It is said that Chhota Amrání, brother of Dalú Ráí Amrání, was
so much grieved at his brother's injustice which occasioned the ruin
of the city of Alor, and clouded the prosperity of the city of Bhám-
In short, as we have before said, in A.H. 720 (1320 A.D.) Ghází Malik march on Dehli, with an army collected from Multán and Sind, and overthrew Khusrú Khán. Then, ascending the throne, he assumed the style and title of Ghiásu-d din Tughlik Sháh, and devoted himself to the government of his new dominions.
The Súmras then collected a force from the neighbourhood of
Tharí, and placed a man named Súmra on the throne. He settled
the frontier of his country, and married the daughter of a zamíndár
named Sád, who had set up a claim to independence. To him was
born a son named Bhúngar, who on his death succeeded him in the
government. After him, his son Dúdá brought the country as far
as Nasrpúr into his possession. Dúdá died, leaving a son of tender
age, named Singhár, so Tárí, daughter of Dúdá, took the government
into her hands, but made it over to her brother when he
arrived at years of discretion. Singhár pushed his way in the
direction of Kach, and subjected the country as far as Báng-nai.
He left no son, so his wife Hemú appointed her brothers to the
government of the cities of Túr and Tharí. After a brief interval,
a Súmra named Dúdá, who was ruling in the fort of Dhak, assembled
his brethren from all sides, and extirpated the brethren of
Hemú. At this juncture Dádu Phatú, a descendant of Dúdá, rebelled,
and collecting a foreign force, he for some time carried
on the government. After him, Khairá became ruler. Then
Armíl became the master of the state. So the Sammas rebelled
and slew him. This happened in the year 752 Hijra (1351
A.D.). The history of this family, from its rise to its fall, the
number of its princes, and the causes of its decline, are very discordantly
narrated. Thus the Muntakhabu-t Tawáríkh says that when
the sovereignty was inherited by 'Abdu-r Rashíd, son of Mahmúd,
of Ghazní, it was soon perceived that he was lethargic and weak-
One of the most remarkable events of his (Hamír Súmra's) time is the story of Múmal and Mendra, which is told thus:—A woman named Múmal, of the family of the Gújar chiefs, on the death of her father, ruled over his lands, and built a lofty palace on the outskirts of the city, outside which she, by magic art, conducted a stone canal like a river across the entrance of the palace; and she planted two life-like lions of terrible aspect, cut in stone, at the doorway, and within the ordinary sitting-room seven sofas were placed, covered with stuff of one design, six of which coverings were made of unspun thread, and underneath each sofa a deep well was dug. She then caused it to be given out that she would choose for her husband him who should pass the river and the lions, and sagaciously seat himself on the right seat. Many men were tempted to a trial, but none attained their object; nay, they stepped into the well of annihilation.
One day, Hámir Súmra went out hunting with three of his suite, one of whom was Ráná Mendra, his minister's wife's brother. He happened to meet a travelling Jogí, who so extolled the beauty of Múmal, that Hámir Súmra felt a great desire to see her. Taking his attendants with him, they turned their heads to the direction indicated, and on reaching its vicinity put up within view of the palace. Múmal, on learning of their arrival, despatched a sharp slave girl to ascertain their quality, and bring the most important person of the party to be hospitably entertained.
First Hamír went with the girl, but she outstripped him; and he, on beholding that deep imaginary river, returned without attaining his object, and for very shame said nothing. The next night the girl came again, and bade one of the other strangers accompany her, but he also returned as Hamír had done. On the third night, the same thing happened to the third man. On the fourth night, Ráná Mendra set out with the girl, and when she wished to precede him, according to her custom, he seized the skirt of her garment, and put her behind, saying that it was not proper for slave girls to precede their masters. When he reached the visionary river he was puzzled for a moment. On sounding the depth of the water with the lance which he had in his hand, he found it had no real existence. He at once passed over, and saw the lions at the gate, but throwing his spear at them, he found they were not really alive.
He then pursued his object, entered the palace, and went into the sofa room; there he saw seven sofas or thrones, all of the same kind, and thought to himself that one of them must be especially intended to sit on, and that perhaps there was some deception about them. He then probed each with his spear, found out the substantial one, and sat down cross-legged upon it. The girl informed Múmal of the circumstances, and of his sagacity. She instantly came out, they were mutually pleased with each other, and the marriage knot was firmly tied. Mendra passed the night in rapturous enjoyment, and repaired early in the morning to the presence of Hamír and his friends, to whom he related his adventures. Hamír said, “As the woman has now become your own, you must be pleased to let me see her once.” Accordingly, at night, Mendra took Hamír with him, dressed as a shepherd. Hamír bore the Ráná some ill-will for having set aside the respect due to him; he therefore carried him off to his own city, and placed him under arrest. As Mendra had given his heart to Múmal, he, with the privity of his guards, every night secretly mounted a very swift she-dromedary, who could perform five ordinary day's journey and back again in a single night, and having seen his beloved, and enjoyed the charms of her company, returned to his prison.
It chanced that one night Múmal had gone to see her sister. Mendra returned, and suspecting something wrong, became displeased, and gave up going any more. The innocent Múmal was greatly distressed at Mendra's displeasure, and quitted her own residence and country. Having arrived at the city where Mendra dwelt, she built a palace adjoining his, and had windows placed opposite to his windows that she might sometimes see him. Mendra, shrouded in displeasure, closed his windows on that side, and Múmal then built a palace opposite another face of Mendra's, and so on, opposite to each of its four faces, but did not succeed in seeing her beloved. At last, when Múmal saw that Mendra had entirely averted the face of regard from her, she breathed a sigh of anguish, and, wounded by despair, gave up her life. Intelligence of this was conveyed to Mendra, and since a lover powerfully affects the heart of the beloved, and as the attraction of hearts in the world of unity tends to one and the same object, he instantly, on hearing these lamentable tidings, sighed and expired. This story is sung in Sindí verse at certain established places, and religious devotees are transported to raptures and heavenly visions of Divine love, on hearing it. A certain Mullá Mukím has written this story in Persian verse, and called it “Tarannum-i 'Ishk,” or the song of love.*