Originally published in Pearson's Weekly (C. Arthur Pearson Ltd.) vol.1 #32 (28 Feb 1891).
From the midst of a grove of palms, on the outskirts of Bombay, rise two circular towers, near which stands a large building, looking not unlike some public institution in any well-to-do city, but which is, in truth, one of the temples which seems so necessary in every Indian landscape. They are "The Towers of Silence," the Parsee cemetery or mortuary.
Directly a Parsee dies, he is brought to the temple, and then, after the other rites have been performed, the body is disrobed, and anointed with sacred oils; after that it is taken to the towers, which are about thirty feet in diameter and entirely open at the top, and there placed upon an iron grating for the vultures to come and devour the flesh. In every direction one can see the majestic palms bending low with their burdens of vultures and kites waiting for new prey; the air resounds with their hungry cawing.
While the body is being placed in position, the edge of the tower is filled with cawing, chattering birds, hungry to make the first plunge upon the victim. With one accord they dash down out of sight, and one knows by the change from tumult to quiet, that the Parsee interment is taking place.
That which but a short time ago was a human being, with hopes, and fears, and inspirations, such as still animate us who gaze transfixed with horror, is being torn shred by shred and carried into the air, to be dropped, and picked up and quarrelled over, or else to be consumed with genuine satisfaction. No sooner does a sated bird fly on lazy wings to some far-off tree-top to sleep off the effects of his gluttony, than a fresh one arrives upon the scene to carry on the hideous work. Others brush down upon us, the living, and brush our very faces with their noisome wings.
Beside us stand some Parsees, who watch the circling birds with loving interest, and our guide tells us that they frequently stand and watch them till they know their dead to have been consumed. As soon as the birds have cleaned all the flesh from the bones, these are dropped into a well at the bottom of the towers, where they are covered with quicklime and consumed. The tower is then flooded and deodorised, and so, it is claimed, there is no taint in the air; but anyone having the sense of smell unblunted, feels that this statement is not founded upon truth.