He contrived to bend over his food
almost horizontally, but, alas! he could not remain long in this
position. The natural weight of his powerful limbs overcame him,
he lost his balance and nearly tumbled head foremost, dropping his
spectacles into a dish of sour milk and garlic. After this
unsuccessful experience the brave American gave up all further
attempts to become "Hinduized," and sat very quietly.
The supper was concluded with rice mixed with sugar, powdered peas,
olive oil, garlic and grains of pomegranate, as usual. This last
dainty is consumed hurriedly. Everyone nervously glances askance
at his neighbor, and is mortally afraid of being the last to finish,
because this is considered a very bad sign. To conclude, they all
take some water into their mouths, murmuring prayers the while,
and this time they must swallow it in one gulp. Woe to the one
who chokes! 'Tis a clear sign that a bhuta has taken possession
of his throat. The unfortunate man must run for his life and
get purified before the altar.
The poor Hindus are very much troubled by these wicked bhutas, the
souls of the people who have died with ungratified desires and
earthly passions. Hindu spirits, if I am to believe the unanimous
assertions of one and all, are always swarming round the living,
always ready to satisfy their hunger with other people's mouths
and gratify their impure desires with the help of organs temporarily
stolen from the living.
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