"Binishin bar sari juyo guzari umr bibin
kin isharat zi jahani guzeran mara bas."


So wrote the great poet of Persia: "Sit thou on the bank of a stream and in
the flow of its waters watch the passing of thy life. Than this a vain and
fleeting world can grant thee no higher lesson." Of the human tides which
roll through the streets of the cities of the world, none are brighter or
more varied than that which fills the streets of Bombay. Here are Memon and
Khoja women in shirt and trousers ("kurta" and "izzar") of green and gold
or pink or yellow, with dark blue sheets used as veils, wandering along
with their children dressed in all the hues of the rainbow. Here are sleek
Hindus from northern India in soft muslin and neat coloured turbans:
Gujarathis in red head-gear and close-fitting white garments; Cutchi
sea-farers, descendants of the pirates of dead centuries, with clear-cut
bronzed features that show a lingering strain of Med or Jat, clad in white
turbans, tight jackets, and waist cloths girded tightly over trousers that
button at the ankle. There, mark you, are many Bombay Mahomedans of
the lower class with their long white shirts, white trousers and skull-caps
of silk or brocade: there too is every type of European from the almost
albino Finn to the swarthy Italian,--sailors most of them, accompanied by a
few Bombay roughs as land-pilots; petty officers of merchant ships, in
black or blue dress, making up a small private cargo of Indian goods with
the help of a Native broker; English sailors of the Royal Navy; English
soldiers in khaki; Arabs from Syria and the valley of the Euphrates;
half-Arab, half-Persian traders from the Gulf, in Arab or old Persian
costumes and black turbans with a red border. Here again comes a Persian
of the old school with arched embroidered turban of white silk, white "aba"
or undercoat reaching to the ankles, open grey "shaya," and soft yellow
leather shoes; and he is followed by Persians of the modern school in small