Thursday, July 31, 2008

Veil

Shehanshahon ke shenhanshah, the emperor of emperors, Jalaluddin Muhammad Akbar looks down at the blisters on his feet. He has walked miles on stone and dust, in the heat of the midday sun, like a mere commoner, to this little town called Sikri, just to seek the blessing of Shaikh Salim Chisti, the revered saint.

What his heart aches for is an heir to his throne; he is till now, childless. The Sufi saint did indeed bless him, predicting the birth of not one, not two but three sons, three possible heirs to the glory of the great Mughals.

What Akbar, childless and almost broken, doesn’t know is that the son he has asked for, the son who’ll ultimately be born, proving right Chisti’s prophecy, the son whom he’ll name Salim in honour of the great saint, will grow to be an obnoxiously rebellious offspring, and when the time came, will plot his own father’s overthrow, breaking his heart in two. Forever.

Today, Akbar knows nothing of that. For he is lost in the moment, in the promise that these blisters will not be for nothing. He is hopeful, believing, content.

9 comments:

Saransh said...

Hmmm ...
Finally Akbar has realized that "Ignorance is 'Bliss'ters ". That's why he is content. :P .sorry ganda tha.

Piper said...

Bahut ZYADA ganda tha!

Marvin said...

Baby I am a man, I was born to hate.

Aisa main nahin kehta. Aisa Keane ne kaha hai.

Piper said...

Pray tell me, my dear Siddhartha, how the above falls into context?

Anonymous said...

Salim. Plot. Overthrow. Akbar. Blisters. Even. Srange. Why?

Piper said...

Ssshhhh...

Random Guy said...

tumse aisi ummeed na thi...

Chandni said...

The stared at the header for a long long time and decided I liked it a lot. Nice to be back and find unread posts :)

Piper said...

alien:

There might be more like this in the coming time. Get used to it.

chandni:

Ah. Finally a feminine presence on my blog. I'm almost ecstatic. Be regular now ;)