Book review - Tears of the Begums, by Rana Safvi: Rivetting, heart-rending chronicle

Are conquerors and kings plunderers and mass murderers? Should a succeeding, weak generation face the wrath of the new colonials and the revolting natives, together? Is it a sin to be born of royal blood? The humiliation and disgrace, not to mention the thefts, robberies, beatings, murders and unspeakable atrocities that the large family of India’s last Mughal Emperor, BahadurShah II ‘Zafar’ (1837-1857) faced, after the first Indian War of Independence, of 1857, makes sad, extremely depressing reading. But then history is not always about victories and royal weddings. Tracing its ancestry to Timur, who invaded India in 1398, the dynasty conquered India under Babur, in 1526. And, except for a minor hiccup, when Ibrahim Lodi defeated Babur’s son Humayun, The Mughals ruled over India for more than 300 years.

Khwaja Hasan Nizami, born in 1879 into a Sufi family, documented events that unfolded during and after 1857, by collecting first-hand personal accounts from the survivors. These were compiled into 12 books, of which the book at hand was one. In its original Urdu, it was called Begumat Ke Aansoo, 1922, had 13 reprints by 1946, and was translated into several Indian languages. Nobody had attempted a complete English translation, though, till Rana Safvi picked it up. Besides translating it, she has made minor additions and pointed out a few inaccuracies, with due deference. Not taking too many liberties while translating, the writing, occasionally, comes across as cut and dried. But we must remember that this is a documentary, and not a feature film. Almost every few pages, some personality faints. Well, what do you expect? If you are a prince and asked to clean a toilet, or a princess ordered to perform household chores, or you have to beg outside a monument that your father built or you see your husband/wife/mother/father/son/daughter slaughtered before your own eyes? Yet, the language is never less than dignified.

Rana Safvi is a passionate believer in India's 'Ganga jamuni tehzeeb' (syncretic culture), which she documents through her writings, podcasts and videos. In 2011, she started the Twitter forum #shair which was responsible for popularising Urdu online. It's a unique platform which is still going strong, with over 20,000 members. She has published seven books so far, on culture, history and monuments of India. These are Tales from the Quran and Hadith, the Delhi Trilogy, Where Stones Speak, The Forgotten Cities of Delhi and Shahjahanabad - the Living City of Old Delhi. She has translated both the editions of Sir Syed Ahmad Khan 's seminal work on Delhi -Asar us Sanadid, Dastan e Ghadar and four accounts of 19th and 20th century Delhi from Urdu to English. She is also a regular contributor to various national newspapers and magazines. Her blog, ranasafvi.com, is a repository of cultural, literary and historical heritage.

In Tears of the Begums, the chapters are short, and the book runs into 210 pages only. It took me ages to finish it, not because it is difficult reading, but because I had other, pressing commitments, and I don’t believe in hurrying through a book. Every chapter is heart-rending, however Tears of the Begums deals with a little-known phase in Indian history, making it a prescribed text. It has an apt, attractive cover design and illustration by Reya Ahmed. Tears of the Begums has a list price of Rs. 499, while Amazon is selling it at Rs. 349.

Time now for a confession. Rana Safvi is married to my cousin Gazanfar. Safvi is a very rare surname, and comes from a dynasty in Iran, the Safavid dynasty, (1501–1736), whose establishment of Twelver Shiaism as the state religion of Iran, was a major factor in the emergence of a unified national consciousness among the various ethnic and linguistic elements of the country. Here in India, the most famous Safvi was Arjumand Bano, better known as Queen Mumtaz Mahal. But I have never seen or met Rana, and it has been decades since I met Gazanfar too. This is the first book of Rana that I have read, and it was sent to me by the publishers, hachette, not Rana.