SULṬĀN QUṬBU-D-DĪN MUBĀRAK SHĀH IBN ‘ALĀU-D-DĪN KHILJĪ.

Ascended the throne of Dihlī with the consent of the Amīrs and Vazīrs in the early part of the year 717, H.* and ap­portioning appointments and suitable jāegīrs among his most trusted Amīrs, specially distinguished by promoting to high office one Ḥasan, Barāwar bacha,* who was very handsome, and had been brought as a captive from Mālwa. He had been the protégé of Malik Shādī Nāib-i-Khāṣṣ, the Hājib of Sulān ‘Alāu-d-Dīn. *

He gave him the title of Khusrū Khān. The tribe of Barāwar* are a family of servile position in Gujrāt; but now in the kingdom of Dihlī, the Sulān, to such an extent was he infatuated by his beautiful face, raised him, in spite of his unfitness for the office, to the trusted post of Vazīr.

Verse.
If thou desirest thy kingdom to be glorious
Give not high office to an upstart;
Unless thou wishest that thy state should be ruined
Entrust not thy affairs to the inexperienced.

And Sulān Qubu-d-Dīn, inasmuch as he had undergone the affliction of imprisonment, on the very first day of his reign had all the prisoners liberated, and appointed Malik Fakhru-d-Dīn Jūnā the Son of Ghāzī Malik, who eventually was entitled Muḥammad ‘Ādil, to be Mīr Ākhor.*

In the first year of his reign he contemplated the conquest of Deogīr otherwise called Daulatābād,* but his Amīrs opposed and dissuaded him.

Verse.
It was not deemed expedient, from motives of wisdom,
That the world's king should move from his place;
Who knows, what are the hidden designs of evil wishers, 204.
Or who, in all sincerity, is well disposed to the king?

In the year 718 H. (1318 A.D.) Sulān Qubu-d-Dīn sent Sar Salāḥī Kotwāl,* with orders to proceed to Gwāliār and put to death Khiẓr Khān and Shādī Khān. Having done this he sum­moned Dewal Rānī and included her in his ḥaram. With reference to this Mīr Khusrū writes:

Verses.
In short one who is acquainted with the secret of this mystery
In this way opened the door of this treasury of secrets,
That when the Sulān Mubārak Shāh in cruelty
Turned against his own kith and kin with anger and frown­ing,
He considered that the interests of the country demanded
their murder,
And thought that they deserved the sharp sword.
His object was to empty the country of noble men by mali­cious enterprise.
Secretly he sent a messenger to Khiẓr Khān
Making treacherous protestations of hearty good will
Saying, Oh thou shining light who remainest far from the
assembly,
Thy body ill at ease and thy countenance without light;
Thou knowest that this is none of my doing,
The oppressed remains while the oppressor disappears.
If thou art imprisoned, by the Lord of the world
When the time comes he himself will loosen these bonds.
In this matter haste and anxiety are not fitting,
An elephant extricates itself from the mire by patient en­deavour.
Now, we too are engaged in plumbing this matter
So that by clever contrivance we may free you from that
captivity.
If thou art fitted to become a king
We will make thee ruler over a wide kingdom.
But the affection for some one which springs in thy heart
Is not fitted for the loftiness of thy ambition.
Dewal Rānī who is but a handmaiden to thee,
For whom even were the moon needed as handmaid this were
an easy matter,
I have heard that she is so dear to thee
That thy cypress-like form stoops to kiss her feet.
This is not fitting that from shortsightedness
The king should be enslaved by a slave.
The gourd is in any case of no account in the garden
205. That it should attempt to raise its head in emulation of the
Chinār.
A straw which places its foot upon the face of the stream
Is carried hither and thither by the wind and buffeted by the
floods.*
[My heart's desire makes this request, that thou should'st give
up that mistress of thine.]
Since she went from here, send her back hither again
Send her to take her place at the foot of my throne.
When the infatuation of thy mind is somewhat less
We will send her back to thee to be thy handmaid.
When the messenger went and took back the message
Khiẓr Khān's heart no longer enjoyed any rest.
First he wept tears of blood which flooded his eyes and lips,
Then he sent back an answer mingled with blood
Saying, since the Shāh has attained his ambition in becoming
a sovereign,
He must leave Dewal Rānī to me.
If however you desire to deprive me of this wealth
You desire to see me despoiled of wealth and light.
Since this heart's delight holds her head as high as mine
Cut off my head, afterwards thou wilt know.
When the messenger, from that grief-stricken soul
Bore those fiery sighs to the palace of the king,
The Emperor waxed wrath from head to foot
From his heart he smiled, as lightning smiles in the cloud,
The flame of the fire of* enmity shot forth,
He who sought a pretext, was provided with a new one.*
In anger he sent for Sar Salāḥī (the Kotwāl)
Saying you must travel this day before nightfall a hundred
krohs;
Go to Gwāliār at this moment without delay,
And with the sword cut off the heads of the lions of the
country,
That I may be safe from the nobles of the country;
Because this disturbance, small as it is, risks the existence of
the country.
At his order the tyrant set out,
The pigeon was tied* by the foot and the hawk hungry.
In that day and night he travelled several leagues
He arrived and again imprisoned him intending (to kill him).*
He made known the orders he had received from the throne,
The garrison of the fort set about carrying out this severe
measure;
The ruthless soldiery entered shamelessly* into that pure 206.
place of chastity,
The veiled ladies* were thrown into consternation and screamed
so that the roof and doors shook with their cries.
In that palace every arrow-like beam* became curved like a
bow,
The day of resurrection became a guest in that Paradise;
From the corners of the rooms in great consternation
The male lions leapt forth in wrath,
The arms had lost their strength, and the bodies their power,
Force was dead, and wit had sunk to sleep.*
Shādī Khān Wālā waxed wrath, and sought aid from the
protection of God most High,
Nimbly he leapt upon the Kotwāl and fought with him for a
long time, threw him to the ground and sought for a sword
wherewith to slay him.
Inasmuch as he had lost his sword of victory
What did that unattainable strength avail him?
Allies ran up to help him from right and left
They fell one after the other and that fallen one rose up.
Each fierce (lion) was attacked by ten dogs,*
See how the dogs vent their wrath upon the lions,
Hey for the meanness of the cowardly sky
That permits dogs to hunt lions!
When they had forcibly bound those two prosperous chief­tains,
The time bound the hands of fortune and prosperity.
Those wondrous men fell into disgrace,
Blood-reeking swords appeared on every side
When the murderous clashing of daggers was heard,
The blood-thirsty murderer appeared from the door,
Hard as a rock,* source of grief, though his name was Shādī
(Joy)
As repulsive as the document of a dowry, and the grief
arising from debt.
Artful enough to depose Dajjāl* from his place,
Hideous enough to make Satan forgetful of his own ugliness;
On each side of his face was gathered a dark cloud,*
From every hair sprang a sword.*
Fierce wrath as cutting as the executioner's sword, 207.
A glance as piercing as the chisel of Farhād;*
His lips wreathed in an angry smile,
Through wrath seizing|his lips between his teeth
His one desire and wish was revenge and punishment,
From head to foot a statue of hatred and scorn;
When he gave the signal and brandished his sword on all sides*
Not one leapt like lightning from that mass of clouds.
May God have mercy!
How could anyone draw the sword of revenge upon that
crowd of moonlike faces.
Whose heart would not be torn with distracting grief
In pity for so many young and beautiful men?
Oh Lord! may the breast of heaven be rent a hundredfold
To think that it has brought so many noble ones to the dust.
How can you look for pity for the blood he sheds, in the heart
of the butcher?
Whose one desire is to see his knife stained with blood.
When the bloody butcher binds roses upon his head,
Why should he withhold his knife from the rose-like body?
Since no one of them desired that the sword should succeed
in shedding their blood,*
There leapt from their midst like a whirlwind
A man of low origin, a Hindū by birth
Dusky of hue, like to Ahriman,*
Nay! a thousand Ahrimans would stand aghast at his face;
Grief-increasing like the pleasure of those in distress,
Wrong in judgment like the intellect of young people;
Unlucky to look upon as a young owl,
Like a morning in Dai* at Ghaznīn cold and inhospitable;
Like the night of sorrow his forehead full of gloom,
Like the nature of a wicked man, accursed.
A lip like the sole of a ploughman's foot,
A cheek like the mouth of a man with paralysis;
That hideous one had a mouth like a helmet,
His smile like the yawning of a burst shoe;
Long whiskers twisted over his ears
His whiskers taking the place of the ring in the slave's ear;
Lightly he leapt out from the line of warriors,
[You would think that a wave of blood would burst from him, 208.
His skirt tucked up in his wrathful haste, his sleeves drawn
back for bloodshed.]*
He demanded a well-tempered sword from his officer,*
Drew it, and tightened up the skirt of his tunic;
[The head of that cypress-like noble fell from his shoulders
He who was renowned for his youth and beauty]*
Martyrdom was evident* in Khiẓr in that palace;
Just as the tree praises God when its branches put forth leaves
The heaven kept lamenting over his punishment;
The angels continually assisted him in his martyrdom,
Riẓwān threw open the gates of Paradise,
All the Hūrīs began to sing his praises.
From that martyr's shout of triumph which came forth from
the Shāh,
The sun and moon joined in the martyr's song.
When the dagger was raised aloft and the Shāh's face was
seen amid its clustering locks,
Lamentation arose in that assembly like* the roll of thunder;
The sun made his body a shield to protect him,
But Fate turned it on one side from before him.
When the sword of Fate severs the cord of Hope,
Neither sun nor moon can become a shield for thee;
With one blow which that ruthless one struck
He made the Shāh's head a guest in his bosom.
To wash away the blood, the revolving water-wheel of the sky
Required that the spring of the sun should yield all its blood;
But, since there was no longer a breath of life in his body,
Of what avail was it to wash the blood from the surface of it.
Dewal Rānī, who was a woman of dignity and beauty,
Was the lifespring of Khiẓr Khān's existence.
Since the Khiẓr of the sky had lain in ambush to slay him
That very well of life* of his became the sword of enmity.
When we look in this crystal globe carefully
Many life giving springs are also fatal to their Khiẓr.
The soul of the lover was poured out with his life blood,
But still was hovering round about the beloved one.
A rose from which thou ḥast tasted a pearl of dew,
Thou wilt shed thy blood* for it a hundred times.
Instead of rose water they drew his heart's blood from that
rose,
See how they (mercilessly) robbed him of his blood!