The Adventures of Amir Hamza

by Ghalib Lakhnavi

  BOOK ONE

  The First Book of the Dastan of the Sahibqiran,

  Amir Hamza bin Abdul Muttalib, and of the

  Events Preceding His Birth

  The florid news writers, the sweet-lipped historians, revivers of old tales and renewers of past legends, relate that there ruled at Ctesiphon1 in Persia (image of Heaven!) Emperor Qubad Kamran, who cherished his subjects and was a succor to the impecunious in their distress. He was unsurpassed in dispensing justice, and so rigorous in this exercise that the best justice appeared an injustice compared to his decree. Prosperity and affluence thrived in his dominions while wrong and inequity slumbered in death, and, rara avis–like, mendicants and the destitute were extinct in his lands. The wealthy were at a loss to find an object for their charity. The weak and the powerful were equals, and the hawk and the sparrow roosted in the same nest. The young and the old sought one another’s pleasure, neither ever deeming himself the sole benefactor. The portals of houses remained open day and night like the eyes of the vigil, for if someone stole even the color of henna from the palm,2 he was ground in the mill of justice. The thief therefore did not even dream of thieving, and if perchance a wayfarer should come upon someone’s property on the road, he took it upon himself to restore it to its owner.

  In the same city there also resided a savant by the name of Khvaja3 Bakht Jamal, who traced his lineage to the prophet Danyal (God’s favors and mercies be upon his soul!). He was unrivaled in learning and the sciences of hikmat,4 ramal, astrology, and jafar, and was truly a successor beyond compare of the ancient philosophers. Malik5 Alqash, the emperor’s vizier who had often made use of the divinations of this sage, offered himself as a pupil to Khvaja Bakht Jamal, and before long, Alqash, too, became adept at ramal.

  One day Alqash said to Khvaja Bakht Jamal, “The other night as idleness weighed on my heart, I decided to cast lots in your name. Reading the pattern, I discovered that your star is in the descendent, and some vicissitude of fortune will befall you. Your star shall remain in the same house for forty days. Thus it would not bode well for you to step out of the house during this period, or trust anyone. Even I must suffer under this burden of separation, and not see you!”

  Following Alqash’s advice, Bakht Jamal secluded himself from the world. Of the foretold days of ill-boding, thirty-nine had passed without mishap. On the fortieth day, Khvaja felt wretched to be shut inside his house, and set out carrying his staff to see vizier Alqash, to bring his only faithful and affectionate friend the news of his health and welfare.

  By chance, instead of the thoroughfare, he followed a deserted road to the riverside. As it was summer he took refuge from the burning sun under a tree’s shade. While he sat there, his eyes suddenly beheld a building most imposing, save for its outer walls that had fallen to ruin. Some curiosity led him toward it, and as he drew near, he found most of the apartments inside in a state of decay, and the vestibules in ruins, but for one that had survived ravaging and still stood—in desolation and disarray like a lover’s heart. In that vestibule there was an antechamber whose entrance was bricked up. Removing the bricks he found to his right a door with a padlock. When he held the padlock in his hand, it came open of its own accord and fell to the floor. Stepping inside Khvaja discovered a cellar. There he found buried Shaddad’s seven boundless treasures of gold and jewels. Seized by fright, Khvaja was unable to take anything, and retraced his steps out of the cellar, then hastened to Alqash’s house to give him the propitious news.

  Alqash’s face brightened at the sight of Khvaja. He made room for him on his throne, and after expressing joy at seeing his friend, said, “Today was the fortieth day. Why did you take such trouble and inconvenience yourself? Come tomorrow, I had intended to present myself at your door.” After making small talk Khvaja mentioned the seven treasures to Alqash, and recounted the windfall, saying, “Though I was blessed in my stars to have come upon such an untold fortune, it was found on royal land, and lowly me, I cannot lay claim to it! I resolved in my heart that since you are the emperor’s vizier, and an excellent patron and friend to me, I should inform you of this bountiful treasure. Then, if you saw fit to confer a little something upon your humble servant, that bit only would I consider warranted and rightful!”

  Alqash was beside himself with joy when he heard of the seven treasures, and ordered two horses to be saddled forthwith; then he mounted one, and Khvaja the other, and they galloped off in the direction of the wasteland. By and by, they arrived at their destination. Alqash became greatly agitated and ecstatic the moment he set eyes on the seven hoards, and while murmuring gratitude to his Creator for bestowing such a windfall on him, the thought suddenly flashed across Alqash’s mind that Khvaja Bakht Jamal was privy to this secret. Alqash reasoned that if some day Khvaja Bakht Jamal chose to betray him to the emperor in order to gain influence at the court, the vizier would find himself in a sorry plight. It would be by far the lesser evil, Alqash thought, to kill Khvaja right there, and then lay claim to the boundless treasure without the least anxiety that someone might one day reveal the secret.

  Once resolved, he immediately bore down upon Khvaja and put the dagger to his throat. Confounded by this turn of events, Khvaja cried out, “What has got into your head, Alqash? Is that how a favor is returned? What injury have I done you that you resolve to punish me thus?” And much did the poor old man groan in the same vein, and seek compassion, but to no avail. The heart of that villain did not soften.

  When the frail man saw that it was only a matter of a few breaths before the candle of his life would be snuffed out by Alqash’s hands, he entreated in despair, “O Alqash! I see that you are bent upon my murder. But if you could find it in your heart to act upon my last words, I shall entrust them to you and die with at least this debt toward you.” The ungrateful wretch shouted back, “Make haste! For the cup of your life is now ready to overflow, and the thirst of my inclement dagger is ordained to be quenched in your blood!” The poor man spoke: “There is hardly any money in my house to last my family beyond tomorrow, and even less food. I would to God that you might send them enough to survive. And inform my wife, who is expecting, that if a boy is born to her, she must name him Buzurjmehr, and if a girl is born, she may follow her own counsel.” After saying this he closed his eyes and began reciting the kalma.6 Whereupon that heartless villain cut off Khvaja’s head with his dagger, destroyed his horse, too, and interred the two of them in the same vault where the treasures were buried.

  After sealing the door, Alqash went to the river to cleanse the blood from his hands and the dagger, and then he rode away to his house, glad in his heart and thrilled. The next day, he returned to the place with great pomp, and after surveying it, ordered the prefect to build a garden for him on the site, bound by walls of marble, and a turquoise chamber erected over the vestibule. In a matter of days, the garden, the marble walls, and the turquoise chamber were ready, all of which delighted Alqash greatly, and he named the place Bagh-e Bedad.

  Then he called at Khvaja Bakht Jamal’s house, and told the family that he had sent Khvaja off to China to conduct trade, and he should soon return after turning a profit. He then communicated to them Khvaja’s wishes. He consoled and comforted the family, and bestowed on them a rich purse, mentioning that more would be available whenever there was need, and that they ought not entertain any fears of adversity. Then Alqash returned home, with the grim truth buried in his heart.

  OF BUZURJMEHR’S BIRTH, AND OF THE CONTENTS OF THE BOOK BECOMING CONSPICUOUS

  The singing reed of the knowers of tales of yore, and the mellifluent quill of claimants to past knowledge thus luxuriously modulate their song, and in a thousand voices delightfully trill their notes to proclaim that by the grace of God Almighty the auspicious day arrived when, at a propitious hour on a Friday, a boy of high fortune was born to Khvaja Bakht Jamal’s wife.

  Remembering Khvaja’s wish, she named him Buzurjmehr, and the child began to blossom in her care. His stately foreh
ead bespoke nobility, and his princely face shone with the light of eminence.

  When Buzurjmehr was five years of age, he was taken to an instructor who had been a pupil of Khvaja Bakht Jamal. He was told he could repay Khvaja’s debt and earn acclaim by imparting knowledge to his son. The man very gladly accepted the charge, and put all his heart into educating Buzurjmehr.

  It was Buzurjmehr’s routine to spend the whole day at his teacher’s side, learning, and to return home when a few hours remained before the close of day, to partake of whatever his mother had provided for him with her labors. One day, it so happened that there was nothing to eat. Buzurjmehr said to his mother, “I am perishing with hunger. Please give me something that I might sell it and buy some food.” His mother replied, “Son, on the shelf there lies an ancient book, belonging to my father, and written long ago. Many a time, when your father was in need of money, he resolved to sell it. But every time he reached for it, a black serpent would dart out hissing from the shelf, and your father would turn back in fright. See if you can fetch it from there and sell it.”

  Buzurjmehr went and fetched the book as his mother had bid, but he did not find the serpent. As he turned a few pages and read them, he at first began to wail loudly, and cried copious tears; then, having read a little further, he burst into riotous laughter.

  Those present were greatly astonished, and marveled at what might have caused such a reversal of humor in him. Suspecting a fit of lunacy, his mother beseeched some of the witnesses to send for a bloodletter to bleed him, and others to get an amulet to put around his neck, wailing all the while that he was her only son and if he were seized by madness she would have no support in her adversity.

  Noticing his mother’s agitation, Buzurjmehr comforted her, and said, “Do not grieve, Mother, and stop worrying in your heart. I have become neither deluded nor taken with delirium. The reason I cried and laughed was that from reading this book I have learned all that has gone before and all that shall come to pass. I cried to discover that the vizier Alqash had murdered my innocent father. And I laughed upon finding out that I will avenge my father’s blood, and shall become our emperor’s vizier. Vex yourself no further! We shall have enough for ourselves—and to feed ten others besides.”

  Having said this, Buzurjmehr took a handmaiden to the grocer’s and asked him to weigh out daily as much in victuals, butter, and sugar as she might ask for, without bothering about payment. The grocer asked, “But when would I be paid?” Buzurjmehr said, “Do you ask payment of me? Perhaps you have forgotten how you poisoned the farmer Chand along with his four sons to avoid payment for the several thousand maunds7 of wheat you had bought from him.” Hearing this the grocer was seized with fright and pleaded in a trembling voice, “My son, whenever you desire anything, send for it from here, but pray keep to yourself what you have just uttered.”

  From there Buzurjmehr took the servant girl to the butcher’s shop, and asked him to apportion one Tabrizi maund8 of meat to her daily. The butcher asked, “And when shall I be paid and the account settled?” Buzurjmehr answered, “Remember shepherd Qaus, whom you slaughtered and buried in your shop’s cellar, and appropriated thousands upon thousands of rupees from that innocent man. Have you taken leave of your senses that you demand payment of me?” Upon hearing that, the meat vendor began to tremble like a cow at the sight of a butcher, and threw himself violently at Buzurjmehr’s feet declaring, “As much as Your Honor’s girl shall desire shall be weighed out to her, and never even in my dreams would I desire compensation. But please safeguard my life and honor, and keep your lips sealed!”

  Buzurjmehr dealt with the jeweler similarly, unnerving him by telling him of his past heinous deeds, and settling at the jeweler’s expense a daily stipend of five dinars for himself. Then he returned home and bided his time in happy anticipation.

  OF THE EMPEROR’S VISIT TO ALQASH’S BAGH-E BEDAD, AND OF THE FESTIVITIES HELD IN THAT HEAVENLY ABODE

  Gardeners of annals and singers of the nursery of articulation plant the trees of words row after row, and thus embellish the brightness of the page with the flowers and redolent blossoms of colorful contents, making it the envy of Mani’s tablet, telling how when Bagh-e Bedad was ready, and the form of Shaddad’s Heaven realized, the euphoric Alqash, in his giddiness, forgot all cares of this world and the next.

  Enthralled and enchanted at the sight, and beside himself with joy, he submitted to the emperor, saying, “By virtue of Your Highness’s blessings, your slave has built a garden. A host of rare plants has been collected at great expense, and choice landscapists, past masters of the art, have been employed to tend to them. But none of it brings any joy to your follower, for whom it shall remain a figure of autumn, until Your Eminence sets his blessed foot there.

  “I desire Your Excellency, Emperor of the World, the Immortal Soul of the Age, to crown it with your presence. Then shall the garden taste of spring, and every bud and flower sprout in majestic splendor. And should Your Highness deign to partake of a fruit or two, this slave’s prayers will be granted, and his trees of hope will bear fruit.” The emperor consented to his request. Gratified, Alqash bowed low and after making his offering, departed to busy himself with preparations for the feast.

  Before long, everything needed for the feast was provided. And presently there arrived, exalted as the heavens, bright as the sun, most just and clement, His Imperial Majesty, attended by his retinue of nobles and viziers, to increase the beauty of Bagh-e Bedad with his presence.

  At the approach of the royal procession, the lookouts and riders posted by Alqash to gather intelligence proclaimed the emperor’s arrival.

  Alqash, escorted by his sons and aides-de-camp, came out with a majestic procession to welcome his sovereign lord. Alqash went to the entrance of the house at the head of this procession to make his offering. Then, holding a post of the royal litter, he escorted the emperor into the garden. When he entered that heavenly sphere, the emperor found the garden an indulging and alluring retreat.

  In the nave of the garden stood a chamber, unrivaled in architecture, made of turquoise and surrounded by canopies of variegated gold leaf fixed on gold-inlaid posts. A platform made of seven hundred thousand gold pieces was built in the courtyard of the chamber, on which sat a bejeweled throne.

  At this platform, the emperor ascended and graced the throne, and received offerings. Alqash was in seventh heaven and felt himself most extraordinarily distinguished. When the emperor regarded the splendor and glory of Bagh-e Bedad, he praised it to high heavens. Alqash the wretch relished every last word of his praise. For twenty-one days the emperor indulged in convivialities and merriment. On the twenty-second day he conferred on Alqash the Jamshedi robe of honor.9 The royal litter arrived presently, and the emperor then repaired to his palace, fully content. He was soon occupied in matters of state.

  OF ALQASH TAKING THE INNOCENT BUZURJMEHR PRISONER, AND OF HIS DELIVERANCE FROM ALQASH’S CLUTCHES, AND OF THE EMPEROR’S ASSEMBLING HIS PRUDENT MINISTERS TO ASK THEM OF THE DREAM, AND VOWING PUNISHMENT ON THEM

  Such is the decree of Destiny’s Gardener that every instant a new flower should bloom in Life’s Green. The farsighted one regards in it His transcendent art, and disengages his mind from this world and all things worldly. No sooner does one laugh than he feels some grief prick his side. The bough that bows in humility procures forthwith desire’s fruit. A branch that overreaches, the Gardener’s hand promptly prunes.

  Regard what new blossom flowered in that garden, and what fresh colored bud sprouted there. We return to Buzurjmehr and his story. Regard how times change and fortunes ebb and flow.

  Thus narrate the legend writers and the raconteurs of yore that since Buzurjmehr was wise, sagacious, virtuous, and discerning, he had given himself to a solitary life, and the hours of his nights and days were spent venerating the Almighty. One day his mother said to him, “Son! Of a sudden I am taken with a longing for some greens. If you were to inconvenience yourself, your mother’s craving w
ould be fulfilled.” Buzurjmehr gladly acquiesced to his mother’s wishes, and bent his legs toward Bagh-e Bedad.

  Arriving at the gate he found it locked. He called the garden keeper, who came directly. As he was about to unlock the gate, Buzurjmehr said to him, “Do not touch the lock. The female of the snake you killed the other day is secreted away in the catch of the lock to bite you and avenge her mate.” When the keeper looked closely he did indeed find a female snake in the catch. He killed her, too, and opening the gate, threw himself at Buzurjmehr’s feet declaring, “It was your forewarning that saved me! Otherwise nothing stood between me and my death, and certainly I would have breathed my last. What is your pleasure, my dear boy? What was it that brought you here today?” Buzurjmehr answered, “I needed some greens. I will pay for them with pleasure.” The keeper replied, “I will fetch the greens directly. But I cannot accept payment from my savior, and shall make a present of them to you.”

  When the gardener went to get the greens, he noticed a goat plundering the saffron fields with great abandon. He struck her with his mattock in irritation, and her chapter of life soon ended with her throes. Buzurjmehr called out, “O cruel man! Why did you take the blood of three innocent lives on your neck?” The gardener smiled and said, “Here I killed one goat, son, and you count her as three! Are you in your right mind?” Buzurjmehr told him that the goat had two kids of such and such color inside her womb, and when the gardener killed her, they died with her, too.

  Unbeknownst to them, as they stood there talking, they had attracted Alqash’s ears. He called the garden keeper over, and inquired what they had been discussing. When Alqash ordered the goat’s belly cut open, it did reveal two kids of the same color as Buzurjmehr had described. Greatly surprised, Alqash called Buzurjmehr over, and asked him to introduce himself.