By writing his epic poem Bibi Mubarika and Babur, Sahibzada Riaz Noor has not only done a favour to literature but also history. He has given us not only a poem rich in imagery, colour, and emotion but a history lesson full of insights. (For the sake of transparency, I must state that I wrote the Foreword and have leaned on it for this article).
The poem is in the Homeric vein—its characters heroic, its scope vast and the story consequential. The history throws light on a little-known aspect of the life of one of the great figures of world history, Babur or, as some prefer, Babar, the founder of the Mughal empire, arguably India’s greatest and most glorious empire. In the process, the poet has given us in Bibi Mubarika, Babur’s empress, a marvellous icon and role model, a woman of grit and honour, an empress with compassion and courage. The epic is called Bibi Mubarika and Babur. The poet deliberately put her name first in the title to restore her place in history and honour her.
Sahibzada Riaz Noor, together with his friend, mentor, and colleague, Ejaz Rahim, who wrote the excellent Prologue, have kick-started an entire poetic tradition in a land where English—inherited at birth—now languishes neglected. These two poets have picked up the dying language and not only resuscitated it but given it some of its most brilliant expressions as well. As both write in epic mode, there are universal references to, for example, Helen of Troy in Europe and Queen Cleopatra in Africa.
Perhaps, there is no one better qualified to know an individual than a spouse
We hear the voice of Bibi Mubarika early in the poem as she establishes her narrative style and identity:
This is my history
Bibi Mubarika Yusafzai
Gulbadan’s Afghan Aghachi
In palace with title Bega Begi
Bibi as such did Humayun
In affable and solemn
Honoured deference
Refer to me or my address
As a rose creeper my tale
With the odyssey of Babur
Is intertwined that prince
Among princes proper
The powers of descriptions, imagery and empathy are demonstrated by the poet in describing the enchanted Pukhtun lands where Mubaraka grew up in her voice:
I opened my eye and grew up
In dales of pines and spruces
Cool waters feeding orchards
Of peaches plums and apricots
Grew up with friends fair
In nature’s pristine purity
Flowers and meadows green
Beatific youth was company mine
Bred in piety and learning
Graces of honour and arts
Though I was no queen yet
But best could I all hearts
My life of playful virtue
By a quake was struck suddenly
To my core deep me it shook
To betrothed to a Padishah Turk
Perhaps, there is no one better qualified to know an individual than a spouse. So many iconic male figures turn out to be loathed and hated by their spouses because of their behaviour. The test for Babur was to view him through the eyes of his wife Bibi Mubarika. She came from the Yusufzai Pathan tribe who had fought Babar and she played a role in reconciling the two. On his death, he was temporarily entered in Agra but Bibi Mubaraka had promised her husband that she would take him to Kabul to bury him there. It was an immense task fraught with problems of logistics of transport etc. In the background the newly founded Mughal Empire was wobbly and Babur’s son Humayun would lose the empire for a while, only regaining it after he made various compromises to win the support of the Persian monarch. With the empire itself facing uncertainty, the burial wish of Babur was of little priority. People it seems had simply forgotten Babur’s last wish.
This was the moment that Bibi Mubarika stepped out from behind the segregated pavilion of the women’s quarters and claimed her position in history. She was determined to honour her husband’s last wish. Not only would she honour her husband but she would accompany him on his last journey. As a cursory glance at a map will tell you, the journey from Agra to Kabul is fraught with dangers and challenges. There are mighty rivers to cross, dangerous passes to negotiate and some of the fiercest tribes along the route ready to raid and loot the traveller. It would take a person of great courage to even contemplate such a journey but then Bibi Mubarika was not only a Pathan but a Yousufzai Pathan, the tribe considered to be the quintessential Pathan tribe. And as we know at the heart of Pathan culture is Pukhtunwali or the way of the Pathans. And at the heart of Pukhtunwali is the notion of honour. In the noble act, Bibi Mubaraka was embodying Pukhtunwali and thus honouring her people. Because the spotlight has been so firmly fixed on Babur and his fascinating life, the heroic warrior, the autobiographer, the builder of an empire, Bibi Mubaraka is little known in history.
The epic is sprinkled with graphic descriptions of several key moments in Babur’s story. Despite his various military adventures and sometimes precarious position, Babur was consistently gracious and generous. Here is the time Babur wins the great battle at Panipat against Ibrahim Lodhi and in victory shows his characteristic chivalry:
A fallen fighter to venerate
We marched to the spot
Where Sultan Ibrahim Lodhi’s
Body had dropped
Lifting his head I remarked
‘Honour to your courage’
A brocade laid where he lay
A solemn burial we gave
Babur, sitting with his kin in the garden of Zarafshan after vanquishing all the possible threats from the west and east of Agra, stated in a moment of candour that:
I am weary of ruling,
To the Zarafshan garden,
I wish to retire,
With only an attendant one
The poet is careful while extolling Babur’s military genius to also underline his humanity to the defeated.
So orders to my troops
Were sent no hurt be brought
Neither to the herds nor flocks
Nor even to their cotton stalks
The writer is the Ibn Khaldun Chair of Islamic Studies, School of International Service, American University, Washington, DC, and author of The Flying Man: The Philosophers of the Golden Age of Islam