In the name of God, the Merciful and Compassionate. God is the first, the Last, the Manifest and the
Hidden. Praise be to the absolute existence. God’s essence manifests so that the seed of
Perfection, which lies latent within it, may become patent. My friend, the human spirit has entered this framework of the body so that which is potential may become actual, and may return, enriched with all experiences, to its original source.
I was born on 11 March 1615 in Ajmer. I was the eldest son of Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Begum. My father named me Dara Shukoh; Dara means wealth or star, it is interesting that second part of my name is spelled in two ways where “Shikoh,” stands for terror and “Shukoh,” means glory, splendour and grandeur in Persian.
I was Sufi natured and peace loving. I was a disciple of religious gurus like Baba Lal, companion of Saint Kabir, Mullah Shah Badakhshi; I was a friend of the naked mystic Sarmad Kashani of Jewish Armenian antecedents. I was also a friend of 7th Sikh guru Har Rai.
As part of Mughal norms, I studied Quran, Persian, history poetry and calligraphy. Compared to my father and brother Aurangzeb I have huge respect towards Hinduism. I have spent time with Hindu Pandits and Sadhus to know more about Hinduism. I spent time translating Upanishads in Persian language which was an attempt to reduce differences between Islam and Hinduism in Hindustan. I devoted much of the efforts towards finding a common mystical language between Islam and Hinduism. My spiritual incessant quest for monotheistic strands in Hindu philosophy led me to study the Upanishads, and with the help of some scholars of I managed to translate 50 Upanishads from Sanskrit to Persian.
My parents Shahjahan and Mumtaz Mahal had 4 sons: Dara Shukoh, Shuja, Muhiuddin who later became Aurangzeb, and Murad. In terms of religious outlook, I was the otherworldly Sufi, with my apparent indulgence of all faiths other than my own, Shuja had distinct leanings towards the Shia faith, Muhiyuddin the orthodox Sunni, and Murad with no religious affiliations whatsoever, content as long as the pleasures of the senses continued unabated.
One part of the palace comes alive with me reciting poetry and holy books of all religions. And the other parts, mainly the training ground, use to tremble with Aurangzeb’s Swords and Spears. I was an art lover, and my brother a seasoned warrior. Our extremely opposite ideologies kept us apart from each other, even when we both were brought up in the same atmosphere.
When my father suddenly got unwell, he formally announces me as his heir, granting me the title of Shahzada e Buland Iqbal. This infuriated my brothers, especially Muhiyuddin. But my brothers refrained from publicly expressing their displeasure. All of them wished to see themselves on the throne, but there was just one Peacock throne. My father’s affection towards me and coldness towards my brother Muhiyuddin grew with every passing day. My weakest link was that I seldom stepped out of the safe confines of the palace walls. My father kept me close to himself. Whereas Muhiyuddin was frequently sent by father to the battlefields. And he returned stronger every time.
In June 1658, Aurangzeb besieged father Shah Jahan in the Agra Fort forcing him to surrender unconditionally by cutting off the water supply. Jahanara the eldest sister came to Aurangzeb proposing a partition of the Empire, Punjab and adjoining territories for me; Shuja would get Bengal; Murad would get Gujarat; Muhiyuddin’s son Sultan Muhammad would get the Deccan and the rest of the empire would go to Aurangzeb. But Aurangzeb refused Jahanara’s proposition on the grounds that I was an infidel.
Muhiyuddin changes his name to Aurangzeb after the coronation. And also adopts the title of Alamgir. Jahanara joined her father in imprisonment at the Agra Fort, where she devoted herself to his care until his death.
The armies of both of us faced one another in the battle of Samugarh, near Agra. I managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory when I stepped down from my howdah to come to the aid of my beleaguered soldiers. When they saw the empty howdah, the soldiers assumed that I have been killed and surrendered. I escaped to Thatta in Sindh and then to Gujarat. I sought refuge with a local chieftain Malik Jiwan on the escape route to Afghanistan, but he betrayed me to Aurangzeb.
I was brought to Delhi, placed on a filthy elephant and paraded through the streets of the capital in chains, my fate was decided by the political threat I posed as a popular prince with the common people. Aurangzeb was not expecting such enormous public sympathy for me from the citizens of Delhi. Convocation of nobles and clergy, called by Aurangzeb in response to the perceived danger of insurrection in Delhi, declared me a threat to the public peace and an apostate from Islam. I was assassinated by four of Aurangzeb’s henchmen in front of my son on the night of 30 August 1659.
Aurangzeb could’ve pardoned me, but he wanted to set an example to every rebel, of what could happen to those who challenge him. Aurangzeb ordered his men to have my head brought up to him and he inspected it thoroughly to ensure that it was mine indeed. He then further mutilated the head with his sword three times. After which, he ordered the head to be put in a box and presented to his ailing father, Shah Jahan.
The face of water can never be veiled by ice…
though a bubble might be seen, unveiled by ice.
Truth is reality’s ocean, both worlds inside it:
like water in ice, and water… concealed by ice
The writer is a traveller and freelance writer based in UK. He has previously written for @the_nation @Dawn_com @DunyaNews @TheAsians He can be contacted on Twitter @SyedIHusain