1 a vizier's daughter - Hazara.net

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A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR
“Don’t talk nonsense, Kopje (a Kabuli word for Derwan, doorkeeper),
Agha is not a child that I can tell him whether he is to take water or
sherbet when he comes in. don’t be so unreasonable, but hurry up that
man.”
“What is the name of wonder does it matter to you whether the vessels
are washed up, and whether Agha gets his drinking water clear or not?
If the water-carrier does not bring it in time, it’s he that will get the
stick, not you. Why should you care?”
This was a Kabul form of reasoning that Gul Begum could hardly
understand. She had been too short a time a slave to realise that most
slaves only work to avoid blows. Although his wife had nominally
managed her father’s house, it had been his daughter who had to a
great extent regulated the larger and more important matters connected
with his property, and more especially with regard to the animals, the
milk, butter, ghee, and wool, the spinning and the sending of the yarn
down to the weaver’s who turned it into cloth, both fine and coarse.
Gul Begum’s had been a wild but a full life, and by no means devoid of
keen interest. It seemed impossible to her to live without some
responsibility. The more immediate interests of her own family having
been wrested from her, she sought occupation for her active mind in
her new surroundings, and made them her business, but it was almost
impossible to meet the difficulties that cropped up at ever y corner. It
was easy enough to report the Kopje to her master for want of activit y
in the pursuit of the water-carrier, but it was a dangerous thing to make
an enem y of the only communication these imprisoned women had with
the outer world, so often Gul Begum would have to retire discomfited
and wait; but once when the water had been standing outside waiting
for some time, the door-keeper too lazy to bring it in, her indignation
overcame her p rudence.
“Look here, old wretch,” she said, “I hear from Selima that her
husband sa ys the water has been standing outside for an hour or more.
What do you mean by such laziness? I shall report you to Agha now
without fail. You understand me?” and she did.
The old man was ver y wroth, and determined she should suffer in a
thousand petty ways for her zeal, but Gul Begum was not easily cowed.
Now she had once put her foot down she did not mean to lift it up
again without a struggle, and if the Hazara slave had occasio nally to
suffer for her enthusiasm in her master’s cause, she found it paid her in
the long run. It was not much the master said, but a rupee cut off his
wages for his carelessness, and a threat that he would be dismissed
from his exceedingly easy post, brought him to his senses, and made
him dread the girl who, in his opinion, took so much, too much, upon
herself.