River of Smoke - Amitav Ghosh [214]
Dinner was served and removed, and there was still no news of Mr Wetmore or any of the other delegates. After lingering a little over a glass of port, Bahram decided it was time to retire.
It was early yet, so the others were surprised when he made to rise.
‘To bed so soon, Barry?’
‘You’re not keeping country hours nowadays, are you?’
Bahram was already on his feet and he answered with a bow. ‘I am sorry, gentlemen, but today I must end up early. Tomorrow is my community’s most important festival – we call it Navroze. It is our New Year, so I must be up at dawn.’ He smiled as he looked around the table. ‘Of course there will also be a burra-khana. You are most welcome to join us – lunch will be served at noon, in my house.’
Mr Burnham and Mr Slade exchanged glances. ‘Thank you, Barry,’ said Mr Burnham, shifting uneasily in his seat. ‘But for myself I must confess I have no taste for heathenish festivities – and besides we wouldn’t want to get in your way.’
Bahram laughed. ‘Good night, gentleman – and remember, if you change your minds, you are most welcome.’
‘Good night.’
On returning to the Achha Hong, Bahram went immediately to bed. Rising at dawn the next day he lit some incense and made a fumigatory round of his house. Back in his bedroom he set energetically to work, wiping and tidying his altar: from his earliest childhood he had been taught that Navroze was a day for cleansing and cleanliness – the day when the dark shadow of Ahriman was driven from the farthest corners of the house. Even though he knew that his would be only a token effort, the feel of the duster in his hands brought back many warm memories of Navrozes past.
After an hour of cleaning, when he had worked himself into a sweat, he rang for hot water and took a long bath; then, summoning the valet-duty khidmatgar, he changed into the new clothes his family had sent from Bombay.
For breakfast Mesto had made some of his favourite Parsi dishes: a meltingly soft akoori of eggs; crisp bhakra; stuffed dar-ni-pori pastries, with a filling of sweetened lentils; hard-boiled eggs; a fillet of fried pomfret; khaman-na-larva dumplings, bursting with sweetened coconut; and sweet ravo – semolina cooked in milk and ghee.
On other days Bahram would have lingered over the meal, but today there was too much to be done. As the doyen of the community, he had invited every Parsi in Canton to assemble in his house. A large, empty storeroom on the ground floor had already been cleaned and prepared for the ceremony, but before the guests came he would have to put together a proper Navroze altar.
Vico! Where is that lace tablecloth?
Here, patrão – I’ve got it already.
Scarcely had the altar been put in place, complete with the sés tray, bearing rosewater, betel-nuts, rice, sugar, flowers, a sandalwood fire and a picture of the Prophet Zarathustra, than the first guests began to arrive. Bahram stood by the door, greeting each of them in turn, with an embrace and a hearty Sal Mubarak!
One of the guests was from a priestly family, and in deference to his lineage, Bahram had asked him to lead the prayers and preside over the Jashan. He discharged his duties unexpectedly well, pronouncing the ancient language so clearly that even Bahram, who was by no means well-versed in scriptural matters, was able to follow some of the verses: … zad shekasteh baad ahreman … – ‘May Ahriman be smitten and defeated …’
As far back as Bahram could remember this passage had had an extraordinary effect on him, conjuring up more vividly than any other, the conflict between Good and Evil. Today the dread and awe inspired by those words was so powerful that he began to tremble: he closed his eyes and it was as if his head, his whole body, were afire with the flames of that struggle. His knees went weak and he had to hold on to the back of a chair to prevent himself from falling. Somehow he managed to hold himself upright for the rest of the ceremony, and when it ended he wasted no time in ushering the company into the formal dining room, which had been especially opened up and decorated