1 a vizier's daughter - Hazara.net

More documents

Recommendations

Info

144 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR During her illness, the services which, when she had been well, it had been her special privileges as well as duty, according to Eastern notions, to perform, seemed somehow to fall naturally upon Gul Begum. Who else, indeed, was there to perform them? The children’s nurse (there were two other tiny children besides the little stranger) was more than taken up with her mistress and her little charges. The lad y’s usual attendant was also in hourly requisitio n, either to take the new bab y or to massage and soothe her suffering mistress. Little delicacies and nourishing dishes were co nstantly required to tempt the failing appetite, to strengthen the poor, failing patient, so even the cook’s hands were more than full, according to a Kabul servant’s way of thinking. Thus all the ordinar y household work fell on the slaves, who did ever ything in an uncomplaining, listless, unmethodical wa y, as untrained servants without a mistress are sure to do, and the master, for whom the y were not as a rule allowed to do anything, never entered their minds. The cook cooked his food – of course she had alwa ys done so – but she had now no time to bake the bread, her services were not constantly required for other things, so the bread has to be fetched from the bazaar. The bazaar bread was heavy, and, moreover, the flour was not pure. The Chief Secretar y did not complain, but he did not eat it. So Gul Begum baked the bread. She did it well, but her master made no comment. The bread the day before had been uneatable, to -day it was good – excellent. When he had finished his meat and vegetables, he sent for some sour curd. He only did this when the bread was fresh and light, and the slave who had made it, and who waited on him as he ate, knew this and felt rewarded. At home her father would have prayed her, or if much preoccupied, would at least have patted her on the head. Here the master never even asked who had made it: some slave, that was all she was now to the master of the house. What had she to do with recognitio n? If things were bad or put of order the slaves were to blame. When things were good, the y were as the y ought to be. The slaves had done their duty, that was all. She was one of many, and had no separate identit y from the others. The Chief Secretary was a most religious man according to the ordinarily accepted standard, but with his religion there was combined a good deal of superstition, which deprived him of much sleep and much time that other men spent in leisure. He never omitted to say his prayers five times a day – that much was the duty of ever y true believer. To do less than that was to deprive the Almight y of His rights, to prove the creature a defaulter in the service of the Creator. But the Chief Secretary did more than that. Besides his compulsory prayers, he generally, and always in times of trouble, rose at twelve o’clock at night to sa y an optional prayer – a prayer that was not a positive duty, but the repetition of which, so he believed, brought certain special blessings and favours. It often brought about the fulfilment of an earthly desire, or if that were denied, it at least
145 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR produced a special resignation to the will of Providence, whatever that will might be. So now that his wife was ill, his household all upset, this midnight prayer was, as it were, almost a necessity to him. Leaven’s gates must besieged if necessary, that the Ameer’s Chief Secretar y might be spared the inconvenience of a disorderly household, the disaster of the death of the chief conducer to his creature comforts. “I wish you would get strong,” he had said plaintively to his wife one morning. “It is ver y hard on me, this prolonged illness of yours, especially hard in this, that there is no one I can trust to wake me for my midnight prayers. Last night I never woke till four. I did not return from Durbar till after ten o’clock, and so I was tired, I suppose, and overslept myself. This has depressed me very much. You know I alwa ys feel happier and more satisfied when I have said them.” It did not strike upon this gentle lad y’s ear that selfish sentence, “It is very hard on me,” so it could not ring there to produce tears and miser y. She knew it was selfish in sound chiefly. An Englishman would have said, “Do try, love, and get better. I cannot bear to see you like this. I miss you so.” The Eastern put it more baldly; he did not think it necessar y to conceal where the trouble la y, nor did she expect or wish it. She was missed, her services were wanted: The sick woman flushed. It was a flush of pleasure. “I shall have ease soon,” she said. And so she had, but not here, on this earth. That night she had a curious dream. She told her husband of its next morning. “I dreamt that I la y dead,” she said, “and that you sat by disconsolate, and knew not what to do, nor even where to bury me. You had never even dreamt that I was going to leave you. And as you sat thus and wept, one came and whispered in your ear, ‘Bring her beside me, just behind my tomb. A little to the left there is just one space left. Take her and bury her there, and there shall her body rest till the great day, the final d ay, when God shall judge the earth.’ And looking up, you saw the figure of the saint who is buried on the hill, just below Sultan Mohamed’s monument, but he turned and went away before you had time to address him, and I awoke.” “Did you see the face of the <strong>Hazara</strong>ti Sahib?” the Chief Secretary asked uneasily. “Yes, that I did quite plainly. And, husband, just as I saw, so I believe it will come to pass, and that you will bury me there on the hillside, by the road along which you must pass ever y time you go to meet a friend from India, ever y time that you go home to see your place. And I shall like that, my dear one, for thus will my memory be kept green, and
Page 1 and 2:
1 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER - A TALE OF
Page 3 and 4:
Page 5 and 6:
Page 7 and 8:
Page 9 and 10:
Page 11 and 12:
11 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER - A TALE O
Page 13 and 14:
Page 15 and 16:
Page 17 and 18:
Page 19 and 20:
Page 21 and 22:
Page 23 and 24:
Page 25 and 26:
Page 27 and 28:
Page 29 and 30:
Page 31 and 32:
Page 33 and 34:
Page 35 and 36:
Page 37 and 38:
Page 39 and 40:
Page 41 and 42:
Page 43 and 44:
Page 45 and 46:
Page 47 and 48:
Page 49 and 50:
Page 51 and 52:
Page 53 and 54:
Page 55 and 56:
Page 57 and 58:
Page 59 and 60:
Page 61 and 62:
Page 63 and 64:
Page 65 and 66:
Page 67 and 68:
Page 69 and 70:
Page 71 and 72:
Page 73 and 74:
Page 75 and 76:
Page 77 and 78:
Page 79 and 80:
Page 81 and 82:
Page 83 and 84:
Page 85 and 86:
Page 87 and 88:
Page 89 and 90:
Page 91 and 92:
Page 93 and 94: 93 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER - A TALE O
Page 101 and 102: 101 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER - A TALE
Page 143: 143 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER - A TALE
Page 195 and 196:
195 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER - A TALE
Page 197 and 198:
Page 199 and 200:
Page 201 and 202:
Page 203 and 204:
Page 205 and 206:
Page 207 and 208:
Page 209 and 210:
Page 211 and 212:
Page 213 and 214:
Page 215 and 216:
Page 217 and 218:
show all

1 a vizier's daughter - Hazara.net

Create successful ePaper yourself

Delete template?

Save as template?