FROM THE TELEGRAPH OF 31 MAY 2005
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SAHIRAH
ZULAIKHA
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Zulaikha was Qainah in the palace of
Suhrab Kaiqubad and Malika Drvaspa. She was Hirkil and Chamani. She looked
Nazuk, Shirin and Lamis. She had Surayya. All the Ramishin were Mashuf about
her. The Shahbano's Duruz dressed her in Munir garments. The Gavan crowded on
the back seats when she went to Kanisah with her Khushkhal Hur friends '
Mehrunnisa, Shahrnaz, Arnawaz and Armaiti. But she was Rohini. No one had
drunk her Nush. She waited for her Shabab.
Then one day, Rustahm sent the Marzuban
of Khurasan to King Kaiqubad and his Shahbano with a Risalat inviting them to
visit his Imran. He wrote, 'Dawud Hvazata Nausherwan Talyarkhan! I send you
my Nawwab Ruknudduniya with a Munim Nazr of a Tigh and an Ispar made of Timur.
It is the month of Farwardin, Mitra is no longer so hot, the Shihab of Shi'ra
has risen again in Mashriq, and Manzum are about to set. Hamza and Namir are
stalking the Gao and the Ghazal again. Why don't you be my Mahman at
Maidhyomah' We will go and catch Ninan and do Shikar of Iyyal. By the way, I
understand you have a Srira Shaira in your harem who composes Nazm and sings
like a Parindokht. She is a Farid Mufliq of Marghul. Why don't you bring her,
and we will enjoy ourselves in my Gulbagh'
When Padsrob received the Paigam, he
went to his Malika's Bostan, was Hamkinar, gave her a Bosak and asked her for
a Paighalah. He then called Kanisah Zulaikha and told her, 'My Nastaran! My
Nilofar! My Nargis! My Shaqirah! Methinks this Kisra is Dilresh about you; he
wants to be your Saqi-e-Kausar. I will be Farhan to take you to his Riasat,
but I won't unless you are going to be Naushad with him.'
Zulaikha replied, 'Shah Jehan! You are
my Haris. Rustahm may be Kaizad; but I have heard he is Pilsam. Give me a
Hafta, and I will give you Jaibat.' Then this Mauji Mazda went to Kanisah
with her friends, and sang an Ilhan full of Tashbib. It drew all the Azib
Parwanahs of the Shahr. The Buham swayed in Farah as if they were full of
Sabayat; each of them dreamt of a Nigar, Kulsum Hambaz. Every Shabbat found
herself with a Naushah. There was much Shokhi; by the end of the week, every
Salil and Raudah had become a Kardan of Ishq.
At the end of the week, Zulaikha went
and did Taslim to the Tajbano, and said to her, 'Mihrbano! Your Damik has now
become Shalimar. I do not want to go to Shahrukh Rustahm even if he gives me
a hundred Satvesh Sariyya.'
Rustahm was Lajlaj for a Saniyah when he
got Zulaikha's Payam; he felt like a Bashutan. But then Tamiz dawned on him.
He was Saudagar; he thought her Rikaz was bigger than his Khazanah. He took
off his Daihim and Qiliq, drew Nuzar from his Qusta, got into his Khuniras,
went to the kingdom of Kaiqubad, and became Zulaikha's Isshiq and a Mujib
Ustad of Shaftaluj. Zulaikha became his Qutb-i-Jahan. His Khushi reached its
Qimmat.
That is to say: The wondrously beautiful
one who made men slip was a singer in the palace of the illustrious, exalted
king and the queen with two horses. She had a proud and graceful walk. She
looked elegant, sweet and delicate. She had beautiful teeth. All the
musicians were in love with her. The Queen's tailors dressed her in
glittering garments. The valiant warriors crowded on the back seats when she
went to the church with her black-eyed, black-haired friends ' Woman of the
Sun, Pride of the City, Speaker of Truth and Archangel of Wisdom ' on whose
skins moles looked good. But she was made of Indian steel. No one had drunk
her lips. She waited for her young man.
Then one day, Lord of Steel sent the
governor of the City of the Rising Sun to the Exalted King and His Queen with
two horses and a message inviting them to visit his civilization. He wrote,
'Dearest High-born, Everlasting King, Lord of good fortune! I send you my
deputy, Pillar of the World, with a generous present of a steel sword and
shield. It is the month of the guardian angel, sun is no longer so hot, the
star Sirius has risen again in the east, and Pleiades are about to set. The
lion and the leopard are stalking the cow and the deer again. Why don't you
be my guest in the middle of the month' We will go and catch fish and hunt
stags. By the way, I understand you have a beautiful poetess in your harem
who composes songs and sings like the daughter of an angel. She is a unique
producer of masterpieces in rising and falling tones. Why don't you bring
her, and we will enjoy ourselves in my flower garden'
When the Exalted King received the
message, he went to his Queen's perfumed garden, gave her a hug and a kiss
and asked for a goblet of wine. He then called the slender, slippery beauty
and told her, 'My white rose of India! My red or white water-lily! My
narcissus! My anemone! Methinks this monarch is mad about you; he wants to
give you a drink from the river Kausar in paradise. I will be happy to take
you to his dominion, but I won't unless you are going to be happy with him.'
The slippery beauty replied, 'King of
the World! You are my protector. Lord of Steel may be royally born; but I
have heard he has an elephant's legs. Give me a week, and I will give you an
answer.' Then this happy-go-lucky wise woman went to the church with her
friends, and sang a song full of feelings of love. It drew all the single
butterflies of the town. The gallant heroes swayed in happiness as if they
were full of wine; each of them dreamt of a beautiful, rosy-cheeked
companion. Every girl found herself with a bridegroom. There was much
playfulness; by the end of the week, every young man and woman had become a
Prime Minister of love.
At the end of the week, the slippery
beauty went and did an obeisance to the Queen, and said to her, 'Lady of
love! Your territory has now become the abode of love. I do not want to go to
royal-faced Lord of Steel even if he gives me a hundred palaces, each with a
hundred servants.'
The Lord of Steel was perplexed for a
minute when he got the message of the slippery beauty; he felt like a monkey.
But then sense dawned on him. He was curious; he thought she had a bigger
hidden treasure than his. He took off his crown and sword, drew gold from his
banker, got into his shining chariot, went to the kingdom of the Excellent
King, and became the lover of the slippery beauty and an admirable master of
the kiss. The slippery beauty became the centre of his universe. His
happiness reached its peak.
If you want to know how this story
continues, make it up with The Complete Book of Muslim and Parsi
Names of Maneka Gandhi and Ozair Husain (Penguin, Delhi).
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