This article was originally pubished in Dawn, The Review, sometime in December 2000. Today, I cannot present it without a postcript, which has been added at the end, to highlight a few important points that need to be revised in my opinion. No changes (except spelling and typos) have been made in the text itself. […]
Dawn, The Review, November 23-29, 2000 ‘Listen to the flute. How it tells its story and complains of separation. It says, I have been crying ever since I was chopped off the reed…’ Thus opened the Mathnavi of Rumi, the favourite reading of Babur’s father Umar Sheikh besides the Holy Quran. Umar Shiekh used to
This article was published in Dawn, The Review, November 9-15, 2000. I stand corrected about my statement: ‘There is a less reliable tradition that in Damascus, Taimur held discourse with the famous historian and sociologist Ibn-i-Khaldun.’ In fact, it is the report of the meeting between Taimur and the poet Hafiz that has been questioned
Dawn, The Review, sometime in October 2000 In 1719 two powerful nobles entered the Red Fort of Delhi and made their way to the presence of King Farrukh Siyar without permission. They accused the king of plotting against them, and he found himself without the power to remind them that he was the king. A
Muhammad Shah “Rangeela” Read More »
Dawn, The Review, 5-11 October 2000 Half-Greek, half-Persian and all Egyptian, Cleopatra was a woman who asserted her authority in a man’s world on her own terms. Historians, mostly men, have rarely forgiven her for that, while the fascination she has held for generations is comparable to that of Alexander the Great. A descendant of
Cleopatra – The doomed Pharaoh Read More »
Dawn, The Review, sometime in September 2000 If ever there was a man who lived by the dictates of mind completely ignoring the voice of his heart, it was the Mughal emperor Shahjahan. Ironically, he is best remembered as the lover who built the famous Taj Mahal for his sweetheart. Shahjahan’s life is an interesting
Shahjahan: the rigid ruler Read More »
Dawn, The Review, sometime in 2000 He was raised like an orphan. Not that his parents were dead, but his father was in exile and the little infant was in the custody of its uncle. A merciless uncle he was, for he had wrung the infant, barely a few months old, from the hands of