A review of Bazm-i Aakhir

by Munshi Faizuddin

translated from Urdu as The Last Gathering by Ather Farouqui 

(New Delhi: Roli Books), 2021

In recent times, popular interest in Mughal history has taken two forms. Either early Mughals are brought into heated conversations in order to communicate a stereotypical (and in many ways, propagandist) understanding of their being religious fanatics, or the later Mughals are emasculated so as to lay the entire blame for colonial occupation on their shoulders. Yet time and again, we come across many contemporary records effortlessly depicting undisrupted syncretism, a significant aspect of the cultured life of the Mughals. The book under review, originally written by Munshi Faizuddin and translated into English by Ather Farouqui, is one such text.

While Bazm-i Aakhir (The Last Gathering) describes mainly the daily rituals and the overall way of life of the last two Mughal emperors, Akbar Shah II (r. 1806–1837) and Bahadur Shah Zafar (r. 1837–1857), its importance in documenting continued religious pluralism of the Mughal period needs to be underscored. Munshi Faizuddin tells us that Shah Alam (r. 1760–1806) had an adopted Hindu sister who used to tie rakhi (sacred thread) on his wrist, a tradition that his successors Akbar Shah and Bahadur Shah maintained with the same Hindu woman's progeny. At the same time, festivals such as Dussehra, Diwali, and Holi were celebrated inside and outside the Mughal court till the last days of the empire. The Munshi (literally, secretary) gives us picturesque descriptions of these celebrations. Additionally, we also find a mention of Hussaini Brahmins as being present in the ‘Procession of Flower Sellers’. The Hussaini Brahmin sect is known to be a community with links to both Hinduism and Islam. Historically considered to be 'half Hindu' and 'half Muslim', they get their name from the legend according to which their ancestors fought alongside Imam Husain in the Battle of Karbala. Despite their heart-wrenching displacement during the course of the partition of the Indian subcontinent, their history has been pushed to the margins. Such a mention of the Hussaini Brahmins is rare in contemporary accounts of the period, and this not only adds to the significance of Bazm-i Aakhir but also brings us once again face-to-face with the reality of intermixed religious practices of the subcontinent.

As an account aimed at recording the manner of living of the last two emperors of Delhi, Bazm-i Aakhir is meticulously detailed. The translator should be credited, moreover, for successfully capturing the unmatched imagery of the Munshi's first-hand account, being brought up in the precincts of the Red Fort, and putting it into English words for wider readership in such a way that the reader can picture themselves in that place and witness the whole story with their own eyes. The translation brings to life the conversational style of the text, whereby the ingenious author coaxes the readers to 'Look!' at the emperor 'resting peacefully in his palace' with 'his feet being massaged by female masseurs'; to catch a glimpse of multi-coloured dishes being prepared throughout the day for consumption and distribution; to smell musk, saffron, and kevra (a fragrant flower) being sprinkled post-meal; to notice the head queen's nose ring 'with a pearl as big as a sparrow's egg'; to eavesdrop on the usual blabber and banter of the ladies' quarters; to hear the beating of drums announcing the advent of the evening and the bang of the cannon signalling the passage of one-and-a-half quarters of the night; and to experience the calm of the night as expert storytellers lull the emperor to sleep.

The details of the happenings of the fort are put down on paper in such a way that creates a perfect balance between extraordinariness and everydayness. We have the author create an overly dramatic effect with regard to the emperor's daily ritual of dressing up. He writes, 'See, the king puts on a gown and over it a chaar-qab (a western attire). He places a turban on his head, and a pearl ornament on the turban.' This is followed by an elaborate description of the emperor's jewels and ornaments. The portraiture is such that one is immediately reminded of Thomas Roe's use of 'theatre' as a metaphor for the Mughal court (Jahangir's court). In contrast, capturing relative ordinariness, the Munshi writes that on a certain occasion, the emperor 'dressed in pink from head to toe', leading everyone to wear pink, turning the sight into 'a huge garden of pink'. 

Likewise, we have a comprehensive account of the emperor's procession: 'See how majestically … the retinue moves ahead!' The grand spectacle is successfully captured in the pages of the book but the author also gives us an equally fascinating micro-vision into the scene. It is almost like in the process of making a film, the camera zooms on the tobacco in-charge for a moment. He is walking along the procession, and we get a glimpse of the burning embers that he carries. Grand rituals on the urs (death anniversaries) of various saints are similarly elaborately recounted but are delightfully punctuated with everydayness, as the author tells us that during a fair at Humayun's Tomb 'someone is caught in its labyrinth, wandering around without direction'; or he gives an account of the dancing that took place outside the tombs, the ritual bathing on such occasions, the loudness with which the hawkers attracted buyers, the kaleidoscopic view of kite fighting, and so on.

Everything from types of dishes, fabric, colours, embellishments, jewellery, footwear, fireworks; means of transportation; modes of entertainment; court procedures; the celebration of festivals such as Nauroz, Eid, Rakhi, Dussehra, Diwali, and Holi; to emperor's birthday, the anniversary of the emperor's coronation, and the royal funeral finds a place in the text. Particularly intriguing are the female-oriented rituals. The author, with his usual signposting, that is a defining feature of the text, writes, 'Let’s go and see the preparations being made inside for the sehnak', an occasion whereby prayers are performed and food is distributed to honour the memory of Fatima, the elder daughter of Prophet Mohammad. The rituals, as the author tells us, take place 'in a guarded house where not even the shadow of a man can fall'. Additionally, gender intrudes the text through a description of the 'Ladies' Garden'. Any good scholar of history reading the text would immediately question its authenticity considering the perceived seclusion of the Mughal women's quarters. What are the author's sources of information? Nevertheless, the reader finds herself engrossed in the authors listing of the many idioms that the women apparently used to ridicule each other. The mention of bondwomen and their adopted exotic names, Gulbahaar, Champa, Chameli, Gulchaman, Nargis, etc., as well as their characterization as 'witches, whores, skivers, shirkers' would also be undoubtedly interesting for any scholar working on the gendered aspect of the Mughal culture. 

As far as the translation is concerned, a necessary sensitivity towards the historical nature of the text is well-maintained and deserves appreciation. The author's unmistakable eye for detail is complemented by the translator’s laborious effort at decipherment. This is particularly noteworthy, keeping in view the tricky language of the text containing obscure terms and idioms. As pointed out by the translator himself, the language of Bazm-i Aakhir is, in fact, 'the typical language of Dilli-e marhoom, literally the deceased Delhi' alluding, however, to Delhi of the past and was hence 'an admixture of many things'. At the same time, Farouqui also touches upon the social background of the author, which may have influenced his knowledge of the Urdu language. Thus, according to him, the language of Bazm-i Aakhir is not as polished, considering the author was only a Munshi belonging to a class of officials responsible for reading and writing clerical documents. However, it should be kept in mind that the significance of the text lies in the fact that the Munshi lived inside the fort, and hence, chronicled personal experience. That said, it cannot be generalized that the language of the Munshis was by default unpolished. Chandar Bhan Brahman, for instance, appears to have begun his career as a news-writer but went on to gain recognition as a celebrated Mughal poet. He ultimately held the office of secretary in the department of the imperial exchequer in the second half of the seventeenth century, demonstrating that literary refinement was not beyond the reach of bureaucratic scribes.

Prefacing the book with a translator's note, Farouqui also raises the subject of the dating of the original text, supposedly written and immediately published in 1885. Moreover, we find an insightful discussion on the various surviving manuscripts (and published versions) of the text. Both these facets related to the source material are of primary importance, lodging the text in its encompassing context of time and space. The note also records the translator's wearying but ultimately rewarding journey of translating, discarding, and re-translating the text. Limitations in finding appropriate meanings for a few obscure words are also self-professed. The very practice of accepting gaps in existing knowledge, when doubt and uncertainties become a part of narration, is what makes any work participatory. In other words, the readers themselves become a part of the research process, instead of mere spectators of the end-result, adding to the appeal of any work. Thus, Farouqui's translation of Bazm-i Aakhir turns out to be a compelling read not only for scholars of history but a wider audience. 

Lastly, it would be of no less interest to note that the Munshi's self-declared objective in writing Bazm-i Aakhir was 'to record, truthfully, the style of living of the two last kings of Delhi' in order to 'satisfy the curiosity of future generations'. In writing the text, he takes help from the elders who had 'seen the events unfolding with their own eyes' or those 'who had heard its tales from their elders with their own ears'. After the passing of these generations, the author feels that 'these descriptions' would, as a matter of fact, 'be entrusted to oblivion'. However, it would not be an exaggeration to say that, fortunately, conscientious translations such as Farouqui’s The Last Gathering save Munshi Faizuddin's 'live portrait' of the life in the Red Fort, during the empire's last days, from the very depths of oblivion.