Shimla’s mahant of European descent, and monkey tales

IT had started off as the perfect hill station morning. A fairly clear sky, the welcome warmth of sunshine and for good measure, a gentle breeze that wafted around as if it had nothing better to do. With a group of elderly travellers, I was in Kasauli. (So as not to give offence to anyone, and to be as politically correct as anyone in these ‘correctly incorrect’ times, by ‘elderly’ I mean people of my age or a little younger).

We had just stepped out of the old church and one was recounting the story of the time when the Viceroy, John Lawrence, was asked to donate money to build the spire as the church still had no pews. Blunt as ever, he is believed to have remarked something to the effect: “Why would you get a man a hat, when he had no trousers?” About that moment, a massive langur sitting on a wall, seemingly as content with life as anyone else, decided that I too did not need a spire. Nor benches for that matter. Just a floor would do. In a bound, he leapt and pushed me to the ground. A couple of painkillers took care of the bruises and other matters.

What lay totally battered was my ego and the supposed knowledge that langur monkeys are mild and do not attack, while the rhesus macaque is aggressive and attacks.

Over the following weeks, I spoke to friends who know more about monkey business than I do. A couple of simple and fairly obvious answers emerged, the man-animal conflict being the most apparent one. Then came the nuances of how animal behaviour is altering. The macaque, our common bandar, once shied away from the larger and more formidable langur. The latter on a leash found employment of sorts, to keep the bandar log away. Large billboards of a langur with bared fangs can be seen outside some government offices in New Delhi. These, I understand, are meant to scare off only the tree-climbing monkeys who may find their way into the offices and with ruthless efficiency demolish files, furniture and other available destructibles. Today, they forage, arm in arm, through rubbish heaps and over fruit trees.

Of the many unusual characters to come out of Shimla, one was Charles William de Russet. While one is not sure of his level of cordiality with langurs, he was known to be able to communicate with macaques. Charles studied at Shimla’s Bishop Cotton School and it is believed that it was after his father’s death that he drifted away from Christianity and joined the fakir at Jakhu. Expectedly, this conversion of sorts created a minor furore. George Ryall, a judge of Shimla’s Small Cause Court, called him and tried to reason with the 18-year-old to “return to his own people”. Ryall spoke kindly but “Charlie was determined to stick to his role”.

Russet is believed to have undergone the severe rigours of a novice for two years. He lived under a tree and the attendant who brought him food was his only human contact. John C Oman, a professor of natural science at Government College, Lahore, met him in 1894, and recorded: “Judging from outward appearances, the man had not suffered any such physical inconveniences as would affect his health, and he was particularly well clothed, though not in any sadhu style I have ever seen.”

In time, Russet became known as Baba Mast Ram. He was something of a curiosity for Shimla’s European residents and known as ‘the leopard fakir’ on account of the leopard skin he wore. He soon came to be accepted into priesthood and became a venerated figure.

Written by Babu Balgobind, a booklet appeared on his death: ‘The Life and Teachings of Baba Mast Ram’. The teachings were simple and Russet found parallels between Jesus and Krishna and Arjuna and John. The rest of the little volume was on the 10 avatars of Bhagwan Vishnu. A mention in 1925 says that “he occupied a temple in Chhota Simla”. This last was at least a phase in Russet’s life. The story goes that when Raja Daljit Singh of Kapurthala purchased Strawberry Hill, just below Chhota Simla, in 1921, Mast Ram occupied a room in the servants’ quarters. The Raja allowed him to stay on. An apocryphal tale is added to this, that the Raja was disgusted with the destructiveness of the monkeys and his son, Padamjit Singh, who was still a child, “spoke to” Russet, who “persuaded” the monkeys to stay away from Strawberry Hill — and for several years, the simian bands would sit on the boundary wall but not enter the estate.

In June 1927, with the rare approval of the local Hindu assemblies, the Hindu hill chiefs and Hindu residents of Shimla, Russet was appointed mahant, manager and guardian of the temple dedicated to Hanumanji at Jakhu. He died on December 28 the same year and was cremated near the temple. In India, Charles de Russet is, perhaps, the only person of European descent to have become the mahant of a Hindu temple.

— The writer is an author based in Shimla