The namaaz of the morning, and the prayer for Eade, commence with the dawn; after which the early meal of Eade is looked forward to with some anxiety.  In every house the same dainties are provided with great exactness (for they adhere to custom as to a law):  plain boiled rice, with dhie[9] (sour curd) and sugar, forms the first morning repast of this Eade; dried dates are eaten with it (in remembrance of the Prophet’s family, whose greatest luxury was supposed to be the dates of Arabia).[10] A preparation of flour (similar to our vermicelli)[11] eaten with cold milk and sugar, is amongst the good things of this day, and trifling as it may appear, the indulgence is so great to the native population, that they would consider themselves unfortunate Rozedhaars, if they were not gratified, on this occasion, with these simple emblems of long-used custom.  The very same articles are in request in Mussulmaun society, by this custom, from the King to the meanest of his subjects.

The ladies’ assemblies, on this Eade, are marked by all the amusements and indulgences they can possibly invent or enjoy, in their secluded state.  Some receiving, others paying visits in covered conveyances; all doing honour to the day by wearing their best jewellery and splendid dresses.  The zeenahnah rings with the festive songs and loud music, the cheerful meeting of friends, the distribution of presents to dependants, and remembrances to the poor; all is life and joy, cheerful bustle and amusement, on this happy day of Eade, when the good lady of the mansion sits in state to receive nuzzas from inferiors, and granting proofs of her favour to others.

Nuzza[12] is an offering of money from inferiors to those who rank in society above the person presenting; there is so much of etiquette observed in Native manners, that a first visit to a superior is never made without presenting a nuzza.  When we arrived in India, an old servant of my husband’s family, named Muckabeg, was sent to meet us at Patna to escort us to Lucknow; on entering our budgerow[13] he presented fourteen rupees to me, which were laid on a folded handkerchief.  I did not then understand what was intended, and looked to the Meer for explanation; he told me to accept Muckabeg’s ‘Nuzza’.  I hesitated, remarking that it seemed a great deal more than a man in his situation could afford to give away.  My husband silenced my scruples by observing, ’You will learn in good time that these offerings are made to do you honour, together with the certain anticipation of greater benefits in return; Muckabeg tenders this nuzza to you, perhaps it is all the money he possesses, but he feels assured it will be more than doubly repaid to him in the value of a khillaut[14] (dress of honour) he expects from your hands to-day.  He would have behaved himself disrespectfully in appearing before you without a nuzza, and had you declined accepting it, he would have thought that you were either displeased with him, or did not approve of his coming.’  This little incident will perhaps explain the general nature of all the nuzzas better than any other description I could offer.