The Thirteenth New Year’s Feast

On this day I presented Brikha Rāy bād-farūs͟h (panegyrist) with Rs. 1,000. He is a Gujarātī by origin, and is fully versed in the chronicles and circumstances of that country. His name was Būnṭā—that is, a sapling (nihāl). It seemed to me that it was anomalous to call an old man Būnṭā, especially now that he had become verdant (sar-sabz) and fruit-bearing through the irrigation (saḥāb, literally, cloud, or mirage) of our kindness. I therefore ordered that henceforth he should be called Brikha Rāy. Brikha means “tree” in Hindī. On Friday, the 7th of the aforesaid month, corresponding with the 1st Jumāda-l-awwal, at a chosen propitious hour, I entered the city of Ahmadabad with all enjoyment. At the time of mounting, my son of prosperous fortune, S͟hāh-Jahān, had brought 20,000 charan, or Rs. 5,000, for the nis̤ār (scattering), and I scattered them as I hastened to the palace. When I alighted there he laid before me by way of an offering a jewelled ṭurra (aigrette) of the value of Rs. 25,000, and those of his officers whom he had left in this Subah also presented offerings. They altogether amounted to nearly Rs. 40,000. As it was represented to me that K͟hwāja Beg Mīrzā Ṣafawī had reached the neighbourhood of the forgiveness of God—i.e., had died—at Aḥmadnagar, I promoted to a mansab of 2,000 personal and horse, original and increased, K͟hanjar K., whom he had adopted as his son, and, indeed, held dearer than a son of his loins, and who was in truth, an intelligent, ambitious youth, and a servant worthy of patronage, and entrusted him with the charge of the fort of Ahmadnagar.

I had already called Aḥmadābād Gardābād (the abode of dust).”

“For the care of the people of God

At night I make not mine eyes acquainted with sleep;

For the ease of the bodies of all

I approve of pain for my own body.”

At this time it was represented to me that the Commander-in-Chief, the Ātālīq K͟hān-k͟hānān, as a sequel to the celebrated line, “For every rose one must bear the pain of a hundred thorns,” had written an ode, and that Mīrzā Rustam Ṣafawī and Mīrzā Murād, his son, had also tried their skill. An impromptu opening couplet came into my mind:

There are many clouds, much wine should be poured.”

“My burning heart hath melted my body with separation’s pang;

A soul-consuming sigh burnt me, as ’twere a lamp.

The day of my joy became black like the night of grief,

Separation from thee hath made my day like this.”

On Thursday, the 10th, Nāhir K. was promoted to the manṣab of 1,500 personal and 1,000 horse, and he was presented with an elephant. Maktūb K., superintendent of the Kutub-k͟hāna (library), was given the manṣab of 1,500 personal. As I had ordered that on the S͟hab-i-Barāt they should place lamps round the Kānkrīya tank, at the end of the day on Monday, the 14th Shaʿbān, I went out to look at them. The buildings all round the tank they had arranged with lanterns of different colours and all kinds of artifices that are practicable with lamps, and fireworks. Although at this season there were continually clouds and rain, by God’s favour from the beginning of the night the air had become clear, and not a trace of cloud remained, and the lights shone just as one could wish. My domestic servants were regaled with the cups of joy. I ordered them to light lamps in the same manner on the eve of Friday, and a strange thing was that at the close of the day of Thursday, the 17th, it continually rained (muttaṣil bārīdagī), but at the time of lighting the lamps the rain ceased, and the show was well seen. On this day Iʿtimādu-d-daula presented an offering of a qut̤bī (?) sapphire exceedingly delicate, and an elephant without tusks with silver housings. As it was handsome-looking and of good shape, it was put among my private elephants. On the bank of the Kānkrīya tank a sanyāsī, one of the most austere sects of Hindus, had made a hut after the dervish manner, and lived as a hermit. As I was always inclined to associate with dervishes, I hastened without ceremony to interview him, and for a while enjoyed his society. He was not wanting in information and reasonableness, and was well informed according to the rules of his own faith in the doctrines of Sufism. He had conformed to the ways of people of religious poverty and mortification, and given up all desires and ambitions. One might say that a better than he of his class was never seen.

During this season, as there was still some of the hunting time left, Gajpat K., the darogha, and Balūch K., the head huntsman, had been left to hunt elephants, to catch as many as they possibly could. In the same manner the huntsmen of my son, S͟hāh-Jahān, had also been employed. On this day they came and waited on me. Altogether 185 elephants had been caught, male and female: of these, 73 were males and 112 females. Out of these, 47 males and 75 females, or 122, the imperial huntsmen and faujdārs had secured, while the huntsmen and elephant-drivers of my son, S͟hāh-Jahān, had taken 26 males and 37 females, or 63 altogether.

On Sunday there was a great commotion in the River Māhī, and very large waves were visible. Although there formerly had been (great) rains, yet such violence, or even the half of it, had never been known. From the beginning of the day the flood began to come, and at the end of the day began to decrease. Old inhabitants of this city represented that once, during the government of Murtaẓā K. (Farīd Buk͟hārī), a similar great flood had occurred. But with that exception they did not remember another such flood.

“O thou whose commands heaven obeys

Ancient Saturn is the slave of thy young Fortune.”

“O thou, of whose threshold the nine spheres are an examplar

Aged Time hath grown young in thy reign

Thy heart is bounteous as the Sun, and like it needs no cause (for bounty).

All lives are devoted to thy gracious heart

Tossed by thy gardener into the atmosphere,

O God, Thy essence has shone from eternity

The souls of all the saints receive light from Thine,

O king, may the world ever be at thy beck,

May thy S͟hāh-Jahān ever rejoice in thy shade

O Shadow of God, may the world be filled with thy light

May the Light of God ever be thy canopy.”

“The seat of the S͟hāh of the seven worlds (kis͟hwar),

Jahāngīr, son of Akbar S͟hāhins͟hāh.

“Thou art the mighty One, O Lord,

Thou art the cherisher of rich and poor;

I’m not a world-conqueror or law-giver,

I’m one of the beggars at this gate.

Help me in what is good and right,

Else what good comes from me to any one?

To the Lord I’m a loyal servant.”

All the Faqirs who as yet had not waited on me prayed for allowances. According to their merits I gave to each of them land or money for expenses, and gratified them.

“How well said Firdūsī of pure nature

May mercy rest on that (his) pure tomb.

He lives with pleasure, and he dies with pain.”

As ʿĀdil K. was constantly asking for a likeness of myself through my prosperous son S͟hāh-Jahān, I sent him one with a ruby of great value and a special elephant. A gracious farman was issued that he should be presented with whatever territory of Niz̤āmu-l-mulk or Qut̤bu-l-mulk he might get into his possession, and whenever he should require any support and assistance, S͟hāh-nawāz K. should prepare an army and appoint it to assist him. In former days Niz̤āmu-l-mulk was the largest of the rulers of the Deccan, a superior whom all acknowledged, and whom they considered as their eldest brother. At this period ʿĀdil K. did approved service, and was honoured with the exalted title of “son.” I appointed him the head and leader of the whole country of the Deccan, and wrote this quatrain on the portrait with my own hand:

“O thou towards whom is always (turned) the eye of my kindness

Repose at ease under the shadow of my fortune.

I have sent thee my own portrait,

That thou mayest see me spiritually from my picture.”

My son S͟hāh-Jahān sent Ḥakīm K͟hūs͟h-ḥāl, son of Ḥakīm Humām, who was one of the excellent house-born ones of this Court, and from his early years had been in my son’s service, in company with the Wakils of ʿĀdil K. to convey to him the good news of the Jahāngīrī favour towards him. On the same day Mīr Jumla was honoured with the duty of ʿArẓ-mukarrir. As Kifāyat K., the Diwan of Gujarat, at the time when he was employed in the Dīwānī of Bengal, in consequence of certain accidents, had lost property (az sāmān uftāda), a sum of Rs. 15,000 was presented to him.

This year I had mangoes up to the 6th Mihr (middle of September). In this country there is abundance of lemons (līmūn), and they are large (bālīda?). A Hindu brought some from a garden called Kākū (or Gangū), which were very pleasant and large (bālīda, perhaps ripe). I ordered them to weigh the largest of them, and it came to 7 tolas.

On Saturday, the 6th, the Dasahrā festival took place. First, they decked out my horses, and paraded them before me. After that they produced the elephants, decorated in a similar way.

On Thursday, the 25th, a wine-feast was held on the banks of the Māhī, and some of my intimate servants who had admittance to such assemblies had their hearts delighted by brimming cups and ample favours. Certainly it was an entrancing halting-ground. I stayed here four days for two reasons—first, because of the beauty of the spot, and secondly in order that the people might not be confused in crossing the river.

“He was skin drawn over bones.”

“If my shadow do not hold my leg

I shall not be able to stand till the Resurrection

Nor, from weakness, does my soul see a refuge

Where it may for a while rest on my lips.”

As it was a very extraordinary case I directed painters to take his portrait. In fact, I found him wonderfully changed. I said to him: “Beware; in your present state do not for a moment forget God, nor despair of His mercy! If Death grant you quarter (amān), regard the reprieve as a time for apologizing and for amendment. If your life has come to its close, consider every moment passed in remembrance of God as gain. Trouble not your head about those you are leaving behind. A slight claim of service is a great thing with us.” As they had spoken to me about his poverty, I gave him Rs. 2,000 for road-expenses, and let him go. Next day he travelled the road of non-existence.

As my son S͟hāh-Jahān had not made a birthday entertainment for his son (Aurangzīb), he petitioned at Ujain, which is the place of his jagir, that the Thursday entertainment of the 30th should be held at his abode. Of necessity, having consented to the carrying out of his wish, the day was passed in enjoyment at his quarters. My private servants who have the entrée into this kind of parties and assemblies were delighted with brimming cups. My son S͟hāh-Jahān brought that auspicious child before me, and, presenting as offerings a tray of jewels, and jewelled ornaments, and fifty elephants, thirty male and twenty female, asked me for a name for him. Please God it will be given him in a favourable hour. Of his elephants seven were included in my private stud; the rest were distributed among the faujdārs. The value of the offerings that were accepted will be Rs. 200,000.

On this day ʿAẓudu-d-daula (Jamālu-d-dīn Ḥusain Anjū) came from his jagir, and had the good fortune to kiss the threshold. He gave eighty-one muhars as naẕr, and an elephant as an offering. Qāsim K., whom I had dismissed from the government of Bengal, had been sent for, and having had the good fortune to do homage, presented 1,000 muhars as naẕr. On Friday, the 1st of Āẕar, I amused myself with hawking. As the retinue passed along, a field of millet (jwār) was met with. Though generally a stem has only one head, each of them had twelve. I was astonished, and at this time the tale of “The King and the Gardener” occurred to me.

A King came to the gate of a garden in the heat of the day. He saw an old gardener standing at the gate, and asked him if there were any pomegranates in the garden. He said: “There are.” He told him to bring a cup of pomegranate juice. The gardener had a daughter adorned with grace of person, and beauty of disposition. He made a sign to her to bring the pomegranate juice. The girl went and at once brought a cup full of pomegranate juice, and placed some leaves upon it. The King took it from her hand and drank it. Then he asked the girl what was her reason for placing leaves on the top of the juice. She, with an eloquent tongue and a sweet voice, represented that it was not wise at once to drink off a quantity of liquid when he was bathed in perspiration, and in such a hot air. On this account she had placed the leaves on the liquid by way of precaution, so that he might drink it slowly. The King was greatly pleased with her sweet ways, and it crossed his mind to admit the girl into his Palace. After this he asked the gardener: “How much profit do you derive from this garden every year?” He answered: “Three hundred dīnārs.” The King asked: “What do you pay the Diwan (tax-collector)?” He answered: “The King takes nothing from the trees, but takes a tenth of the cultivated crops.” It came into the King’s mind that there were in his dominions many gardens and countless trees. If he were to get a tenth of the garden produce as well, it would amount to a large sum, and there would be no great loss to the cultivator. Hereafter he would order a tax to be levied on garden produce. He said then: “Bring me a little more pomegranate juice.” The girl went, and after a long time brought a small quantity. The King said: “The first time thou camest quickly, and broughtest more. This time thou didst stay a long time, and broughtest less.” The girl said: “The first time I had filled the cup with the juice of one pomegranate, and brought it; this time I pressed out five or six pomegranates and did not get as much juice.” The astonishment of the King increased. The gardener represented: “The blessing of produce depends on the goodwill of the King. It occurs to me that you must be a King. At the time when you inquired of me the income from the garden, your disposition must have changed. Consequently the blessing passed away from the fruit.” The Sultan was impressed, and drove that idea out of his heart. He then said: “Bring me once more a cup of pomegranate juice.” The girl went again, and quickly bringing a cup full to the brim, gave it, smiling and gladly, into the Sultan’s hand. He praised the intelligence of the gardener, and explained the actual state of affairs, and begged the girl of him in marriage, and married her.

On Saturday, for the second time, my desire for the company of Jadrūp increased. After performing the midday devotions, I embarked in a boat and hastened to meet him, and at the close of day I ran and enjoyed his society in the retirement of his cell. I heard many sublime words of religious duties and knowledge of divine things. Without immoderate praise, he sets forth clearly the doctrines of wholesome Sufism, and one can find delight in his society. He is sixty years old. He was twenty-two years of age, when, forsaking all external attachments, he placed the foot of determination on the highroad of asceticism, and for thirty-eight years he had lived in the garment of nakedness. When I took leave he said: “In what language can I return thanks for this gift of Allah that I am engaged in the reign of such a just King in the worship of my own Deity in ease and contentment, and that the dust of discomposure from any accident settles not on the skirt of my purpose?”

On Sunday, the 3rd, marching from Kāliyādaha, I encamped at the village of Qāsimkhera. I employed myself on the road in hawking. By chance a crane rose, and the tūyg͟hūn falcon, of which I am very fond, was let fly after it. The crane sought to escape, and the falcon soared and flew so high as to disappear from sight. Although the huntsmen and the head-beaters ran after it in all directions, they found no trace of it, and it was impossible for the falcon to be caught in such a desert. Las͟hkar Mīr Kas͟hmīrī, who is the head of the Kashmir huntsmen, in whose charge the falcon was, ran in a bewildered state through the desert in all directions without finding a sign or trace. Suddenly he saw a tree in the distance, and when he went up to it he found the falcon sitting on the end of a branch. Showing a domestic fowl, he called to the falcon. Three gharīs more had not passed when he brought it to me. This gift from the hidden world, that had entered into the thoughts of no one, increased the joy of my mind. Increasing his mansab as a reward for this service, I gave him a horse and a dress of honour.

On Sunday, the 17th, I crossed Ghāṭī Chānḍā. On Monday, the 18th, the Jān-sipār Ātālīq K͟hān-k͟hānān, Commander-in-Chief, had the honour of kissing the threshold. As he had been absent from my presence for a long time, and the victorious retinue was passing by near the Sarkars of Khandesh and Burhānpur, he asked to wait upon me, and an order was given that if his mind were at ease in all respects, he should come unattended and return quickly. He accordingly came with all speed, and had the good fortune to pay his respects on this day, and, having been exalted by the receipt of all kinds of royal favours and kingly benefits, he presented an offering of 1,000 muhars and Rs. 1,000.

“My congenial friends have left me:

One by one they’ve fallen into the hands of death.

They were poor drinkers at the banquet of life.

At this time I also heard another quatrain of the same description, which I have recorded because it was very well said:

“Alas! that people of intelligence and wisdom have passed away.

They have been forgotten in the minds of their contemporaries.

Those who spoke with a hundred tongues

Ah! what heard they that they became silent.”

“In an hour which agreed with two almanacs (?) (or which marked two events),”

“O God, open the rosebud of hope

By chance, on Tuesday, during the hunting, a string of pearls and rubies that Nūr-Jahān Begam had on her neck was broken, and a ruby of the value of Rs. 10,000 and a pearl worth Rs. 1,000 were lost. Although the huntsmen made every search for it on Wednesday, it did not fall into their hands. It occurred to me that as the name of the day was Kam-s͟hamba, it was impossible to find it on that day. On the contrary, as Mubārak-s͟hamba (Thursday) was always a lucky day for me, and had been blessed to me, the huntsmen on that day with but a little search found both in that track-less place (without head or foundation) and brought them to me. The best of coincidences was that on the same propitious day the entertainment for my lunar weighing and the feast of Basant-bārī (Spring festival) also took place, and the good news of the conquest of the fort of Mau and the defeat of that evil-fortuned Sūraj Mal arrived.

On Thursday, the 24th, K͟hwāja Jahān presented an offering of jewels, jewelled vessels, cloths, an elephant, and a horse, of the value of Rs. 150,000. Having made a selection from them, I gave him the remainder. Until Saturday I passed my time in that garden of delight in enjoyment. On the eve of Sunday, the 27th, I inclined the reins of returning towards Fatḥpūr, and an order was given that the great Amirs, according to annual custom, should decorate the palace. On Monday, the 28th, I found that something had gone wrong with my eye. As it arose from too much blood, I ordered ʿAlī Akbar, the surgeon, to open a vein. On the next day the benefit of this was apparent. I bestowed Rs. 1,000 on him. On Tuesday, the 29th, Muqarrab K. came from his native place, and had the good fortune to kiss the threshold, and I favoured him with many sorts of kindness.