(Continued excerpts from The Last Mughal by William Dalrymple)
For Sir Thomas Metcalfe, a little to the south at the Residency offices of Ludlow Castle in the Civil Lines, the day's work was also nearly done: his various meetings were finished, the queries from the kotwal and courts were answered, his letters were written, and the news from the Palace had been studied, summarised and forwarded to Agra and Calcutta.
Soon after 1pm, as Sir Thomas was heading back to Metcalfe House in his carriage, his day's work completed, things were just beginning to stir in the Red Fort.
Zafar was quite capable of rising early if a hunting expedition was in store but after a
mushaira or a
mehfil, he preferred to lie long abed.His day would begin with 'the arrival of the water women coming bearing silver basin and silver water pots. Morning prayers would follow, after which Dr Chaman Lal was on hand to rub olive oil in to Zafar's feet. A light breakfast followed during which the metre and rhyme pattern for the evening's
mushaira might be discussed. Then Zafar would take a quick round of the Palace, escorted by his troupe of Abyssinian, Turkish and Tartar women guards, all of whom wore male military dress and were armed with bows and a quiver of arrows.
Afterwards, Zafar would attend to petitions, receive visits and gifts from his gardeners, shikaris and fishermen, administer justice; and then receive his
ustad Zauq, who would help correct his latest verses. Occasionally, he might also receive his own pupils for composition and help correct their verses. 'Zafar was madly in love with poetry'.
A serious princely education at this period put great stress on the study of logic, philosophy, mathematics, astronomy, law and medicine. It was also expected, as in the courts of Renaissance Europe, that any truly civilised prince should be able to compose verse.
In his youth, Zafar was himself fluent in Urdu, Arabic and Persian, but had also mastered Brij Bhasha and Punjabi sufficiently to write verse in both. He was also, in his youth, a renowned rider, swordsman and archer and remained a crack shot with a rifle in to old age.
Breakfast in the Red Fort would often coincide with the light tiffin lunch served at 1pm in the cantonment.
For three hours, during seven months of the year, the Delhi afternoon heat emptied the streets, leaving them deserted: a blazing white midnight clearing the lanes and galis, and hushing the city in to uncharacteristic silence. In the cantonments, the sweating young soldiers tossed and turned on their beds, shouting to the punkah-wallah outside to pull harder.
In the city, however, inside the cool shade of the courtyards of the high-ceilinged
havelis, life would continue as normal: the
khas screens made of fragrant grass would be soaked in scented water and then raised over the arcades of cusped arches; beautifully woven shamianas would be raised in the projecting eves of the
baradari pavilions. Those who had cool underground
tehkhanas would retreat there, to continue uninterrupted the day's chores - sewing, letter writing and teaching the smaller children - and pleasures - smoking and playing cards,
pachchisi and chess.
It was only towards late afternoon, around five o'clock, that things began to stir above ground and life returned to Delhi streets. The
bhistis would be the first out, emptying their goatskins of water on the dust and chaff covering the roads; in their booths, the
paan-wallahs would begin preparing their betel leaves; the
kakkar-wallah or hookah-man would begin roaming the dhabas; the opium shops would soon be doing good business too. In the sufi shrines, the pace would also quicken, as the thin stream of afternoon devotees thickened to the crowds of evening, as the thin stream of afternoon devotees thickened to the crowds of evening,as the rose-petal sellers in the lanes near by woke from their squatting slumbers, and the qawwals with their tablas and harmoniums struck up the qawwalis: Allah hoo, Allah hoo, Allah hoo..."
Zafar, meanwhile, was settling down to his favourite early evening occupation of watching his elephants being bathed in the river below his apartment or looking at the fishermen at work. This was followed by an evening of airing among the orange trees of the Palace gardens, sometimes on foot but usually in a palanquin. Occassionally, when Zafar was feeling energetic, he would descend to the riverbank and go fishing, or spend the evening flying kites on the sand near Salimgarh. Sometimes he would send for Ghalib to keep him company and entertain him, though Ghalib did not much enjoy being an attentive courtier and found the whole experience fatiguing.
(Continued..)
Also in the series:
Delhi - Those Times and Lives - 1
Delhi - Those Times and Lives - 2
Delhi - Those Times and Lives - 3
Delhi - Those Times and Lives - 4
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