Tag Archives: Dara Shikoh

The Mughals who rest in Delhi

NEW DELHI :

DelhiMughalGravesMPOs31jul2019

While Mughal rulers like Babar and Bahadur Shah Zafar have been buried on foreign soil, quite a few members of their clan rest at Humayun’s Tomb

Where do most Mughal kings, princes, and princesses sleep in Delhi? The answer lies in the vaults of Humayun’s Tomb, built with much devotion, by the emperor’s first wife, Haji Begum. Among those buried here are Hamida Bano Begum, the mother of Akbar; Dara Shikoh, Shah Jahan’s heir apparent; Aurangzeb’s once beloved son, Azam Shah; the dandy Jahandar Shah, and his slayer Farrukhsiyar; Ahmed Shah and Alamgir-II.

There are many more, of lesser note, some without inscriptions, gathered within the folds of the mausoleum of their ancestor Humayun. It’s a strange feeling of beds spread out on a summer night with the kind emperor sleeping in glory among many of those who waded to the throne through the blood of their relatives. The last rites of murdered princes were generally adhered to and they were laid to rest in the family graveyard. But there were exceptions like Dara Shikoh, who was denied the ritual funeral bath by his austere brother Aurangzeb.

In Mehrauli, the precincts of the shrine of Hazrat Qutubuddin Bakhtiar Kaki also form the burial ground of many Mughal and other princes. In Agra, Akbar’s tomb at Sikandra is the repository of the remains of a host of princes and princesses. In Calcutta, several descendants of Wajid Ali Shah, the last King of Oudh, lie buried, and in Rangoon, the family of Bahadur Shah Zafar has found a burial place denied to it in the land of its birth.

Babar’s tomb should have been the last resting place of all those descendants whose graves are found in Humayun’s mausoleum. But Babar chose to be buried in Kabul which ceased to be a part of the Mughal empire by the time most of his successors died.

Isn’t it an irony of fate that the first and last emperors could not be buried in India? While Babar loved Kabul, Bahadur Shah Zafar had no choice as the British wanted to stamp out his very memory by burying him in a nondescript grave in Rangoon, which was rediscovered by chance and formed the rallying point for Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose’s INA during World War-II.

Bahadur Shah Zafar died on 7 November, 1862 and was hastily buried by lantern light, with the British officer deputed to escort him from India and look after his stay in Rangoon, supervising the funeral. Zinat Mahal and the other ladies of the harem who had accompanied the king did not attend the last rites, but his young son, Jawan Bakht was present. No tombstone was erected to perpetuate the memory of the star-crossed monarch, but fate willed it otherwise and Bahadur Shah Zafar seems to have had the last laugh as his name and fame survive despite his oppressors’ ill-intentions.

The king’s mazar (shrine) has now become a place of pilgrimage in Myanmar, where the last emperor is worshipped as a Pir. While on the walls are inscribed some of his heart-rending ghazals, like the one bemoaning the misfortune of his not having found even two yards of land in his country of birth “Kitna hai badnaseeb Zafar dafan ke liye / Do gaz zamin bhi na mili ku-e-yaar mein”. But he has acquired enough space in the hearts of his compatriots alright.

Babar’s mausoleum is a modest one, which lay neglected for many years. But it is heartening to note that lately it has been renovated, having somehow escaped destruction during the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan and then the turmoil of the Taliban period. Though demands have been made for bringing back Zafar’s remains to India, nobody has raised their voice for Babar’s reburial, not entirely because of the first Mughal emperor’s dying wish.

So Humayun’s Tomb remains the funeral parlour of the family of Babar. You go from vault to vault and nothing but inscribed stones confront you on which are enshrined a cloak-and-dagger mystery. Death, gruesome death, generally at the hands of an assassin hired by the next of kin, the ambitious prince determined to seize the throne.

Many were done to death by their brothers, uncles, nephews or treacherous wazirs. Some died of poison, administered through a favourite, but faithless, courtesan; others strangled in their sleep, yet others hacked with swords or stabbed through the heart or back. Children weren’t spared. You gaze at these tombstones with awe and pity. How many innocent lives destroyed for the sake of ambition! There is the silence of death all around, with the Grim Reaper gloating over his sickle of time with which he has laid low both those with name and those without fame. Only Clio, the muse of history, understands the secrets of these vaults and it is she who weeps in them through her tresses: Put on your shoes and tip-toe away.

The writer is a veteran chronicler of Delhi

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society> History & Culture> Down Memory Lane / by R.V. Smith / July 23rd, 2019

Jahanara Begum: The Forgotten Mughal Princess Who Designed Chandni Chowk

DELHI :

She was one of the most powerful women of medieval India, a Mughal princess like no other. And yet, her extraordinary story remains lost in the pages of history.

In an unassuming part of India’s capital city, amidst winding alleys lined with attar and chadar sellers, lies the 800-year-old dargah of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya—one of the most revered saints in Sufism. From dusk to dawn, thousands of devotees throng this bustling complex to pay their respects.

Yet, few know that Delhi’s most famous Sufi shrine is also home to the tomb of one of the most powerful women of medieval India, Jahanara Begum.

A writer, poet, painter and the architect of Delhi’s famous Chandni Chowk, Jahanara was a Mughal princess like no other.

Portraits of Jahanara Begum. Source: Wikimedia Commons
Portraits of Jahanara Begum. Source: Wikimedia Commons

This is her story.

The eldest child of Emperor Shah Jahan and his favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, Jahanara was born in Ajmer in 1614. Growing up in one of the richest and most splendid empires in the world, the young princess spent her childhood in opulent palaces, humming with family feuds, battle intrigues, royal bequests and harem politics.

As such, she was well-versed in statecraft by the time she was a teenager.

Soon after, Jahanara was appointed Begum Sahib (Princess of Princesses) by her doting parents. She would often spend her evenings playing chess with Shah Jahan, understanding the workings of the royal household, and helping her father plan the reconstruction of other palaces.

As French traveller and physician François Bernier writes in his memoirs, Travels in the Mogul Empire  ,

“Shah Jahan reposed unbounded confidence in his favourite child; she watched over his safety, and so cautiously observant, that no dish was permitted to appear upon the royal table which had not been prepared under her superintendence.”

Jahanara was also especially close to Dara Shikoh, Shah Jahan’s eldest son and her favourite brother. The two shared a love of poetry, painting, classic literature and Sufism.

In fact, she also wrote many books, including a biography of Ajmer’s Sufi saint Khwaja Moinuddin Chishti, displaying her flair for prose.

The Begum Sahib. Source: Royal India Families/Facebook
The Begum Sahib. Source: Royal India Families/Facebook

But tragedy struck the young princess’s life with the untimely demise of her beloved mother, Mumtaz, in 1631. At the tender age of 17, she was entrusted with the charge of the Imperial Seal and made Malika-e-Hindustan Padshah Begum—the First Lady of the Indian Empire—by the shattered Emperor, whose grief kept him away from his royal duties.

It was only on Jahanara’s behest that the inconsolable Shah Jahan came out of mourning.

In the years to follow, she became her father’s closest confidante and advisor. Highly educated and skilled in diplomatic dealings, her word became so powerful that it could change the fortunes of people. Her favour was much sought-after by foreign emissaries.

In 1654, Shah Jahan attacked Raja Prithvichand of Srinagar. Despairing of success in the battle, the Raja sent a plea for mercy to Jahanara. The Princess asked him to send his son, Medini Singh, as a sign of his loyalty to the Mughal Empire, thereby getting him a pardon from the Emperor.

The following year, when Aurangzeb was the viceroy of the Deccan, he was bent on annexing Golconda, ruled by Abdul Qutb Shah. The Golconda ruler wrote an arzdast(royal request) to the Princess, who intervened on his behalf. Qutb Shah was pardoned by Shah Jahan (against Aurangzeb’s wishes) and secured his safety on payment of tax.

Interestingly, Jahanara was also one of the few Mughal women who owned a ship and traded as an independent entity.

Padshahnama plate 10 : Shah Jahan receives his three eldest sons and Asaf Khan during his accession ceremonies (8 March 1628). Source: Wikimedia Commons
Padshahnama plate 10 : Shah Jahan receives his three eldest sons and Asaf Khan during his accession ceremonies (8 March 1628). Source: Wikimedia Commons

Named ‘Sahibi’ after its owner, Jahanara’s ship would carry the goods made at herkarkhanas (factories) and dock at her very own port in Surat; its revenue and the colossal profits she made via trade significantly boosted her annual income of three million rupees!

In his book Storia Do Mogor, Italian traveller Niccolao Manucci writes, “Jahanara was loved by all, and lived in a state of magnificence.” The book is considered to be one of the most detailed accounts of Shah Jahan’s court.

But Jahanara’s political and economic clout failed to have an impact on the bitter war of succession between her brothers, Dara Shikoh and Aurangzeb. She made several attempts to mediate between them, but as Ira Mukhoty writes in her book Daughters of The Sun , she had “underestimated the corrosive loathing that Aurangzeb has for Dara, whom he blames for his father’s cold criticism throughout his career”.

Aurangzeb ultimately killed Dara Shikoh and placed an ill Shah Jahan under house arrest in Agra Fort’s Muthamman Burj (Jasmine Tower). Faithful to her father, Jahanara set aside her lucrative trade and luxurious lifestyle to accompany him into imprisonment.

A constant presence beside Shah Jahan in his exile, she took care of him for eight years, till he breathed his last in 1666.

“The Passing of Shah Jahan” (1902), a painting by Abanindranath Tagore. At the foot of the bed is Jahanara Begum, the daughter of Shah Jahan; the Taj Mahal is in the background. Source: Wikimedia Commons
“The Passing of Shah Jahan” (1902), a painting by Abanindranath Tagore. At the foot of the bed is Jahanara Begum, the daughter of Shah Jahan; the Taj Mahal is in the background. Source: Wikimedia Commons

It says much for her stature in the Mughal court that after Shah Jahan’s death, Aurangzeb restored her title of Padshah Begum and gave her a pension along with the new title of Sahibat al-Zamani (Lady of the Age)—befitting for a woman who was ahead of her time.

Unlike other royal Mughal princesses, she was also allowed to live in her own mansion outside the confines of the Agra Fort.

“Jahanara establishes herself in the city as the most influential woman patron[s] of literature and poetry. She collects rare and beautiful book[s], and her library is peerless. She donates money to charity, especially Sufi dargahs, and carries on a genteel diplomacy with minor rajas who come to her with grievances and gifts,” writes Ira Mukhoty in her book.

Spending her last years in the pursuit of her artistic and humanitarian passions, Jahanara passed away in 1681 at the age of 67 but not before she etched her mark in the annals of history in a manner that would have made her father proud.

She commissioned several architectural spectacles, mosques, inns and public gardens across the Mughal empire.

But she is best remembered as the architect of Old Delhi’s legendary bazaar, Chandni Chowk—which translates to ‘Moonlit Intersection’.

Water colour of Chandni Chowk in Delhi from ‘Views by Seeta Ram from Delhi to Tughlikabad Vol. VII’. Source: British Library
Water colour of Chandni Chowk in Delhi from ‘Views by Seeta Ram from Delhi to Tughlikabad Vol. VII’. Source: British Library

In his book  Shahjahanabad : The Soverign City in Mughal India , Stephen Blake writes,

“The chowk was an octagon with sides of one hundred yards and a large pool in its center. To the north, Jahanara built a caravansarai (roadside inn) and a garden and, to the south, a bath. On certain nights, the moonlight reflected pale and silvery from the central pool and gave to the area the name Chandni Chawk (Silver or Moonlight Square). This name slowly displaced all others until the entire bazaar, from the Lahori Gate to the Fatehpuri Masjid, became known as Chandni Chawk.”

Today, many of Chandni Chowk’s ancient buildings have been torn down, as its lanes brim with new shops and colliding crowds. And yet, somehow it manages to invoke the spirit with which Jahanara lived—the same spirit that helped her survive and thrive amidst betrayals and tragedies.

Interestingly, Jahanara’s resting place in the Nizamuddin Dargah is of her own choosing, just like her character.

Jahanara’s tomb at the Nizamuddin Dargah. Source
Jahanara’s tomb at the Nizamuddin Dargah. Source

Unlike the giant mausoleums built for her parents, she rests in a simple marble tomb open to the sky, inscribed with her own couplet in Persian:

Baghair subza na poshad kase mazar mara, (Let no one cover my grave except with green grass,)
Ki qabr posh ghariban hamin gayah bas-ast. (For this very grass suffices as a tomb cover for the poor.

Perhaps it is poetic justice that green vines grow on the grave of this extraordinary princess of India.

(Edited by Shruti Singhal)

source: http://www.thebetterindia.com / The Better India / Home> History> Women / by Sanchari Pal / May 24th, 2019

Mausoleum that Humayun never built

NEW DELHI :

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HUMAYUN’S TOMB, one of the 23 heritage sites in India, has come alive – at a cost of Rs.3 crore thanks to the Aga Khan – with dormant fountains playing again, old forgotten wells being redug and lights illuminating the mausoleum whose garden, in which tobacco was given till 1915, has been redesigned. Unlike many emperors, Humayun did not plan his own tomb for the simple reason that he did not expect to die so soon and suddenly at the age of 55, after a fall down the stairs of his library in the Purana Qila.

It was in response to the evening – maghrib – call for prayer on January 24, 1556 that Humayun got up from his seat on the terrace and hastily started descending the staircase. His robe got caught in his foot and he came tumbling down. He died two days later. What makes his death more tragic is the fact that the aazan had been given by one Miskin earlier than the scheduled time, disturbing the emperor who, as a keen astronomer, was scanning the heavens for the planet Venus.

The task of erecting a monument to his memory was left to Bega Begum or Haji Begum, his first wife, with monetary support from her stepson, Akbar. The mausoleum, whose architect was a Persian, Mirza Ghayak, was unique in the sense that it later served as the model for Shah Jahan to build the Taj Mahal. Besides, this, Humayun’s Tomb is also the last resting place of many of the emperor’s successors – princes and princesses – including Dara Shikoh, whose headless body was interred there after his execution on the orders of Aurangzeb.

Akbar was very fond of Haji Begum, though his love for Hamida Banu, his own mother, was naturally intense. It is interesting to note that the title of Mariam Makani was given by Akbar to his mother, because he regarded her as the epitome of innocence. And Mariam, as we know was the name of the mother of Christ of which the anglicised version is Mary. It shows the love and respect he had for her.

Humayun, following in the footsteps of his father, Babar, also had more than four wives. He was married to Bega Begum at an early age. Then Chand Bibi and Shad Bibi joined his harem. There were others too like Mah-Chehak Begum, Gunwar Bibi, Gul-Barg Barlas, Maywa-Jan and Shahnam Agha.

Hamida Banu was only 13 when Humayun saw her and fell in love at first sight. He was old enough to be her father but then love knows no bounds. Hamida was too young to respond and just giggled at the man who kept following her with his eyes. It was after his defeat at the hands of Sher Shah Suri that a dejected Humayun had gone to meet his half-brother Hindal at Lahore.

His meeting with Hamida took place at a dinner hosted by Hindal’s mother, Dildar Begum. The girl’s pretty face and liquid eyes attracted Humayun who had had a dream earlier in which a sufi saint, Zinda Pir, had predicted that the emperor would marry a girl from his tribe who would give birth to one of the greatest rulers of the world.

Hamida happened to be the great-granddaughter of the pir. But she refused to marry him. It was a very depressing experience for a man who had just lost an empire. What made it worse was that Hamida even declined to meet him again. But with the help of Hindal and Dildar Begum a number of meetings were arranged and the girl, finally realising the worth of the man who was courting her, gave her consent.

From there the story is a well-known one, Humayun was on the road again as Hindal, fearing an attract by Sher Shah, advised him to leave. It was in the desert of Sindh that he sought shelter with the Rana of Umarkot and it was there that Hamida gave birth to a son. When the Rana became hostile Humayun was a fugitive again, and leaving the infant with his wife and trusted followers, he fled to Persia.The journey back to Delhi was a long one, Bega Begum had been captured by Sher Shah after the Battle of Chausa while Chand Bibi and Shad Bibi had presumably been drowned.

Sher Shah treated Bega Begum with respect. As a matter of fact he is said to have ordered that “no Moghul woman is to be enslaved or killed but sent to Haji Begum’s pavilion.” That was in 1539. But it seems that Humayun did not like Bega Begum very much. His sister Gulbadan Begum records that on the eve of the Battle of Chausa the Begum had told the emperor that he was giving her a raw deal. This so infuriated Humayun that he asked her to make a written apology and also promise that she would never make similar complaints in future.

Haji Begum is supposed to have been left behind when Humayun fled after his second defeat at the hands of Sher Shah. But some say that she was escorted back to his court by Khawas Khan, a nobleman attached to the Afghan chief. Perhaps her only fault was that she was too domineering and Humayun’s other wives, and also concubines, resented this. But her love for Humayun was great because she was the one who supervised the building of her husband’s tomb. Not only that, she brought 300 Arabs from Mecca to pray for the emperor’s soul. And hence the name Arab-ki-Sarai for the enclosure near the tomb. Incidentally, the dome of Humayun’s tomb is modelled after the dome of Taimur’s mausoleum in Samarkand.

Haji Begum died in 1581 and was mourned by Akbar who escorted her body to Humayun’s mausoleum, where she was buried. Hamida Banu Begum died in 1603 and was laid to rest in a crypt in Humayun’s tomb, the emperor accompanying her body to Delhi from Agra. Two years later Akbar himself died but to his dying day he missed Mariam Makani who, though his mother, was less than 15 years older than him and could have easily passed off as his elder sister.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> MetroPlus Delhi / Online Edition / Monday – April 28th, 2003

Return of the prince

THEATRE Playwright Danish Iqbal tells SWATI DAFTUAR about “Dara Shikoh”, a play that takes a look at one of Mughal India’s great lost names.

The cerebral MughalA scene from the play; (left) Danish Iqbal
The cerebral MughalA scene from the play; (left) Danish Iqbal

It is 1653, and the siege of Kandahar is raging. Dara Shikoh sits in his tent at night, writing his treatise on comparative religion. His general, a veteran and a contemporary of his great grandfather, enters with the request to discuss battle strategy for the next day. Dara Shikoh explains that for him, the treatise is more important. He doesn’t ask the general to sit down, showing him this respect only later, when the general’s conversation takes an intellectual turn.

This is a scene from “Dara Shikoh”, the modern classic directed by M.S. Sathyu and written by Danish Iqbal, which encapsulates the play’s portrayal of the young Mughal prince and heir apparent to Shah Jahan. The play, being performed after three years, is once again being directed by the eminent director and stage designer and art director M.S. Sathyu and presented by Impressario Asia. After a recent show in Gurgaon’s Epicentre, it will be performed this Friday at the India Habitat Centre in New Delhi.

The play, Iqbal believes, cannot be considered a revival. “It’s been performed on and off over the years. This time, it’s only got minor changes. It’s a little shorter now, and there are a few new scenes.”

It was ten years ago, in 2004, that Iqbal, who confesses that he only works on commission because he needs to know that the words he pens will be performed, was approached by K.K. Kohli of Impressario Asia, the play’s producer. It could easily have been action oriented, a harsh, blood and gore portrayal of a prince whose life ended brutally and violently, killed in a succession struggle by his own brother. Iqbal and Kohli, though, decided to go a different way. The Dara Shikoh that Iqbal has penned is a prince who respects intellect over privilege. He is an egoistical, liberal, peace loving man who ignored war and translated scriptures.

“Dara was, in my opinion, the greatest person in Mughal history. I think he was greater than Akbar too.” Iqbal, while researching his play, says that he was surprised to see that this giant had been ignored by history. In this play, he has been careful to highlight Dara to the maximum, not allowing Aurangzeb or Sufi Sarmad, Dara Shikoh’s mentor, to take the stage. “I was questioned about this, but I think that in the case of Aurangzeb, the fear of the invisible and unknown would be much greater. Plus I didn’t want Dara overshadowed in any way.”

The playwright also goes on to admit that he owes more than half his knowledge about writing and stage skills to Sathyu. “He’s a grand old man of Indian theatre. He has a terrific sense of aesthetics. He makes sketches of every scene before the performance, to work out how the stage characters, headgear, beards, dresses, everything would look. He’s a very meticulous person. It’s a pleasure working with him. His art work is tremendously beautiful.” Iqbal adds that while he has indeed provided the dialogues, characters and content of the play, they’ve been given shape by Sathyu.

The shape this play has taken seems strangely placed in the past and the present. For Iqbal, the play holds a sort of every day importance. “In the past 10 years the challenges to inclusiveness and coexistence have increased in a big way; people are more fanatic. And terrorism is a bigger threat than before. The play has actually become more relevant.” He terms Dara as the first prince who died for his ideals, and adds that “Dara Shikoh” is today’s play. “It is a metaphor. We discussed if this play, because of how it ends, was becoming too sad and tragic, but it was in his defeat and death that Dara’s principles emerged victorious. This is what we wanted the play to show.”

Iqbal, a student of philosophy, has written a work that plays with many concepts and ideas that affect and influence human existence. Of death, a quote from the play says, “ Maut kya hai, maut hai fakth ek dehleez ”, which loosely translates to mean that death is ultimately the first step to a door between one chamber and the next. That death, ultimately, is nothing.

In a play packed with such layered, ambiguous dialogues, Iqbal confesses that it has become hard to cast the right actors for the roles. “It’s a great challenge. We don’t have very good actors, and especially young actors lack the capacity to understand the nuances of the play, absorb its ideas and translate them into emotions and gestures. This requires intellectuals of a certain calibre, and not all actors can deliver. Often, the average actor only sees the superficial meaning of a dialogue. To overcome this, we have conducted workshops with the actors, to explain the multilayered aspects of play.” Iqbal adds that there are hardly any professional actors hired for this season of the play. “They have their jobs, and (we have) amateur actors who wanted to be part of the production.”

He’s holding a book on Pataudi, and as a closing remark, adds that he’s working on another story that gives him the goose bumps, that of Mansoor Ali Khan Pataudi. “Like Dara Shikoh, his story is also inspiring, and can reach people in manifold ways.”

Director M.S. Sathyu says, “We’ve only made minor changes in the play, and this time there is a new choreographer (Astha Dixit) and they’ve got trained Kathak dancers. The casting is always a problem, because this play requires a lot of Urdu and there are very few actors who can speak good Urdu. They can speak in Hindi and Punjabi but Urdu is a challenge.”

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> MetroPlus / by Swati Dastur / January 23rd, 2014