The Moghul Hedonist

by Farzana Moon

  The courtiers were hovering near the gold throne, waiting for the emperor, but the emperor was leaving not the comfort of his private abode. Besides, he was loath to abandon the delightful company of his beloved, which was most favorable to his whims and pleasures. Dressed impeccably in citron robes, he was looking more like a sun-god than a captive emperor, whose ransom for life were his kingdoms which he could neither claim, nor barter for freedom. The empress was dressed like the moon-goddess, in pale silks and soft, glowing pearls. Her cheeks had grown pale, rather luminescent than before. The blue lakes in her eyes were vivid and blazing, as if the wild storms from within would escape her very gaze in bolts of lightning. One flash of a lightning was escaping her eyes this very moment, as she sat molding the emperor's indecisions into sprigs of resolves.

  "My faithful eunuch, Hushiyar Khan, Your Majesty, would obey my orders to slit the throat of this vile traitor, if you but command." Nur Jahan whispered.

  "And our royal throats would be slit by the hands of the merciless Rajputs." Jahangir whispered back. "Though, I am worried about you, not me. Upon my life and honor, my Nur, I dare not lose you."

  "What a farce this is, Your Majesty?" Nur Jahan's eyes were gathering bullets of intrigues. Her gun named Qrisha beside her looked so harmless and was arresting her attention. "Take me to hunting with you, Your Majesty. Qrisha has been faithful to me. It has shot many beasts, and this beast is no match against my hunting skills. I would kill him, and our faithful imperialists would spread the rumor that the traitor died while hunting. Even the Rajputs won't suspect you, Your Majesty, since they watch you like the hawks? Oh, this is ridiculously simple!" She sighed, noticing a gleam of amusement in the emperor's eyes.

  "Even the emperor's Sandoz is faithful enough, my pearl, to slit his throat with its unerring aim." Jahangir's gaze reached down to caress his own jeweled sword in its hilt. "But this is no solution. Thousands of Rajputs loom mighty over our heads. His farce and madness alone are our shield and protection. As long as he claims to respect and uphold the emperor's sense of inviolability, with the assurance that he has no treasonable designs, the unrest and rebellion amongst our troops and kingdoms could be kept at bay. We will catch him unawares when the opportunity affords us such a challenge."

  "When, Your Majesty? So far, we have not availed of any opportunity." Nur Jahan murmured hopelessly.

  "Before action, a set moment of time and place is planned—a proper niche, waiting for the hour to strike its own trumpet of right action, if one is to achieve success. One has to hone one's senses to hear that call, to work in conformity with its command, devising means to collect all pieces of the puzzle, of time, as an analogy, if you will, so that success can be viewed as a whole, not draining through the hourglass of mistakes. If we act hastily without waiting for that call, the puzzle of time would confound our efforts. We would confront chaos, not conformity." Jahangir's very eyes were spilling profundities. "My plan is to gain absolute trust of Mahabat Khan, and then strike when he is least suspecting." He added with the clairvoyance of a diviner.

  "If Prince Shah Jahan gets wind of our captivity, Your Majesty, he is sure to rise in rebellion once again." Nur Jahan was trying to infuse a sense of urgency into the plans of freedom, yet to be tested. "Looting treasuries on the way, and filling his coffers with gold and jewels?"

  "How strange and pitiful, my love, that it takes one a lifetime, if ever at all, to discover the follies of one’s youth?" Jahangir began heedlessly. "One’s mindless indulgence to the pleasures of the world, however sweet to the palate turn most bitter when aged, especially, when they manifest afresh in the characters of one’s own children. Alas, for the jewels of this world which have been poured in such profusion upon my head, that they bear no longer any value before my sight. Neither do I any longer feel the slightest inclination to possess them."

  "This state of captivity has altered you considerably, Your Majesty." Nur Jahan thought aloud, her wit succumbing to despair. "You are resigned to it. Floating in some sort of dream, which may vanish when you awaken? We mustn't despair, Your Majesty. Hope is our only seed of joy, which can bloom into the flower of liberty if we try to nurture it with action." Her gaze was catching and holding poetic gleam in the emperor's eyes into her own. "Gold and jewels can still buy friends and fidelities. I have a little left, from the hands of this bandit of a traitor, who plundered most of them." Her voice was one tremor of regret. "And I would use those few to purchase alliances, who would be willing to cause rift and dissension amongst the Rajputs themselves."

  "Hush, my love, hush. Be comforted. We would gain liberty, all in time, all in time." Jahangir's eyes were gathering warmth and tenderness. "This captivity has been a blessing in disguise. It has given me time to think, to be with you, totally and absolutely to be with you, in mind and body, in soul and spirit. My spirit wandering no more in realms unforgotten. That was a dream, the life which I had spent in utter ignorance of my own self, all those years. Yearning for love which was no more, and neglecting the one which danced before my eyes in a whirlwind of illusions. Just an illusion, never forget that, my love. I would be able to expound on that one of these days. About that life of delusion and suffering? That life is unveiled before me, I can see it—still a paradox in living? Neither is, nor can be in this world any permanent state of repose or happiness. All is vain, fleeting and perishable. In the twinkling of an eye we shall see the enchantress fate, which enslaves the world and its votaries. Seizes the throat of another and another victim. And so exposed is man to be trodden down by the calamities of life, that one might almost be persuaded to affirm that he never had existence. This world, the end of which is destined to be miserable, can scarcely be worth the risk of so much useless violence." His expression was one of a lone dreamer.

  "The hope is dying inside you, Your Majesty." Nur Jahan murmured with alarm. "Don't tell me, Your Majesty, that you don't find joy in hunting and feasting any more?" She asked, more so to jolt him out of his dream-state, than to seek answers.

  "Those enjoyments too, my love, have been a source of pain and regret to me." Jahangir responded dreamily.

  "Do you not see this jungle of deceit and treachery all around you, Your Majesty?" One desperate appeal escaped Nur Jahan's lips. "Are you not going to slay those evils with the rod of your justice, which has been your talisman since your accession?" Her heart was thundering ominously.

  "The treachery and inconstancy of the world are to me as clear as the light of day." Jahangir murmured soothingly. His own heart was lurching in spasms of agony to comfort his beloved. "Tomorrow we journey to Jalalabad, and then to Kabul, as you know, my love. Kabul is the place where all treacheries must end, and they will! We would gain many adherents in Kabul, and by that time I would be done sealing the bond of trust and friendship with Mahabat to such a degree that he would be unable to entertain any doubt or insincerity on my part."

  "And then that treacherous reptile should be sent to the gallows." Nur Jahan couldn't restrain her bitterness.

  "The emperor is not so sure about the mode of punishment as yet, my love." Indecision and kindness were shining in Jahangir's eyes like the tender, little stars. "At times, I have dealt with treacheries with indiscriminate severity, now that severity too has been dispelled from my nature." His gaze was ruminative.

  "It seems, Your Majesty, Mahabat Khan has become your friend, for real?" Nur Jahan murmured, as if thinking to herself.

  "Neither a foe, nor a friend, my Pearl." Jahangir elicited one snort of a laughter. "It's just that he fascinates me. I have never studied a human animal before. And he has provided me with the opportunity to study him and his madness’, concealed within him, yet stark naked to my sight. The unbleeding sinews of vice and virtue, of cruelty and kindness, of fear and boldness, just to name a few. He is trusting like a child, at times? And mistrusting, even his shadow, at other times. He is both sane and mad. Much like the turbulent sea with its surface-calm. Frequently, the angry waves corrupting the surf
ace-calm with a maddening fury, but never leaving the shore of sanity. Yes, I have studied the flora and the fauna in the beautiful valleys of Kashmir! I have studied the birds and the beasts, their behavior and anatomy, but never before in my whole life I have studied the throbbing idiosyncrasies inside the heart of a human animal." His eyes were revealing no profundities, but the stars of adoration.

  "We should cage this animal, Your Majesty, for the pleasure of your intensive studies, gaining liberty at the same time." Nur Jahan's eyes were flashing.

  "It might be interesting to study the caged animal, you are right, my love." Jahangir got to his feet and started pacing. "To study others, one learns to study one’s own self." His voice was distant. "Are we all not the same, with similar appetites of lust, greed and ambition? Concealing our vices, and parading our virtues. God alone knows what evils breed and multiply within our hearts?"

  "If we could rectify the vices within us, Your Majesty, we would be capable of cultivating goodness, not ever breeding evil." Nur Jahan commented sadly.

  "Not much time left for self-introspection, I guess." Jahangir murmured to himself. "I might die, even before I begin that quest."

  "Your Majesty!" One agonized protest broke forth on Nur Jahan's lips.

  "Not killed by the hands of Mahabat Khan, no, my love, no!" Jahangir's feet came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the tent. "Omens and dreams have visited me lately. Happy dreams though, where I sit laughing and talking with my father. My mother, uncles and aunts are there too, all those faces which have been erased from the memory-book of this world, for quite a while now? Even last night I was with my father, talking about hunting trips in Kashmir. He was reciting a poem which he had recited so often before the ulemas in Ibadat Khana when I was young. My memory is so clear now, that I can remember it word by word."

  "Would you recite it, Your Majesty? It might dispel the gloom in your thoughts?" Nur Jahan smiled.

  "Remember the repose and safety which blessed my reign

  The splendor and order which adorned my court, o remember

  Remember the crisis of my repentance, of my oft-revolving beads

  The canopy which I prepared for the sanctuary of the Kabah

  Let the tears of affection shed rubies over my dust

  In your morning orisons turn your thoughts to my soul

  Let your evening invocations irradiate the gloom of night

  Do not forget the anguish of the tear-flowing eyes

  When the chill winds shall visit your courts like the autumnal blasts

  Think on that cold hand which has so often scattered gold among you."

  Jahangir recited, as if re-living that dream.

  "This verse is more chilling than the cold blasts one is sure to feel on the peaks of the Himalayas, Your Majesty." Nur Jahan shuddered visibly. "The daggers of ice are running down my spine, Your Majesty."

  "Then you don't want to hear the quatrain my father recited after this verse?" Jahangir smiled dreamily.

  "On the contrary, Your Majesty, this chill is refreshing. Chilling my pains and sorrows, and awakening within me the sense of void and vastness, to which my naked sight seems blind." Nur Jahan's wit was awakening, cold and razor-sharp. "If you didn't share that quatrain with me, I would be deprived of something very precious, which cannot be purchased, but with the wealth of wisdom."

  "Didst thou see how the sky shed around its flowerlike fascinations

  My soul is on the wing to escape this cage of darkness

  This bosom, which the world was too narrow to contain

  Has scarcely space enough to inspire but half a breath."

  Jahangir stood gazing into the shimmering lakes of her eyes.

  "The poetry of life, Your Majesty, is molded fresh in those words of your father." Nur Jahan's eyes were kindling profundities. "If he was here, he would have pounded the Rajputs to dust with the power of his pen alone."

  "Don't you know, love, he was illiterate?" Jahangir smiled.

  "How could I not, Your Majesty, his virgin mind alone is witness before the seat of divine inspiration in him, as he himself would have said?" Nur Jahan's eyes were speaking volumes. "The ink of knowledge in his mind didn't need the skills in reading or writing. It could have filled the oceans with wisdom, as far as I could imagine, if their liquid-depths could contain such wisdom-treasures."

  "To test the wisdom of his father, my eloquent poetess, the emperor must return to his mock court before Mahabat Khan brings the wretched prisoners right here." Jahangir took one step with the intention of leaving, but then stood there thoughtfully.

  "Your Majesty." Appealed Nur Jahan with a sudden flash of fear and apprehension. "No matter how coward my brother has been, I don't wish his humiliation. Or any harsh punishments, which may seem necessary?"

  "I hoard no ill-will against him, my Nur. All men are cowards when it comes to saving their own lives, with the exception of the saints and the lovers, and of course the martyrs." Jahangir averted his gaze, torment smoldering in his eyes.

  "Amongst the category of such men, Your Majesty, where do you stand, if I may be as bold as to ask?" Nur Jahan was donning the mask of cheerfulness.

  "A saint and a sinner both, if I could be qualified as a true lover." Jahangir smiled, turning to leave.

  "Be kind to Asaf Khan, Your Majesty—and to the others." Nur Jahan pleaded.

  "Mahabat Khan alone is the arbiter in this mock court of the emperor, my Nur, remember." Jahangir drifted toward her. "But I will wage a mental war! And borrow some ink of knowledge from my father's mind, where wisdom still pulsates in the ocean of time." He snatched her hands to him, kissing them reverently. "On the other hand! Here is one more opportunity to win Mahabat Khan's trust that the emperor spares neither kin, nor friend." He fled, as if pressed by the agonies of his body and soul.

  "Scarlet my wounds would pour red, hot coals under the very feet of Mahabat Khan." Nur Jahan murmured to herself.

  As soon the emperor emerged out of his tent, the Rajputs lifted their horns to their lips to herald the emperor toward the open court. They were blowing on their horns with all the passion and ceremony of the royal subjects, as if the emperor was still the sole sovereign of power and command.

  Jahangir seated himself on his throne most regally. In truth, he was the emblem of power and glory, his own courtiers ready to gratify the least of his whims or commands, if he could but command? Mahabat Khan had left no detail unfinished as to the dignity and solidarity of this open court. He had taken great pride in arranging and embellishing this open sea of silken splendor, so that he could flaunt his royal prisoners in chains of misery and degradation.

  The grassland itself was transformed into a tapestry of colors by the gold embroidered carpets so profusely unrolled from the foot of his throne to his royal encampment, as far as the eye could see. The courtiers in colorful turbans stood in attendance. Musicians were present too, evoking loveliest of tunes on their lutes and flutes. Their tunics of gold were splashed with so many gems, that they appeared to shoot rainbow of colors in rhythm to their music. The largest and the brightest of jewels was one octagonal amethyst in the emperor's turban, sparkling and shuddering.

  Jahangir, seated on his gold throne appeared to be suspended over them all like some remote deity. Even the small amethysts in his ears were absorbing color from the brocaded canopy overhead, and shooting beacons of fire and light. He was talking with his courtiers, and discussing the plans of his journeys ahead, as if all preparations were conducted solely by his own orders. The presence of the Rajput guards was dampening the spirits of all, but all were pretending not to notice their taut demeanor.

  The Rajput guards were alert and vigilant, but Jahangir had learned to ignore them completely, rising above their scrutiny as if they didn't even exist. He was engaging his courtiers in conversations with a lively, carefree manner. The affairs of the state and the empire were discussed most intensely. The Rajputs and their horde of soldiers were not even mentioned, as if everyo
ne was avoiding to acknowledge their presence which posed the threat of war and unrest. Many covert glances were exchanged between the emperor and the courtiers in some bond of secrecy. Jahangir could not help but respect the silence of his courtiers concerning the Rajputs, and he had no wish to desecrate his lips by voicing the intrusion of the traitors. It was enough for him to see devotion into the eyes of his courtiers, and he was grateful for their silence and discretion.

  Jahangir's attention was turning to Abul Hasan. Abul Hasan had escaped the inquisition of Mahabat Khan by the power of his own sheer genius and diplomacy. He too had won Mahabat Khan's trust, assuming the guise of a lowly servant, who could be subservient to the ruler and rebel both, without instigating any malice on either side. Abul Hasan's fidelity was sworn to the emperor, Jahangir's honed perspicacity itself had asserted, and he had no room to cultivate any doubt concerning this matter. All his subjects were devoted to him, Jahangir could tell, and his thoughts were lulled to repose. Somehow, the serenity of the vast oceans was entering his soul and psyche. He was looking within, where the tempests raged and churned in abysmal depths, but they could not reach his surface-calm which he willed to hold and retain. Inside his mind and heart were all peace and silence, condoning doom and darkness, fearing neither death, nor misfortune? Jahangir was thinking, as he shot an abrupt inquiry at Abul Hasan.

  "Any news from Agra or Lahore, Abul, which you might have neglected to report? Many could be charged with such neglect these days on account of excitement during these pleasant journeys?" Jahangir murmured with a stab at irony.

  "All peace and prosperity, Your Majesty, I assure you." Abul Hasan bowed with the flourish of his arm. His eyes were shining with a gleam of devotion and conspiracy.

  "How are my grandsons, Prince Dara Shikoh and Prince Aurangzeb? The emperor must reach Lahore soon before they grow up to be young kings, wedded to their own queens. And retiring somewhere in our vast empire to rule over the little kingdoms of their own?" Jahangir's gaze was intense and searching. He had caught the spool of conspiracy in Abul Hasan's eyes, and had tied a knot of understanding in his mind.