Zindaginama
Page 25
Sher Ali blushed scarlet, but Fateh giggled and coyly hid her face in her henna-red hands.
‘Ari, don’t you let this beast stray. Keep him in control, or he will dive into the river every hour!’
Sher Ali strutted about like a stag, flirting with Fateh’s friends. The girls started singing high and loud.
Rabeyan stood nearby, sometimes gazing fondly at her older sister, sometimes at her sister’s bridegroom, Sher Ali. Reshma came, flung her arms around Rabeyan’s neck and flicked her cheek playfully, and said, ‘Kyon ri, my precious rosebud, spare a look at yourself too! Fateh has dived among the bela trees, now in which waters will our lady of the large eyes plunge?’
Noori tugged at Rabeyan’s odhni. ‘Look into your eyes, my love – not one but two Chenabs sparkle in them!’
‘Go away, let me be!’
Noori didn’t budge and said for the benefit of all ears, ‘Ari, come now, tell us! In which harbour will you dock your boat?’
Rabb-Rasool’s mercies! With His grace, the fields were ploughed and levelled, and seeds for new crops were sown. The big, hefty Jatts of the pind were free to join the gathering. Free hearts and easy minds took long pulls of the most fragrant Gandhari tobacco.
‘Karm Ilahiji, you seem most carefree!’
‘Deen Muhammad, with Rabb’s grace, if the fields have been duly worked and cared for, a man feels free to relax and enjoy himself a little.’
‘Absolutely, badshaho, these are the glorious days when a Jatt farmer can be king.’
Mauladadji explained, ‘And why not! Allah put man to toil only so that he could enjoy some happiness once every year or six months.’
Munshi Ilmdin got his chance without asking. ‘The badshahs of yore also had the same routine. Eight months in a year, they toured the country for administration and trade, and then spent four months in the pleasant seasonal fort of their choice, their quila-e-mubarak.’
Najiba couldn’t control his mirth. ‘Munshiji, where lies the Jatt farmer, and where badshahs-shahenshahs! How can you even compare the two?’
Shahji said, ‘Wealth is not necessarily a bad thing. Nor are its luxuries when justified. Paisa-maya, wealth and its illusion, is the force that makes the world spin. Right, Jahandad Khanji?’
‘Absolutely, badshaho!’
Shahji turned towards Najiba. ‘And that’s not all. Rabb has granted some kind of power and badshahat to each one of us. If a man stays alive and well, if his limbs work as they should, and if tasks big and small continue to be performed, then he is the king of kings!’
Kakku Khan got an idea, laughed and said, ‘Shahji, looks like Rabb Rasool also created Shahs and Shahukars only to help the poor Jatt farmer! At least he can borrow a hundred-odd or thousand in his need and make do.’
When the hukkahs gurgled on in silence, Kashi Shah said, ‘In the eyes of the One Above, there is no partiality. King and servant both have two hands, two feet, one face and forehead, one torso.’
Jahandadji added with great presence of mind, ‘May Rabb will it good for you, from Patshah Babur to Shah Abdali, all had the same two hands, the same two feet.’
‘Badshaho, what was extra were the brave heart and the sword, were they not?’
‘Waah, Najibeya, that is most intelligently spoken! Hope some genie-ghost is not teaching you all this!’
Ilmdinji didn’t like it when illiterate Najiba was praised. He took another leap and said, ‘Paigambar Sahib has said that the key to heaven is the sword, and the sword alone!’
Taya Maiyya Singh started laughing. ‘Munshiya puttar, you are great! The sword will do what the sword can, and the plough will do the plough’s work.’
Ganda Singh jumped into the fray. ‘Swords are fine for conquests. But for raising food and grain, only hands that toil will do.’
Chaudhary Fateh Aliji looked at Jahandadji. ‘Gentlemen, the glory, praise and victories of the sword are doubtless well known and proven. But courage comes first, and weapons second!’
Shahji caught the thread. ‘If it weren’t so, then would Babur dream of attacking India at the tender age of fourteen? Akbar slayed Hemu Bakkal when he was just thirteen!’
‘Was our Emperor Ranjit Singh any less, Shahji?’
Munshi Ilmdin laid the siege. ‘Hemu was the Bakkal ruler of Rewari. He rose to great heights owing to his superior intelligence and tact and crushed many a rebel and rebellions. Ultimately, he got it in his head that he, too, could be the emperor of India. That’s it, Hemu declared himself king, got the title of Bikramajit added to his name, and new coins minted in his own name. But on the other hand, Behram Khan was Akbar’s adviser. Bas! He built up such a confrontation that Bikramajit and his title were both silenced under the sword of Akbar.’
Jahandadji said, ‘Badshaho, the game of the sword is such that he who dares first wins the battle.’
Guruditt Singh said, ‘Maharaja Ranjit Singh too fought his first battle at the age of twelve. Ranjit Singh was no less than Babur and Akbar!’
Shahji began to laugh. ‘Gentlemen, even if a fact is valid, a man should consider before speaking. It shouldn’t become a petty women’s quarrel; that sister, Babur is mine and Bikramajit yours, or Turk is yours and Mughal mine!’
‘Waah, Shah Sahib, your intellect truly speaks! The truth is if a man studies Arabic and Persian, then his wisdom is further honed.’
Fateh Aliji concurred, ‘What Mauladad says is right. The Siyalkot madarsa is no ordinary school. It is famous far and wide.’
‘Chaudharyji, this madarsa is renowned since the times of Jahangir. Miyan Ahmad and Miyan Sadiq, who ran it, were both great scholars of their time. They were famous even in Persia and Greece. It was by God’s grace that both us brothers first started writing our slate, then passed our final exams from there itself.’
Shahji was transported back to the madarsa once more. ‘Fateh Aliji, we idiots got many a punishment, but once it was that our hands were caned. It so happened that Ustaadji ordered – “Recite Pand Nama Bemani, the book of absent meanings.” We started on Bamani, the book of meanings! Call it misunderstanding or carelessness, but the cane left weals on both our hands that day.’
‘Lo ji, Khushi Mohammadji has arrived! He has just returned from the city.’
When Khushi Mohammad settled grandly on the cot after offering sahib-salamat all around, everyone understood that Miyan Sahib had some news to share.
Fakira had no patience. ‘What’s the matter, Chacha? Looks like you’ve got something new and hot for us!’
‘Oh, do spit it out, Khushi Mohammadji!’
Khushi Mohammad’s face grew pensive. ‘It isn’t good news. It is our own Nawaz Khan of Thootha Pind. His feet got caught in the stirrups and he lost his life. The horse was new, he lost control!’
Shahji was upset. ‘I met him in the courts just last week. He had a hearing.’
‘Death came calling, what else? He’d bought the horse from Allah Rakkha Khan of Chooknawali. His feet were left hanging in the stirrups and his body, bloodied and broken, was dragged around the dunes by the galloping horse.’
‘Sheer fate! Otherwise Nawaz Khan was among the better riders.’
‘Badshaho, Subedar of Lahore Mir Mannu also lost his life like this.’
‘They say it was after this incident that the Mughlani Begum took over the reins of Lahore. Mughlani Begum was a favourite of Ahmad Shah Durrani. That loose woman had the Afghans dancing on the little finger of one hand, and the Mughals in the grasp of the other.’
God knows what Jahandadji suddenly remembered; he chuckled to himself for a long time. Then he took a pull on the hukkah and said, ‘Shah Sahib, the loss-making fact of the matter is that God has touched woman with musk. Man can’t help but be drawn to her.’
Shahji and the whole gathering laughed uproariously. ‘So it was with good reason then that Shah Durrani in his pleasure gave Begum the title of Sultan Mirza.’
Munshi Ilmdin couldn’t contain himself. ‘Say what you like, Shah Durrani was
a powerful shahenshah. Badshaho, once when he was returning to Kandahar after threatening and subduing Hindostan, the Chenab rose in flood. Thousands of horses and men were carried away midstream!’
Guruditt Singh’s turban grew hot. ‘Indeed, the day of reckoning had to come one day! Abdali Shah had sworn to wipe out the Khalsa seed. But when he was returning home, his men sacrificed their lives right here itself, on this very soil. After all, Khwaja Khijr the River Pir also had to respond to the prayers of his devotees, did he not?’
Brows frowned in displeasure as if someone had suddenly torn the waters apart.
Munshiji burst out, ‘First and foremost, Durrani Shah was most wise. And second, he challenged the Sikhs only to put a stop to the dacoities.’
Guruditt Singh’s head smouldered. ‘Your ilm is incomplete, Ilmdinji. In the end, those who dared to disrespect the Harmandir Sahib had their heads piled in mounds all the way to Kabul and Kandahar, didn’t they? Abdali’s treasury had put a reward of five annas on each Sikh head. In return, the same Khalsa Sarkar offered a sagun of five rupees for each Baloach Pathan head. And then, khairon se, the Sher-e-Punjab flag soared in Atak and beyond!’
‘I will fight an army of millions with one
I will teach the sparrow to slay the falcon
Only then will I be worthy of my name,
Gobind Singh.’
‘Enough, oye, enough! Have both of you gone mad? Mercifully, we all breathe easy now and in times of peace. And here you two are hell-bent upon recalling past genocides!’ Shahji turned the conversation towards more pleasant subjects. ‘You must have heard the names of Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s ministers – Khalifa Nooruldin, Fakir Azizuddin and countless other wealthy and respectable sardars and jagirdars. Punishment, crime, oppression, genocide – these are games played by invaders. For the rest, the appreciation and patronage of talent and capability also goes with being a shah-badshah.’
Kashi Shah said, ‘Durrani Shah had taken the poet Waqif of Batala to Kabul with him.’
Ganda Singh had lost interest. ‘O, he must have taken him along to get his praises sung. Poets, courtiers and flatterers are a court’s ornaments, they’re diamonds and pearls, aren’t they?’
‘Think what you like. But Durrani Shah also had many Hindu lawyers in court.’
Mauladadji was pleased. ‘If you ask me, Shahji, what is a Hindu’s job if not to dig and scratch for the truth beneath appearances? Entire reigns and dispensations are run on such tactics alone!’
Maiyya Singh suddenly woke up. ‘I say, listen to me, you will find it of use. Lala Vadde’s son Chann Mull’s wedding was celebrated in Hafizabad. The Miras there presented a beautiful swaang. Listen, Kashiram, a man strong and handsome, of good health and height, came and stood centre stage. Salwar, jhagga with jacket. Kullah on head. Tightly wound cummerbund with pesh kabz. Take it that he was Shah Durrani in flesh and blood. Listen further. Imagine Shah Durrani seated on his royal throne, and presented before him is none other than Pranchand Puri!’
‘Tayaji, stop blabbering. Why drag the hapless Puris before the Shahs?’
Maiyya Singh was baffled. ‘Oye listen, Pranchand Puri was a resident of Ghartal. He had renounced everything and become a sanyasi. During his wanderings, he reached Panchnad. And who was camping there but Durrani Shah himself. The Shah came face to face with sanyasi Puri – Ganda Singh, O where is Guruditt Singh? – All right, so listen, Guruditt Singh! Shah Durrani may have had ten faults, but he had great regard for the saints and sadhus of Hindostan. Now it so happened that those days the Shah was suffering from a boil on his nose. Showed it to Pranchand Puri and asked, “Mahatma Pran Puri, this boil discharges pus day and night. Tell me some medicine if you have a suitable prescription.”
‘Badshaho, the Puri son tried very hard but couldn’t think of anything. He was neither a hakeem, nor a vaidya. He thought – if I tell the Shah, I will suffer, and if I don’t, I will suffer. He closed his eyes and meditated, took a deep breath, then opened his eyes and said, “Shah of Kabul, the One above has decreed that your respected nose and your kingship are linked through His divine will. So it will not be feasible to separate the two.” That’s it. Hearing this, Shah Durrani was supremely pleased with Mahatma Pran Puri!’
‘Waah-waah, Tayaji, a fine tale you have told, and Pran Puri said it well too. If the Puri of Ghartal had flubbed his answer, he would have either been exiled, or decapitated.’
‘No, Karm Ilahiji, Pran Puri would not have admitted defeat so easily. He would have thought of something else.’
‘What you say is right, Shah Sahib. Our people do not lack in intelligence.’
Kashi Shah took up a new topic. ‘You must have heard of Akbar’s great wit, Raja Birbal? Whatever Birbal said, he could make everyone laugh with his wise and pithy observations. Akbar Badshah doted on him for this. He would often tell his courtiers, “One, Birbal is open by nature; second, he’s sharp and wise; third, he has the courage to speak his mind!” Once he entered Akbar’s court, Birbal earned high name and honour for himself, and great rewards. Akbar Badshah would often deliberately provoke Birbal just to challenge his favourite courtier. And Raja Birbal would always respond with such chiselled responses and present them with great elan to Badshah Salamat!’
Jahandadji said, ‘It is praiseworthy that when a man speaks, those listening can laugh freely and fearlessly. Shahji, our English officers in the army too have high praise for the wit and repartee of our jawans and ranks. And offer due rewards. This is certainly a gift worthy of praise.’
Shahji reminded his younger brother: ‘Raja Birbal’s equal was Raja Todar Mal. Also a Tandan Khatri of Choonia. Todar Mal was in Sher Shah Suri’s court before becoming a lawyer at Akbar’s court. Quick, sharp, and skilled at work. He was first given the title of Raja, and then awarded the mansabdari of four thousand counties. Todar Mal was extremely far-sighted, possessing a discerning eye and fine judgement. He made several improvements in the revenue structure and the treasury and devised many schemes and plans for the welfare of farmers. When he was appointed to Akbar’s court, do you know what he advised the Hindus? “If you want to prosper and be happy, study Persian!” Otherwise, Todar Mal was known to be a deeply religious man who believed in Hindu rituals and worship.’
Mauladadji said, ‘Badshaho, good stars and talent are both essential for one to shine in court.’
Shahji went a step further. ‘In the times of Shahjahan, there was one other individual who rose to great heights – Wazir Sadulla Khan. He rose from being the daroga of baths, to become chief minister to the badshah. Sadulla Khan was from our area’s Sayyadwal itself.’
‘Waah, that says something about our area, doesn’t it?’
Jahandadji nodded proudly. ‘Yes, he was a humvatani. Of the same land as us.’
‘Ji, records say that Sadulla Wazir was a man of high principle. He would neither resort to flattery to try and win royal praise, nor would he subject the poor to cruelty and oppression. The wazir earned high respect and fame in his time.’
Taya Maiyya Singh was trying to ascertain something else. ‘I say, there is not one Sayyadwal, but two or three. Is this the platform with pipal and banyan trees?’
‘Wahi, ji, wahi – the very same. It is called the Chabutara of Ram-Lakshman!’
‘Spared ten lakh lives
Spared ten lakh counties
Spared ten lakh promises
Of not going to Hindostan.
“Sold, ji, sold, Lahore county is sold!”’
Karm Ilahiji called out, ‘Who is it? Oye, who is this merry-heart sparing ten lakh promises?’
Fajju came in, salaamed and said, ‘Dada Sahib, it is Vazeera of Thalli Vand.’
‘Hmm. So the little boy is announcing that he has passed grade three?’
‘Looks like Maulviji has let the toddlers off for the day.’
Fakira looked at Najiba and laughed. ‘No doubt Maulviji had to get his turban washed. It happens no, to see someone, to be seen by someone.’
Karm Ilahiji and Chaudhary Fateh Aliji smiled to themselves but retained their imposing mien. ‘Shah Sahib, this is also the time to think about which school, which madarsa-maqtab our little Lali Shah shall attend.’
Shahji was pleased with the topic. ‘Chaudharyji, if a man could have his way, then he would present his son before his own ustaad, at his own madarsa. But then time never stops. Things change. Each day is new, and with it, ustaads too.’
Jahandad Khan offered: ‘Some good new mission schools have been started. Our Lali Shah should go to one of those. They are highly regarded in our platoons. If one learns a smattering of English, one is made.’
Shahji started enjoying himself. Laughed and said, ‘If you want the truth, a man becomes a man only if he learns Persian.’
Ganda Singh sat up on his cot and called out crisply, ‘Munshi Ilmdin, O where are you hiding now? When the title of Man is being bestowed, you vanish from sight!’
Mauladadji’s chillum was fizzling out. He called for Nawab to refill it and said, ‘Shahji, you have made a clear distinction here. So, then ordinary folks like us are entirely excluded from the caste of man, is it?’
Kashi Shah quoted the newspaper: ‘That is the attitude of our government. If you are with the Sarkar, you serve it and all is well and fine. Otherwise, yes, most certainly, the natives are seen as nothing but rustic idiots.’
Shahji closed his eyes for a moment and carefully retrieved a memory. ‘Chaudharyji, it is an old akhyan. Listen. A famous astrologer from the south, named Varahmihir, came to Siyalkot during his travels. Siyalkot was called Swatinagari in those days. And our Gujrat was called Udinagari. Varahmihir was an intrepid traveller. Kashmir, Hazara, Multan – he had covered all these on foot. And so wandering, he arrived in a Gujjar village. People came to know that the distinguished traveller was also an astrologer. They gathered before him to have their hands and fortunes read.