Tag Archives: Book ‘Dastan-e-Ghadar’ – by Zahir Dehlavi

How Bahadur Shah Kept His Hindu And Muslim Subjects United [Book Excerpt]

‘Dastan-e-Ghadar: The Tale of the Mutiny’ by Zahir Dehlvi offers insights that are particularly relevant today.

NDIAPICTURES VIA GETTY IMAGES Miniature of Bahadur Shah Zafar.
NDIAPICTURES VIA GETTY IMAGES
Miniature of Bahadur Shah Zafar.

Butkhano’n mein jab gaya main kenchkar qashqa Zafar

Bol utha woh but, ‘Brahmin yeh nahin to kaun hai?’

(When Zafar went to the temple with a tilak on my forehead

The idol exclaimed, ‘If not a Brahmin then who is he?’)

—Bahadur Shah Zafar

Abu Zafar Sirajuddin Mohammed Bahadur Shah, better known by his pen name Bahadur Shah Zafar, was the son of Akbar Shah II and his Rajput wife Lal Bai.

He inherited an empire that was his only in name as the British writ ran through it. He was their pensioner. The British Resident in Delhi was responsible for everything that happened in Delhi as well as in the Qila.

Bahadur Shah Zafar [foresaw] trouble and banned cow-slaughter in the areas he nominally controlled… Bakr-Eid passed peacefully in 1857 thanks to the wise decisions of the emperor.

However, along with his empire he also inherited the national outlook of his ancestor Akbar and father Akbar Shah II. He believed in the wisdom that all his subjects were his children, and in fact his last prayer when he left the Qila after the fall of Delhi on the night of 16th September 1857 was:

“Khuda, the Hindus and Muslims of India are my children. Please keep them safe and don’t let them suffer for my deeds at the hands of the British.”

(Related by his daughter Kulsum Zamani Begum who saw him praying on his musalla the night he left it. This has been included in the story “Shahzadi ki Bipta” in the book Begumat ke Aansu which comprises eyewitness accounts recorded by Khwaja Hasan Nizami.)

The Hindu men and women who came to bathe in the River Yamuna every dawn would participate eagerly in the jharokha darshan when the emperor appeared before his subjects in the balcony of the Musamman Burj in the Qila every morning. Only after that would they go home and eat.

Bahadur Shah Zafar condemned the actions of maulvis who tried to divide the populace on religious lines:

Kaho mullah se kiya hum se rindo’n ko padhega

Ki hum Lahaul padh ke teri taqreer sunte hain

(Ask the mullah what can he teach one, so drunk in love

I hear his speeches with a disclaimer on my lips)

Akbar Shah II, who started the Phoolwaalon ki Sair , would offer pankhas both at Qutub Sahib’s dargah and Yogmaya temple in Mehrauli. Bahadur Shah Zafar went to the extent that he would not go to the dargah if for some reason he couldn’t visit the temple the previous day.

The Indian society of the 19th century was living quite happily and in communal harmony, bar a few incidents here and there. When Bahadur Shah Zafar was exiled there was a palpable sense of loss amongst the Hindus and Muslims alike; they felt as if they had lost their father.

Nowhere is this emotion more emphasized as in an anecdote described by Zahir Dehlvi in Dastan-e-Ghadar*.

“Once, some Hindus, along with officers of the British government, hatched a plot to throw all the butchers slaughtering cows out of the city. The British government gave orders stating that these butchers should take their shops out of the city. They had all the shops within the city closed.

When the butchers realized that they had no choice but to obey and lose their means of livelihood, they banded together, took their wives, children and possessions, and came and camped on the riverbank under the jharokha. From there, they appealed to the king, asking ‘How can we leave our city and go away?’

The cherisher of subjects, the emperor, heard their petition and gave the order that his tent be pitched alongside theirs on the riverbank.

‘Whatever is the state of my subjects is my state,’ he said.

As per the decree of their emperor, the servants immediately took the imperial paraphernalia and installed it on the bank of the river.

As soon as the British Resident heard the news, he came running to the emperor and respectfully asked, ‘Huzoor, what are you doing? All the people of the city will come and stand here with you.’

Badshah Salamat replied, ‘I am wherever my subjects are. My subjects are my children and I can’t be separated from them. Has flesh ever been separated from the fingernail? Today, the butchers have been given orders to leave the city; tomorrow, it will be some other community; the day after, it will be another one, and these orders will continue. Slowly, the entire city will be emptied. If the intention of the British government is to empty the city, then tell me so in plain words. I will take all my people and go and live in Khwaja Sahib. Since you have control over the city (Shahjahanabad), you can do whatever you will.’

The Resident was taken aback. ‘Huzoor, don’t even think of such an action. I will redress the complaints of these people immediately and settle them in the city. Huzoor, please have your camp removed from here.’

The Resident gave orders for the butchers to go back to their houses and ply their trade within the city as before. The tent of the emperor was removed.”

Bahadur Shah was equal in his treatment of his subjects and did the same for the ghosis or herdmen of Shahjahanabad when they were faced with a similar situation. Zahir Dehlvi in Dastan-e-Ghadar* writes:

“Once the British government gave orders to the herdsmen to take their family and cattle and leave the city and go and settle outside the city. There was a tumult in the entire city and once again the ghosi (herdsmen/milkmen) along with their families and cattle came and camped on the Reti.

Once again the Emperor, Raiyyat Panaah (shelter of the subjects) was so distraught by the cries of the children and the distress of the cattlemen the emperor gave orders for his tent to be pitched alongside theirs so he could share their sorrow. Once again the Resident came and pleaded with the Emperor and gave orders revoking the previous ones so that the herdsmen could go back to their original quarters in the city.

This time the Emperor told the Resident, ‘Look in my presence do not exile my subjects from their houses. After me you will be in control and can devastate the city (eeint se eeint baja dena).’

That is what was done (after the Emperor).”

On 12th May 1857 when the Indian soldiers who had risen up against the British crowned Bahadur Shah Zafar as the Emperor of India he issued the following decree:

“To all the Hindus and Muslims of India, taking my duty by the people into consideration at this hour, I have decided to stand by my people… It is the imperative duty of Hindus and Mussalmans to join the revolt against the Englishmen. They should work and be guided by their leaders in their towns and should take steps to restore order in the country. It is the bounden duty of all people that they should, as far as possible, copy out this Firman and display it at all important places in the towns. But before doing so, they should get themselves armed and declare war on the English.”

During the Uprising of 1857 the British tried their best to disrupt the Hindu-Muslim unity that was very apparent amongst those they called “baghi” or rebels.

Colonel Keith Young, Judge-Advocate General of the Indian Army who was present with the British forces on the ridge in Delhi regularly sent letters to his wife in the safety of Simla. This wife published them later as “Delhi—1857; the siege, assault, and capture as given in the diary and correspondence of the late Colonel Keith Young’.

On 29th July 1857 he wrote to her:

“Camp, Delhi Cantonments, Wednesday, 29th July:

Hodson just now came into our tent and interrupted my writing this. He tells me that a letter has just come in from the city confirming what we had before heard of the dissensions going on, and they seem likely to terminate in something serious at the Festival of the Eed, as some of the Mahomedan fanatics have declared their fixed intention of killing a cow as customary on that day at the Jumma Musjid. It is hoped that they will religiously adhere to their determination, and there is then sure to be a row between the Mahomedans and Hindoos.”

Colonel Keith Young to his wife. Camp, Delhi Cantonments, Thursday, 30th July:

“All is quiet in camp, and the mutineers must, I should hope— as we all believe—be quarrelling amongst themselves, and unable to agree to come out and attack us again. The Eed, we trust, will bring matters to a crisis with them, and be the day for a grand row between the Hindoos and Mahomedans.”

Camp, Delhi Cantonments, Sunday, 2nd August:

“Our hopes of a grand row in the city yesterday at the Eed Festival have not, apparently, been fulfilled—at least the only newsletter received from the city alludes to nothing of the kind. The King had issued strict orders against killing cows, or even goats, in the city, and this, if acted upon, must have satisfied the Hindoos; and instead of fighting amongst themselves they all joined together to make a vigorous attack to destroy us and utterly sweep us from the face of the earth, when it was arranged that the King should perform his evening prayers in our camp!”

Bahadur Shah Zafar had foreseen this trouble and banned cow-slaughter in the areas he nominally controlled. In The Great Uprising of 1857, Prof Z.H. Jafri cites that they found several documents in the Mutiny Papers in the National Archives, New Delhi by Bahadur Shah Zafar and Bakht Khan, the commander in chief of the Indian forces, asking the people to desist from cow-slaughter and to the kotwal to capture the cows from the houses of people who might go ahead with such sacrifices. There is evidence to support the fact that the police officers took these orders very seriously and thus prevented any sacrifice of cows by them, which could have led to the trouble that Young, and his colleagues were so eagerly anticipating.

Bakr-Eid passed peacefully in 1857 thanks to the wise decisions of the emperor.

The fallout of the First war of Indian Independence was the well-documented policy of divide and rule adopted by the British, which tried to create disharmony between Hindus and Muslims. The two communities fought together again in the freedom struggle leading up to Independence in 1947, but the partition of India and subsequent riots and murder show that the British did succeed to a great extent.

* Book excerpt from ‘Dastan-e-Ghadar : The Tale of the Mutiny ‘ by Zahir Dehlvi, translated from Urdu by Rana Safvi, Penguin Random House.

source: http://www.huffingtonpost.in / HuffPost / Home> The Blog / by Rana Safvi / May 18th, 2017

What happened to the Mughals after the fall of the Mughal Empire?

INDIA :

MughalsMPOs07nov2018

An intense curiosity led me to research on the life of the dynasty after the British took over Delhi on September 14, 1857.

We read and commemorate the heroes who gave their lives in the first war of Indian Independence, every year on their death anniversaries. But spare a thought for those who lived and lived a life worse than death.

Ahmed Ali in his book Twilight in Delhi describes the Delhi Darbar held in 1911 to celebrate the coronation of King George V a few months earlier.

The British Emperor and his wife Queen Mary left the Red Fort, as the Qila-e-Mubarak, was called by the British in a state procession. Almost every prince and ruler and notable attended it and presented tribute to King George V.

In the background as this princely convoy is moving a beggar known as Bahadur Shah is dragging himself on useless legs, begging on the streets of Shahjahanabad.

Who was this beggar? Why was he named Bahadur Shah?

An intense curiosity led me to research on the life of the Mughals after the fall of Delhi into the hands of the British on September 14, 1857.

Though hardly any English book bar Ahmed Ali’s describes the remaining Mughals, Urdu books of late 19th and early 20th century are full of it.

Ghalib himself describes it in two of his works, Dastanbu and the other is Roznamcha-e-Ghadar. Even though Ghalib was not critical of the British and hoped for their patronage and a pension, he still portrays the desolation of Shahjahanabad.

The major description of the plight of the innocents is found in Khwaja Hasan Nizami’s Begmaat ke Aansu, Zahir Dehalvi’s Dastan-e-Ghadar, Mirza Ahmad Akhtar’s Sawaneh Dehli, Syed Wazir Hasan Dehlvi’s Dilli ka Aakhiri Deedar and from Fughan-e-Dehli or the dirges written by many Urdu poets on the condition of royals left in Delhi.

The prince found begging on the streets of Delhi in 1911 finds mention in Khwaja Hasan Nizami’s (1873 – July 31, 1955) Begmaat ke Aansoo. His name was Mirza Nasir-ul Mulk and after escaping the British wrath in the immediate aftermath of the Uprising he had taken up employment along with his sister in a merchant’s house in Shahjahanabad.

The last Mughal emperor, Bahadur Shah Zafar. (Photo credit: Google)
The last Mughal emperor, Bahadur Shah Zafar. (Photo credit: Google)

Later when the British government fixed a pension of Rs5/pm for the Mughal prince and princesses he had stopped working. Soon the pension was squandered away and he was in debt.

After a few years later a peer baba, who looked as if he was from the Timurid-Chengezi lineage used to drag himself around Chitli Qabr and Kamra Bangash area. His legs had been struck by paralysis. He had a bag tied around his neck and he would look at passersby mutely to ask for help. Those who knew who he was would throw in a few coins in his bag.

Someone asked who he was and was told that his name is Mirza Nasir-ul-Mulk and he is the grandson of Bahadur Shah.

Another prince, son of Bahadur Shah Zafar’s daughter Quraishia Begum was also begging on the streets of Shahjahanabad.

Known once as Sahib-e-Alam Mirza Qamar Sultan Bahadur, after the British took control of Delhi he was reduced to begging.

He would come out only at nights as he felt ashamed and embarrassed to be begging on the roads where people bent low to salute him when he rode in the streets.

Mirza Qamar Sultan asked for alms with an aristocratic air. He doesn’t address anyone just cried out, “Ya Allah please get me enough that I can buy provisions for myself.”

Khwaja Hasan Nizami wrote innumerable books on the events of 1857, all based on eyewitness accounts of survivors. One story which I found particularly moving was the story of the daughters of Mirza Kavaish who had been appointed the Heir Apparent of Bahadur Shah Zafar by the British overturning the claims of Mirza Jawan Bakht, the son of Bahadur Shah Zafar’s favourite wife Begum Zeenat Mahal.

In Begmaat ke Aansoo, Khwaja Hasan Nizami has described the story, which he heard from the princess herself.

Her name was Sultan Bano and she was the daughter of Mirza Kavaish Bahadur. When she met Khwaja Hasan Nizami she was 66-years-old but still remembered everything vividly. He recorded it in Begmaat ke Aansoo as Shahzadi ki Bipta.

She tells her story to Khwaja Hasan Nizami:

Although the ghadar took place 50 years ago I still remember it as clearly as if it was yesterday. I was 16-years-old then. I was two years younger than my brother Mirza Yavar Shah and six years older than my sister Naaz Bano, who died.

My name is Sultan Bano. My father Mirza Kavaish Bahadur (he was appointed the Crown Prince by the British in 1856, over the claims of Zeenat Mahal’s son Mirza Jawan Bakht). He was a favorite and able son of Hazrat Bahadur Shah.

We sisters were very fond of our brother Yawar Shah and it was reciprocated fully.

Aqa Bhai had a whole range of tutors who taught him every range of subject and various arts. He had expert calligraphers, Arabic and Persian scholars and ace archers teaching him.

We learnt embroidery, stitching and other household arts from Mughlanis.

The children that Huzur-e-Wala was very fond of would partake breakfast with him every morning. Zill-e-Subhani was very fond of me and I was always called for breakfast with him.

We didn’t observe purdah then or now. Strangers would come and go from the zenana mahal without a problem. But I was shy and I always kept my head covered and didn’t like coming in front of strange men. But I had to obey the orders of the Huzur, even though various male cousins also came there.

The saving grace for me was that because they were in the presence of the Emperor they all kept their gaze lowered. No one could look up or speak out of turn.

As per custom, Huzur-e-Moalla would offer a morsel from some special dish to a few of his children, that person whether young or old, male or female, would get up from their seat and go close to him and present three salams by bending from the waist.

Shahjahanabad, Old Delhi. (Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons)
Shahjahanabad, Old Delhi. (Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons)

One day I was called and Huzur gave me a portion of a special Irani dish that had been mde that day. He said, “Sultana, you only peck at your food. It’s good to be respectful but you should not go to the extent that you get up hungry from the dastarkhwan.”

I presented three salams to him but only I know how I went there and came back. I was quaking and tripping over my feet.

Alas! Where did those happy days go? What happened to that era?

We would be roaming about in our palaces without a concern. Zill-e-Subhani’s shadow was on our head and we were addressed as Malika-e-Alam. Such are the ups and downs of life.

I remember the day clearly when Huzur-e-Moalla was arrested in Humayun’s maqbara and a gora shot my Chachajaan Mirza Abu Bakr Bahadur then Mirza Sohrab ran towards him with a naked sword. But he was shot by another gora and he fell down with an aah on chahchajaan’s corpse and died. I was standing there, still as a statue watching it mutely.

A khwaja Sara came and said, “Begum why are you standing here? Your Abbajaan is calling you.”

In a state of stupor I followed him.

Near the river gate, my father, Mirza Kavaish Bahadur was seated on a horse, bare headed and anxious. Abbajan’s hair was covered in dust and straw. He started crying when he saw me and said, “Farewell Sultana, I too am leaving. The light of my life, my young son, who I wanted to see with a sehra of pearls and flowers hiding his face in his wedding, was killed in front of my eyes by a Sikh soldier. ” I screamed loudly and started calling out, “O my brother Yawar.”

He dismounted and pacified naaz Bano and me and said, “Beti, now the goras are looking for me. I don’t know how much longer I can escape them or how much longer I have before my life is snuffed out. You are Masha Allah young and sensible pacify your younger sister and place your trust in God and be patient.

“I don’t know what will happen to either of us. I don’t want to leave you both alone but one day or the other you will be orphaned. Naaz Bano is a child, look after her and live a righteous life.

“Naaz Bano you are no longer a princess don’t throw tantrums or make demands. Just give thanks to Allah and eat whatever you can get. If someone is eating, don’t look at them or people will say Princesses are very greedy.”

He put us in charge of the Khwaja Sara and said, “Take them to where the other members of our family have gone.”

He embraced us and spurred his horse into the jungle. That was the last we saw of him and have no idea what happened to him after that. The Khwaja Sara was an old servant of our family and he set of with us. Naaz Bano walked for a little while but she had never walked in her pampered and protected life and soon her legs gave way.

She started crying. I had never walked much myself but somehow I managed and pulling Bano along stumbled my way through the streets where we once rode elephants in state processions.

A thorn pricked Naaz Bano’s foot and she fell down crying. I picked her up and tried to remove the thorn. The accursed Khwaja Sara kept watching, making no effort to help. He started pushing us to hurry up.

Naaz said, “Apajan I can’t walk anymore. Please ask the steward to send a palanquin for us.”

I started pacifying her through my tears. My heart felt as if it would burst with sorrow.

The Khwaja Sara said rudely, “That’s enough. Make a move now.”

Naaz Bano was high-spirited and was used to obeisance from servants and would always keep them in their place. She scolded the Khwaja Sara. The accursed man flew into a rage and slapped the poor orphaned princess.

Bano trembled with shock. No one had ever laid a hand on her. Even I started crying along with her. The Khwaja Sara walked off leaving the two of us crying there.

Somehow the two of us stumbled our way to the dargah of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya rahmatallah alaihe.

Thousands of people from Delhi and our family had taken refuge here. Each was caught up in their own troubles and fears. No one was talking to the other or enquiring after them.

A wave of epidemic diseases, which spread in the wake of the ghadar, claimed my sister’s life.

I was now all-alone.

Though peace returned to Delhi, there was no peace for me.

The British govt fixed a pension of Rs 5/pm for all of us and I still get that.

source: http://www.dailyo.in / DailyO.in / Home> Art & Culture / by Rana Safvi  / November 18th, 2016