289 XCVI. GHUBARĪ.*

He is Qāsim ‘Ali, son of Ḥaidar the grocer, and was notorious for his pride and groundless vanity. He used to call himself a Quraishī* until it became generally accepted that anybody who had no descent whatever to boast of claimed connection with the Quraish. Whenever he was ashamed of the arrival of his father in any social gathering and lost his temper his father used to say, ‘To spite you I will sit in the shop which I have in Agra, selling fruit and electuaries, and to everybody who comes to the shop, whether he questions me or not, I will say, ‘Let it be known that Qāsim ‘Ali is my son, begotten by me. You may kill him if you like.’”

Somebody asked Ḥaidar how many sons he had; he replied, “Eight, the particulars are as follows:—

“Two are mine, and two are my wife's, and two belong to
us both;
Two others there are which belong neither to my wife nor
to me.”*

Qāsim ‘Alī was in his youth very handsome, and used to sing at social gatherings, and was then for some time servant* to the Khalīfaḥ of the age (Akbar), became a man of some importance, and acquired the title of Khān,* and this case was an illustration of the remark made by a man when another said to him, “Have you heard that they have made so and so a Khan?” and he replied, “Well, the mannikin deserved it.”

His manner of forming his letters and his handwriting were like those of the master of the world.* His unformed hand and his ill-formed letters are like those of boys, but in spite of that hand and those letters he has a childish confidence in himself.*

During my twenty-one years' acquaintance with Ghubārī he has been constantly engaged in taking lessons in (what may be called) 290 the middle standard,* and he used to compel his teachers to make obeisance to him, and if they did not consent to do so he would not come for his lesson, and in the lessons received under these unfortunate conditions he never progressed beyond the elements of accidence.* His taste in poetry may be estimated from the following verses:—

“I love water, and the bath is my place,
The bath-house is the house which is appropriated to me.”

In imitation of the opening couplet which runs,

“I wish for one hair from the curled lock of my love.
That is to say, I am an idolator, and I wish for a sacred
thread.”

He wrote the following:—

“I wish to explain my grief to the dog of my love.
That is to say, I am grieved, and I wish to explain my
grief.”

The following verses are also by him:—

“From her eyes nothing but calamity reaches me.
Nobody has ever such calamity.”

A quatrain.

“Everybody who is afflicted by love
Becomes acquainted with toil and grief;
Everybody who has found his way into love's circle
Revolves around calamity like a pair of compasses.”

Ghubārī departed from this world, very unwillingly, in A.H. 1000 (A.D. 1591-92), and the chronogram found for his death consisted of the words, “Qāsim ‘Alī Khān the fool.”* Accord­ing to another account the year of his death was A.H. 1001 (A.D. 1592-93), and if this be accepted as correct the word jāhiḷ (‘igno­rant’) substituted for the word ablah (‘fool’) will give the correct 291 date.*

Since thou art ignorant grieve not if they call thee fool,
For these two expressions are* synonymous.