivers, backwaters and creeks, and are left to soak for six months, a year, or even eighteen months—the longer the better. The colour of the yarn, and thereby the quality, depends very much on the water in which the husks are steeped. It should be running water, and, if possible, fresh water. If the water be salt, the yarn may at first be almost white, but in a damp climate it soon becomes discoloured and blotchy. As soon as the husks are taken out of the pits, the fibre is beaten out with short sticks by Tiyattis (Tiyan females) and women of the Vēttuvan caste. It is dried in the sun for twelve hours, and is then ready for sale to native merchants at Calicut and Cochin, who in their turn deal with the European firms. The fibre is twisted into yarn by Tiyattis and other women, and in that form the greater part of the coir made in Malabar is exported from Cochin to all parts of the world, but chiefly to the United Kingdom and Germany.”

It has been said that “in North Malabar the preparation of coir is a regular cottage industry of the most typical kind. Throughout the year, wherever one goes, one hears the noise of the women hammering out the fibre, and sees them taking, in the evening, that part of it which they have rolled into yarn to the nearest little wayside shop, to be exchanged for salt, chillies, paddy, etc. But, in the north of the district, nothing of the kind goes on, and the coir is commonly used as fuel.”

It has been already stated that marumakkatāyam, or inheritance through nephews, is the invariable rule in North Malabar, being followed even by the Muhammadan Māppillas. In South Malabar, where the Tiyans do not observe marumakkatāyam, the property devolves through the sons. All sons share alike. Daughters have no share. The practice of polyandry, which still exists in Malabar among the Tiyans (and other classes), and which was probably once general, tends to prevent dispersion of the family property. Although theoretically all sons share the property of their father, it is the eldest son who succeeds to possession and management of the tarwad property. The others are entitled to maintenance only, so long as they remain in the same tarwad house. It is the same among the Izhuvans.

Beef, as in the case of all Hindus, is forbidden as an article of diet. The staple food is rice with fish curry. The common beverage is conjee, but this is being supplanted by tea, coffee, lemonade, and soda-water.

A loin-cloth, which should not reach to the knees, with a Madras handkerchief on the shoulders, is the orthodox dress of the males, and a double loin-cloth that of females. Women were not allowed to wear anything above the waist, except when under death pollution. Any colour might be worn, but white and blue are most common. A ring, composed of hollow gold beads, called mani-kathila, is the proper ornament for a Tiyan woman’s ear. Twenty or thirty, with a pendant in the middle, might be worn. Gold or silver bracelets could be worn. Hollow silver bracelets were worn by girls until the birth of their first child. But times have changed, and nowadays Tiyan women wear the ornaments which, strictly speaking, appertain to Nāyar and Brāhman women. Their mode of tying the hair, and even their dress, which is inclined to follow the fashion of the Christians, has changed. In olden days, a Tiyan woman could wear an ornament appropriate for a Nāyar on a special occasion, but only with the permission of the Nāyar landlord, obtained through the Tandān, on payment of a fee.

In North Malabar a good round oath is upon Perumāl Iswaran, the God of the shrine at Kōtiyūr. In South Malabar it is common to swear by Kodungallūr Bhagavati, or by Guruvayūr Appan, local deities.

The Tandān is the principal person in the tara, to decide all caste disputes. In South Malabar, he is, as a rule, appointed by the senior Rāni of the Zamorin. A fee of anything up to 101 fanams (Rs. 25–4–0) must be paid to this lady, when she appoints a Tandān. When there is a problem of any special difficulty, it is referred to her for decision. In territories other than those within the power of the Zamorin, the local Rāja appoints the Tandān, and gives the final decision in special cases. As we have seen, the Tiyan is always to some extent subordinate to a Nāyar overlord, but he is not bound to any particular one. He can go where he likes, and reside anywhere, and is not bound to any particular chief, as is the Nāyar. It is noted by General E. F. Burton,[26] in connection with bygone days, that “such was the insolent pride of caste that the next (and very respectable) class of Hindus, the Teers, were not allowed to come near the Nairs, under penalty of being cut down by the sword, always naked and ready.”

In connection with the religion of the Tiyans, I may commence with an old tradition, which is no doubt from a Brāhmanic source. Once upon a time there were seven heavenly damsels, who used to bathe every day before dawn in a lake situated in a forest. Siva found this out, and appeared as a fire on the bank, at which the girls warmed themselves. Having thus lured them, the God made all of them mothers. Seven beautiful boys were born, and Siva presented them to Parvati, who treated them as if they were her own sons. They were taken to mount Kailāsa, and employed in preparing toddy for the mysterious and wonderful Sakti worship. Daily they brought the toddy at the moment when it was required for the golden pot. Parvati embraced the boys all at once, and they became one. On a certain day, this boy sent the sacred toddy in charge of a Brāhman, who became curious to know the virtues of the mysterious liquid. As he rested on a river bank thinking about it, he drank a little, and filled the vessel up with water. Then he reached Kailāsa too late for the daily worship. Siva was angry, and ordered the Saunika boy (Parvati’s name for him) to be brought before him. But the boy had been told what had happened, and cut off the head of the Brāhman, who had confessed to him. Seeing the boy coming along carrying a Brāhman’s head, Siva was astonished, and commanded him to approach nearer. The boy explained that it was not a heinous crime to cut off the head of one who had prevented the Sakti worship. Siva said that the killing of a Brāhman was the worst of crimes, and put the perpetrator out of caste. He would not listen to the boy, who replied that whoever prevented Sakti worship was a Chandāla, and condemned him. The boy asked for death at Siva’s hands. The request pleased the God, who forgave him. The boy had to remain out of caste, but was initiated into the mysteries of Sakti worship as the surest means of salvation, and to him was given the exclusive privilege of performing Sakti worship with liquor. He was commanded to follow, and imitate the Brāhmans in everything, except in the matter of repeating the sacred mantrams. By tantrams (signs with the hands) he eventually obtained the merit of making pūja with mantrams. He was the first Tiyan.

It is pretty safe to say that all the ideas of the Tiyans connected with pure Hinduism—the Hinduism of the Vēdas—and of tradition, of which we see very little in Southern India, and which in Malabar is more perverted in confused ideas than perhaps elsewhere, those relating to re-birth, karma, pilgrimages to Benares and distant temples are borrowed from the Brāhmans. In the ceremonies which have been described, notably in those connected with marriage and death, we have seen the expression of many Hindu ideas. Not so is all that relates to offerings to the dead. That is the common property of all the children of men.

A main feature in the religion of the Tiyan is that it is largely connected with Sakti worship. Some Brāhmans indulge therein, but they are unable, like the Tiyans, to use arrack in connection with it, and are obliged to use, instead of this requisite, milk or honey. Siva, not exactly a Vēdic entity, and Sakti, are supposed to be the two primordial and eternal principles in nature. Sakti is, perhaps, more properly the vital energy, and Sakti worship the worship of the life principle in nature. We are not considering the abstract meaning of the term Sakti; nor are we now thinking of the Siva of Monier Williams or Max Müller. We are in Malabar, where the Hinduism of the Vēdas is in almost hopeless confusion, and mingled with animism and nearly every other kind of primitive religious idea. It is not therefore at all an easy task to represent in words anything like a rational conception of what the religion of the Tiyan really is. The poor and ignorant follow, in a blind ignorant way, Hinduism as they know it and feel it. Their Hinduism is very largely imbued with the lower cult, which, with a tinge of Hinduism, varied in extent here and there, is really the religion of the people at large all over Southern India. The Tiyans have a large share of it. To the actions of evil and other spirits are attributable most, if not all of the ills and joys of life. The higher Hinduism is far above them. Nevertheless, we find among them the worship of the obscure and mysterious Sakti, which, unfortunately, is practiced in secret. Nobody seems to be in the least proud of having anything to do with it. In fact, they are rather ashamed to say anything about it. Those who, so to speak, go in for it are obliged to undergo preliminary purificatory ceremonies, before the great mystery can be communicated to them. The mantram, which is whispered by the guru (religious preceptor) in the ear of the devotee is said to be “Brahma aham, Vishnu aham, Bhairavu aham” (I am Brahma, I am Vishnu, I am Bhairavan). It is believed that each individual is a spark of the divinity. Having in him the potentiality of the Supreme Being, he can develop, and attain godhood. There is no distinction of caste in Sakti worship. The devotees may belong to the highest or to the lowest castes, though I doubt very much whether the Nambūtiri Brāhmans indulge in it. The novices, of whatever caste, eat and drink together during the period of pūja. Men and women participate in the secret rites. A solemn oath is taken that the mystery of Sakti will not be revealed, except with the permission of the guru, or on the death-bed. The spirit of the goddess (for Sakti is thought of as the female principle) must be withdrawn from the body of the Sakti worshipper when he is at the point of death. A lamp is lighted beside him. A few leaves of the tulsi plant (Ocimum sanctum), a little rice, and a lighted wick are given to the dying man. Holding these things, he makes three passes over his body from head to foot, and, as it were, transfers the spirit to the next man, at the same time communicating his wishes about continuing the worship, and so on. When a man dies before this separation or transfer has been accomplished, a Brāhman must be called in, who, with a silver image representing the deceased, makes symbolic transference of the Sakti spirit. It must be done somehow, or the soul of the deceased cannot attain salvation. It is said that, like many other things in this land, Sakti worship has undergone degeneration, that such lofty ideas and feelings as may have once pervaded it have more or less disappeared, and that the residue is not very edifying. Be this as it may, in every tara there is a Bhagavati temple for Tiyans, where Tiyans officiate as priests. The Komaram (oracle) of the Bhagavati temple is clothed in red, and embellished with red sandal paste mixed with turmeric. Bhagavati is always associated with various jungle spirits or gods, whose Komarams always wear black. There is no daily worship in Tiyan temples, with the exception of a few in the neighbourhood of Cannanore. But there is an annual celebration of pūja during the mannalam (forty day) period, commencing on the first of the month Vrischikam (15th November). Lamps are lighted, and worship is begun on this day, and continued for forty days. At its conclusion, the jungle gods retire to the jungle until the next year. A death in the family of a Komaram involves, I believe, some postponement of the rites. The period is supposed to be first part of the functional activity of the earth, which ends somewhere about the 21st of June. It is during this period that Sakti worship is carried on.

The temple of Subramania at Palni in the Madura district is a favourite objective for Tiyan pilgrims. The subject of pilgrimages to this temple has been touched on in my note on the Nāyars (see Nāyar). The Bhagavati temple at Kodungallūr in Cochin territory on the coast is another favourite place of pilgrimage among the Tiyans. All classes of people, with the exception of Brāhmans, undertake this pilgrimage. Everyone under a vow, proceeding to the festival, which takes place in February or March, carries with him a cock, which is beheaded at the shrine. Under the Perumāls, pilgrimage to Kodungallūr was somewhat compulsory. This temple was a fruitful source of revenue to the State, for not only the Tiyans, but the fisherman and artisan castes had their own temple in every tara in the land, and the Mūppan—the Komaram—of each temple was under an obligation to contribute yearly gifts to the temple at Kodungallūr. Rent for the temple lands was set at a nominal figure—a mere pepper-corn rent as acknowledgment of sovereign right. Rent might not be paid in times of trouble, but the gifts eked out of superstition were unfailing. It is not surprising, therefore, that learning and advancement among the inferior castes did not receive much encouragement from the rulers of those days.

The temple of Kotiyūr in North Malabar is also a shrine to which Tiyans make pilgrimage. Indeed, it may be said that they follow Hinduism generally in rather a low form, and that Sakti worship is perhaps more peculiarly theirs than others’, owing to their being able to use arrack, a product of the palm, and therefore of their own particular métier. The highest merit in Sakti can be reached only through arrack. The Sakti goddess, Bhagavati, the Tiyans look upon as their own guardian spirit.

As instancing the mixture and confusion of religious ideas in Malabar, it may be mentioned that Māppillas have been known to indulge in Sakti worship, and Tiyans to have made vows, and given offerings at Māppilla mosques and Christian churches. Vows to the well-known mosque at Mambram are made by people of almost every caste. It is not uncommon to present the first fruit of a jāk tree, or the milk of a cow when it brings forth its first calf, to the local Tangal or Māppilla priest.

In many, perhaps in most Tiyan houses, offerings are made annually to a bygone personage named Kunnath Nāyar, and to his friend and disciple Kunhi Rāyan, a Māppilla. It is probable that they excelled in witchcraft and magic, but, according to the story, the Nāyar worshipped the kite until he obtained command and control over all the snakes in the land. The offerings are made in order to prevent accidents from snakes. The snake god will also give children to the family, and promote domestic prosperity. Men without offspring worship him. Leprosy and the death of a child are believed to be the consequence of killing a snake. There are Māppilla devotees of Kunnath Nāyar and Kunhi Rāyan, who exhibit snakes in a box, and collect alms. There is a snake mosque near Manarghāt, at the foot of the Nīlgiri hills, which has its annual festival. The alms are collected ostensibly for this mosque.

An interesting story, which is the legendary account of the exodus of the artisans from Malabar, and their return with the Tiyans, is narrated by the Pānans. There were, in olden times, five recognised classes, which includes the Āsāris (carpenters), Musāris (workers in bell-metal), Thattāns (goldsmiths), and Perin-Kollans (blacksmiths). The fifth class is unknown. When an individual of the artisan classes dies, the Pānan of the tara must bring a death gift to the house, which consists of cocoanuts and jāk fruits or plantains. The Pānan places the gift in the yard and repeats a long formula, which he has learnt by heart. It is very likely that he knows little or nothing of its meaning. But he reels it off, and at its conclusion the gifts are accepted. The same formula is also always repeated among the carpenters, goldsmiths, and blacksmiths during wedding and tāli-tying ceremonies. It relates how the artisans deserted the land of Chēraman Perumāl, and sought an asylum in the country of the Izhuvans with the island king, and how the Perumāl sent the Pānan to bring them back. Every one knows this old story, and believes it firmly. It must be learnt by heart, and the Pānan gives it in the yard when a member of the artisan classes dies. The story is to the following effect. During the four Yugams, Kreta, Treta, Dwapara, and Kāli, many kings reigned over the earth. Parasu Rāman destroyed the Kshatriya kings on twenty-one occasions, and was obliged to make atonement in expiatory ceremonies. He worshipped Varuna, the ocean god, and recovered from the sea a hundred and sixty kāthams of land, consisting of Kōlanād (?), Vēnād (Travancore), Kanya Kumāri (Cape Comorin), Chēranād, and Malayālam up to Changala Vazhi beyond the Anaimalai hills. Chēraman Perūmāl was the ruler of this land, in which were the four castes. His capital was at Tiruvanja Kolam. One day, Veluthēdan[27] Chiraman was washing the Perumāl’s cloths in a tank. He beat the cloths on a stone which was flat on the ground, and held one of the cloths in his hand. A girl of the carpenter caste, Ayyesvari by name, was just then going to the tank to bathe after her monthly period. She called out “Ho! Kammal.[28] That is not the way to wash cloths. Put a small stone under one end of your washing stone, so as to make it slope a little. Then hold both ends of the cloth in your hand, and beat the middle of the cloth on the stone.” The Veluthēdan did so, and found that he washed better, and the cloths were whiter. The Perumāl asked him “Were you not washing the cloths before? Who washed them to-day?” To which the Veluthēdan replied “Oh! Tamburān (chief or lord), a carpenter girl instructed your slave to-day how to wash cloths properly. May Perumāl be pleased to order the girl to be given to your slave as his wife.” Perumāl then said “To whatever caste she may belong, you may take her by force, and will not lose your caste.” Having received the king’s permission, Veluthēdan Chiraman concealed himself near the carpenter’s house, and, when the girl opened the door to sweep the yard at dawn, he seized her, and carried her off to his house. Carpenter Sankaran of Tiruvanja Kalam went to the Perumāl, and complained that Veluthēdan Kammal had carried away his daughter, and disgraced him. He asked the Perumāl whether he would give him an armed guard to rescue her. To which the Perumāl replied “I will not help either party with armed men. You must fight it out among yourselves.” Then the five classes of artisans consulted one another, and made common cause. The Pānans, Perin Malayans, and Chēn (red) Koravans joined the artisans. The Ven Thachāns, Vēlans, Paravans, Vēttuvans, Kanisan Panikars, and the Pāndi Pulluvans of Vellālanād joined the other side. There was war for twelve years. In the end, the artisans were defeated. They said among themselves “We have been defeated by the fourteenth caste of Veluthēdan Nāyar, who carried away our daughter. Let us leave this country.” So 7,764 families, with the women and children, tied up their mats, and left Chēramān Perumāl’s country, and went to Izhuva land, which was beyond it. They went before the Izhuva king (island king), and told him their story. Now Chēramān Perumāl used to be shaved every fifteen days. When the barber (Velakathalavan) was sent for, he came without his knife (razor), as his wife had buried it. He said “Oh! Tamburan, have mercy on your slave. Your slave’s knife was given to the blacksmith to be mended, and he took it away with him. He gave me this piece of iron, saying “If you want the knife made ready for use, you must come to the Izhuva land for it, and we will mend it on our return.” So Perumāl had to go without shaving, and his hair grew like a Rishi’s. As there were neither carpenters nor smiths to make implements, agriculture was almost at a standstill; and, as there were no goldsmiths, the tāli-tying ceremonies could not be performed. Nor could the rice-giving ceremony be done, for want of the “neck-rings.” Then Chēramān Perumāl obtained advice, and resolved to send the Mannān (washerman of the Tiyans), who was included in the fourteenth caste, and the Pānan, who belonged to the eleventh caste. The Perumāl gave to each of them a thousand fanams, and told them to go to the Izhuva country, and bring back the Kammālans (artisans). They wandered over various countries, stopping wherever they found a house. The Pānan, being clever, was able to live by his wits, and spent no money of his own. The Mannān, on the contrary, spent all his money. They passed Ramapūri, and reached Trichivampūri. Then the Mannān asked the Pānan for a loan, which was refused. On Friday at noon, the Mannān left the Pānan, saying “The Pānan is no companion for the Mannān.” He returned to the Perumāl and reported his failure, and the Pānan’s refusal to lend him money. The Pānan went on, crossing rivers, canals, and ferries, and at last reached the Izhuva king’s country. He entered the reception hall. At that moment, the king’s goldsmith, who had just finished making a golden crown for him, had put it on his own head, to test its suitability for wearing. The Pānan thought he was the king, and made obeisance to him. The Kammālans recognised him. He discovered his mistake too late, for he had addressed the goldsmith as Tamburan. So, to this day, the Pānans, when addressing goldsmiths, say Tamburan. The Pānan told the Kammālans of his mission, but they refused to return unless full reparation was made for the abduction of the carpenter girl, and certain social disabilities were removed. The 7,764 families of Kammālans asked the Izhuva king his advice, and he said that they should not go away. So the Kammālans sent the Pānan back, and gave him the following presents, in order to demonstrate to the Perumāl that they were in comfortable circumstances:—

• Gold valam-piri (a sort of string worn over the right shoulder);
• Silver edam-piri (a similar sort of string worn on the left shoulder);
• Gold netti-pattam (to be tied on the forehead);
• Gold bracelet;
• Gold ornament for the hair.

The Kammālans sent word to the Perumāl that they would not return, unless they were given a girl in place of the carpenter’s daughter, who had been abducted, and certain privileges were granted to them. At the same time, they promised the Pānan that they would share their privileges with him, if he was successful. So the Pānan returned, and appeared before the Perumāl, who asked him where the Kammālans were. The Pānan removed his gold cap, and put it under his arm, and replied that they were prosperous, and not anxious to return. Saying so, he placed before the Perumāl the rich presents given by the Kammālans, and told the king that they would not return, unless they were given a girl and certain concessions. The Perumāl told the Pānan to go back, and invite the Kammālans to return on their own terms. He said they would catch the first girl they met on the way to his palace, and all their demands were granted. The Pānan arrived again in the Izhuva country, and told the Kammālans what the Perumāl had said. They went to the Izhuva king, and obtained his permission to return to their own country. Then they caught an Izhuva boy, and confined him. The king asked them why they did so. They replied that they had lived for twelve years[29] as his subjects, and would never recognise any other king, so they wanted the Izhuva boy to represent him. The king consented. When they started, the boy began to cry. A Nasrāni,[30] by name Thomma (Thomas), was taken to accompany and protect the boy. The Kammālans travelled to their own country, and appeared before Chēramān Perumāl. On the way, they found a girl of the Variar caste plucking flowers, and caught her by the hand. All the five classes claimed her. At last it was resolved to unite her with the Izhuva boy, their Tandān, who represented their king, and treat her as their sister. Chēramān Perumāl confirmed his promise, and granted the following privileges to the Kammālans:—

1. To make ceilings for their houses.

2. To make upstairs houses to live in.

3. To put up single staircases, consisting of one pole, in which notches are cut, or pegs are stuck alternately, for the feet.

4. To have a gate-house.

5. To perform the tāli-tying ceremonies of their girls in a booth having four posts or supports; to place within it, on a stool, a looking-glass with a handle, and the Rāmayana; and to place a silk cloth on the girl’s head.

6. To do arpu at the conclusion of the tāli-tying ceremony (Vel! Arpu! is yelled out by the boys).

7. To cook rice in copper vessels on occasions of marriage and other ceremonies, and to serve sugar and pappadams at their feasts.

8. To hold the umbrella and taza (a sort of umbrella), which are carried in front of processions.

9. To clap hands, and dance.

10. To keep milch-cows for their own use.

Permission was further granted for the Kammālans to wear the following ornaments.

1. Netti-pattam, worn on the forehead during the tāli-tying ceremony.

2. Ananthovi, a ear ornament named after Anandan, the endless, the serpent on which Vishnu reposes. The serpent is sometimes represented with its tail in its mouth, forming a circle, an endless figure. Ananthovi is the central pendant of the ear-ring worn by Tiyan women among their kathila (ordinary gold ear-rings). It resembles a serpent in form. It is worn by men of the Tiyan and artisan castes on special occasions.

3. Waist zone or girdle.

4. Bracelets.

5. Anklet with two knobs, formed of two pieces screwed together.

6. Puli-mothiram, or tiger’s claws mounted in gold, worn by children.

7. Podippu, a knot of cotton-thread at the end of the string on which coins are hung as ornaments.

8. Kalanchi, a gold knob above the podippu, which represents a flower.

9. Necklace.

10. Edakam and madkam-tāli, neck ornaments, in one of which are set twenty-one stones.

11. Cotton thread above the gold thread on the neck.

The Perumāl conferred like privileges upon the family (Tiruvarankath) of the Pānan who brought back the Kammālans. He wore all his ornaments, and made his obeisance to the Perumāl. He had, however, taken off his gold cap. The Perumāl said “What you have removed, let it be removed.” So he lost the privilege of wearing a gold cap. The Perumāl blessed the Kammālans, and they returned to their villages. They made a separate house for the Izhuva boy and the Variar girl, and maintained them. The Izhuva boy, who was the first Tiyan to come to Malabar, brought with him the cocoanut, and retained the right to cultivate and use it. To this day, the people of the serf castes—Cherumans, Kanakans, and the like—use the word Varian when addressing Tiyans, in reference to their descent from the Variar girl.

The orthodox number of classes of Kammālans is five. But the artisans do not admit the workers in leather as of their guild, and say there are only four classes. According to them, the fifth class was composed of the copper-smiths, who did not return to Malabar with the others, but remained in Izhuva land. Nevertheless, they always speak of themselves as the Aiyen kudi or five-house Kammālans.

There is a variant of the legend of the exodus, told by the Āsāris (carpenters), which is worth narrating. Their version of the story is repeated among themselves, and not by the Pānan, at every marriage and tāli-tying ceremony. They identify the village of the Perumāl’s washerman as Kanipayyūr. This is the name of a Nambūtiri’s illam in the Ponāni tāluk of Malabar. The Nambūtiri is, it may be mentioned, considered to be the highest extant authority in architecture. Disputed points relating to this subject are referred to him, and his decision is final, and accepted by all carpenters and house-builders. The washerman’s stone is said to have been lying flat in the water. The girl Ayyesvari was also of Kanipayyūr, and was carried off as in the former story. But there was no request for an armed guard to rescue her. The Perumāl was, instead, asked to make the washerman marry her, and thus avoid disgrace. He consented to do so, and all the 7,764 families of the five classes of Kammālans assembled for the wedding. An immense booth, supported on granite pillars, was erected. The washerman and his party were fed sumptuously. But the booth had been so constructed that it could be made to collapse instantaneously. So the Kammālans went quietly outside, and, at a given signal, the booth collapsed, and crushed to death the washerman and his friends. After this, the Kammālans fled, and remained one year, eight months and eleven days in the Izhuva country. Negotiations were carried on through the Izhuva king, and the Kammālans returned under his guarantee that their demands would be complied with. The Izhuva king sent his own men and the Nasrāni to the capital of the Perumāl. The story of the exodus and the return was inscribed on granite stone with solemn rites, and in the presence of witnesses. This was buried at the northern gate of the Tiruvanchakulam temple on Friday, the eighth of the month of Kanni. It was resolved that, in any case of doubt, the stone should be unearthed. And it was only after all this had been done that the Izhuva king’s envoy returned to him. Then the Kammālans came back to Malabar. According to the carpenters, the copper-smiths did not return. They say that eighteen families of Āsāris remained behind. Some of these returned long afterwards, but they were not allowed to rejoin the caste. They are known as Puzhi Tachan, or sand carpenters, and Patinettanmar, or the eighteen people. There are four families of this class now living at or near Parpangadi. They are carpenters, but the Āsāris treat them as outcastes.

There is yet another variant of the story of the exodus, which is obviously of recent manufacture, for a Pattar Brāhman is brought in, and gives cunning advice. We know that the Pattars are comparatively new comers in Malabar.

The Tiyans have recently been summed up as follows.[31] “The Tiyas have always been characterised by their persevering and enterprising habits. A large percentage of them are engaged in various agricultural pursuits, and some of the most profitable industries of Malabar have from time out of mind been in their hands. They are exclusively engaged in making toddy and distilling arrack. Many of them are professional weavers, the Malabar mundu being a common kind of cloth made by them. The various industries connected with cocoanut cultivation are also successfully carried on by the Tiyas. For example, the manufacture of jaggery (crude sugar) is an industry in which a considerable number of the Tiyas are profitably engaged. The preparation of coir from cocoanut fibre is one of their hereditary occupations, and this is done almost wholly by their women at home. They are very skilful in the manufacture of coir matting and allied industries. Commercial pursuits are also common among them. Apart from their agricultural and industrial inclinations, the Tiyas give evidence of a literary taste, which is commendable in a people who are living under conditions which are anything but conducive to literary life. They have among them good Sanskrit scholars, whose contributions have enriched the Malayālam literature; physicians well versed in Hindu systems of medicine; and well-known astrologers, who are also clever mathematicians. In British Malabar, they have made considerable progress in education. In recent years, there has been gaining ground among the Tiyas a movement, which has for its object the social and material improvement of the community. Their leaders have very rightly given a prominent place to industry in their schemes of progress and reform. Organisations for the purpose of educating the members of the community on the importance of increased industrial efforts have been formed. The success which has attended the Industrial Exhibition conducted by the members of the community at Quilon, in 1905, has induced them to make it a permanent annual event. Some of their young men have been sent to Japan to study certain industries, and, on their return, they hope to resuscitate the dying local industries, and to enter into fresh fields of industry awaiting development. Factories for the manufacture of coir matting and allied articles have been established by the Tiyas in some parts of Travancore and Cochin.”

In 1906, the foundation stone of a Tiya temple at Tellicherry was laid with great ceremony. In the following year, a very successful Industrial Exhibition was held at Cannanore under the auspices of the Sri Narayan Dharma Paripalana Yogam. Still more recently, it was resolved to collect subscriptions for the establishment of a hostel for the use of Tiya youths who come from other places to Tellicherry for educational purposes.

Tiyōro.—The Tiyōros are described, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “Oriya fishermen, who also make lotus-leaf platters. They have four endogamous sections, viz., Torai, Ghodai, Artia, and Kulodondia.” It has been suggested that the caste name is a corruption of the Sanskrit tivara, a hunter. (See Risley, Tribes and Castes of Bengal, Tiyar.)

Toda.—Quite recently, my friend Dr. W. H. Rivers, as the result of a prolonged stay on the Nīlgiris, has published[32] an exhaustive account of the sociology and religion of this exceptionally interesting tribe, numbering, according to the latest census returns, 807 individuals, which inhabits the Nīlgiri plateau. I shall, therefore, content myself with recording the rambling notes made by myself during occasional visits to Ootacamund and Paikāra, supplemented by extracts from the book just referred to, and the writings of Harkness and other pioneers of the Nīlgiris.

Toda buffaloes in kraal.

The Todas maintain a large-horned race of semi-domesticated buffaloes, on whose milk and its products (butter and ney)[33] they still depend largely, though to a less extent than in bygone days before the establishment of the Ootacamund bazar, for existence. It has been said that “a Toda’s worldly wealth is judged by the number of buffaloes he owns. Witness the story in connection with the recent visit to India of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. A clergyman, who has done mission work among the Todas, generally illustrates Bible tales through the medium of a magic-lantern. One chilly afternoon, the Todas declined to come out of their huts. Thinking they required humouring like children, the reverend gentleman threw on the screen a picture of the Prince of Wales, explaining the object of his tour, and, thinking to impress the Todas, added ‘The Prince is exceedingly wealthy, and is bringing out a retinue of two hundred people.’ ‘Yes, yes,’ said an old man, wagging his head sagely, ‘but how many buffaloes is he bringing?’”

The Todas lead for the most part a simple pastoral life. But I have met with more than one man who had served, or who was still serving Government in the modest capacity of a forest guard, and I have heard of others who had been employed, not with conspicuous success, on planters’ estates. The Todas consider it beneath their dignity to cultivate land. A former Collector of the Nīlgiris granted them some acres of land for the cultivation of potatoes, but they leased the land to the Badagas, and the privilege was cancelled. In connection with the Todas’ objection to work, it is recorded that when, on one occasion, a mistake about the ownership of some buffaloes committed an old Toda to jail, it was found impossible to induce him to work with the convicts, and the authorities, unwilling to resort to hard remedies, were compelled to save appearances by making him an overseer. The daily life of a Toda woman has been summed up as lounging about the mad or mand (Toda settlement), buttering and curling her hair, and cooking. The women have been described as free from the ungracious and menial-like timidity of the generality of the sex in the plains. When Europeans (who are greeted as swāmi or god) come to a mand, the women crawl out of their huts, and chant a monotonous song, all the time clamouring for tips (inām). Even the children are so trained that they clamour for money till it is forthcoming. As a rule, the Todas have no objection to Europeans entering into their huts, but on more than one occasion I have been politely asked to take my boots off before crawling in on the stomach, so as not to desecrate the dwelling-place. Writing in 1868, Dr. J. Shortt makes a sweeping statement that “most of the women have been debauched by Europeans, who, it is sad to observe, have introduced diseases to which these innocent tribes were once strangers, and which are slowly but no less surely sapping their once hardy and vigorous constitutions. The effects of intemperance and disease (syphilis) combined are becoming more and more apparent in the shaken and decrepit appearance which at the present day these tribes possess.” Fact it undoubtedly is, and proved both by hospital and naked-eye evidence, that syphilis has been introduced among the Todas by contact with the outside world, and they attribute the stunted growth of some members of the rising generation, as compared with the splendid physique of the lusty veterans, to the results thereof. It is an oft-repeated statement that the women show an absence of any sense of decency in exposing their naked persons in the presence of strangers. In connection with the question of the morality of the Toda women, Dr. Rivers writes that “the low sexual morality of the Todas is not limited in its scope to the relations within the Toda community. Conflicting views are held by those who know the Nilgiri hills as to the relations of the Todas with the other inhabitants, and especially with the train of natives which the European immigration to the hills has brought in its wake. The general opinion on the hills is that, in this respect, the morality of the Todas is as low as it well could be, but it is a question whether this opinion is not too much based on the behaviour of the inhabitants of one or two villages [e.g., the one commonly known as School or Sylk’s mand] near the European settlements, and I think it is probable that the larger part of the Todas remain more uncontaminated than is generally supposed.”

I came across one Toda who, with several other members of the tribe, was selected on account of fine physique for exhibition at Barnum’s show in Europe, America and Australia some years ago, and still retained a smattering of English, talking fondly of ‘Shumbu’ (the elephant Jumbo). For some time after his return to his hill abode, a tall white hat was the admiration of his fellow tribesmen. To this man finger-prints came as no novelty, since his impressions were recorded both in England and America.

Writing in 1870,[34] Colonel W. Ross King stated that the Todas had just so much knowledge of the speech of their vassals as is demanded by the most ordinary requirements. At the present day, a few write, and many converse fluently in Tamil. The Nīlgiri C.M.S. Tamil mission has extended its sphere of work to the Todas, and I cannot resist the temptation to narrate a Toda version of the story of Dives and Lazarus. The English say that once upon a time a rich man and a poor man died. At the funeral of the rich man, there was a great tamāsha (spectacle), and many buffaloes were sacrificed. But, for the funeral of the poor man, neither music nor buffaloes were provided. The English believe that in the next world the poor man was as well off as the rich man; so that, when any one dies, it is of no use spending money on the funeral ceremonies. Two mission schools have been established, one at Ootacamund, the other near Paikāra. At the latter I have seen a number of children of both sexes reading elementary Tamil and English, and doing simple arithmetic.

A few years ago a Toda boy was baptised at Tinnevelly, and remained there for instruction. It was hoped that he would return to the hills as an evangelist among his people.[35] In 1907, five young Toda women were baptised at the C.M.S. Mission chapel, Ootacamund. “They were clothed in white, with a white cloth over their heads, such as the Native Christians wear. A number of Christian Badagas had assembled to witness the ceremony, and join in the service.”

The typical Toda man is above medium height, well proportioned and stalwart, with leptorhine nose, regular features, and perfect teeth. The nose is, as noted by Dr. Rivers, sometimes distinctly rounded in profile. An attempt has been made to connect the Todas with the lost tribes; and, amid a crowd of them collected together at a funeral, there is no difficulty in picking out individuals, whose features would find for them a ready place as actors on the Ober Ammergau stage, either in leading or subordinate parts. The principal characteristic, which at once distinguishes the Toda from the other tribes of the Nīlgiris, is the development of the pilous (hairy) system. The following is a typical case, extracted from my notes. Beard luxuriant, hair of head parted in middle, and hanging in curls over forehead and back of neck. Hair thickly developed on chest and abdomen, with median strip of dense hairs on the latter. Hair thick over upper and lower ends of shoulder-blades, thinner over rest of back; well developed on extensor surface of upper arms, and both surfaces of forearms; very thick on extensor surfaces of the latter. Hair abundant on both surfaces of legs; thickest on outer side of thighs and round knee-cap. Dense beard-like mass of hair beneath gluteal region (buttocks). Superciliary brow ridges very prominent. Eyebrows united across middle line by thick tuft of hairs. A dense growth of long straight hairs directed outwards on helix of both ears, bearing a striking resemblance to the hairy development on the helix of the South Indian bonnet monkey (Macacus sinicus). The profuse hairy development is by some Todas attributed to their drinking “too much milk.”

Toda.

Nearly all the men have one or more raised cicatrices, forming nodulous growths (keloids) on the right shoulder.These scars are produced by burning the skin with red-hot sticks of Litsæa Wightiana (the sacred fire-stick). The Todas believe that the branding enables them to milk the buffaloes with perfect ease, or as Dr. Rivers puts it, that it cures the pain caused by the fatigue of milking. “The marks,” he says, “are made when a boy is about twelve years old, at which age he begins to milk the buffaloes.” About the fifth month of a woman’s first pregnancy, on the new-moon day, she goes through a ceremony, in which she brands herself, or is branded by another woman, by means of a rag rolled up, dipped in oil and lighted, with a dot on the carpo-metacarpal joint of each thumb and on each wrist.

The women are lighter in colour than the men, and the colour of the body has been aptly described as of a café-au-lait tint. The skin of the female children and young adults is often of a warm copper hue. Some of the young women, with their raven-black hair dressed in glossy ringlets, and bright glistening eyes, are distinctly good-looking, but both good looks and complexion are short-lived, and the women speedily degenerate into uncomely hags. As in Maori land, so in Toda land, one finds a race of superb men coupled to hideous women, and, with the exception of the young girls, the fair sex is the male sex. Both men and women cover their bodies with a white mantle with blue and red lines, called putkūli, which is purchased in the Ootacamund bazar, and is sometimes decorated with embroidery worked by the Toda women. The odour of the person of the Todas, caused by the rancid butter which they apply to the mantle as a preservative reagent, or with which they anoint their bodies, is quite characteristic. With a view to testing his sense of smell, long after our return from Paikara, I blindfolded a friend who had accompanied me thither, and presented before his nose a cloth, which he at once recognised as having something to do with the Todas.

In former times, a Badaga could be at once picked out from the other tribes of the Nīlgiri plateau by his wearing a turban. At the present day, some Toda elders and important members of the community (e.g., monegars or headmen) have adopted this form of head-gear. The men who were engaged as guides by Dr. Rivers and myself donned the turban in honour of their appointment.