In the Bazaar of Love: The Selected Poetry of Amir Khusrau (Penguin Hardback Classics) Read online

  In the Bazaar of Love

  The Selected Poetry of Amīr Khusrau

  Translated and introduced by

  PAUL E. LOSENSKY and SUNIL SHARMA

  PENGUIN BOOKS

  Contents

  Dedication

  Introduction

  Ghazals

  Translated by Paul E. Losensky

  Other Poems

  Translated by Sunil Sharma

  Miscellaneous Persian Poems

  Macaronic and Short Persian Poems

  Hindavi Poems

  Narrative Poems

  Bibliography

  Selected Glossary

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright Page

  man bi-dān nazram ki gar miram bi-sūyam bin-garī

  bīn kih chu man chand kas murda-st dar bāzār-i ‘ishq

  I vow to die

  that you might look my way.

  See how many have died like me

  in the bazaar of love.

  Introduction

  Amīr Khusrau (1253–1325)—often also written as Khusraw or Khusro—was one of the greatest poets of medieval India, writing in both Persian, the courtly language of Muslims of the sultanate period, and Hindavi, the vernacular language of the Delhi area. Known as Tūtī-yi Hind (Parrot of India) for his poetic eloquence and fluency in Persian, Amīr Khusrau has stood as a major cultural icon in the history of Indian civilization for almost seven hundred years. He is especially remembered as the founder of the ‘Ganga–Jamni’ Hindustani culture which is a synthesis of Muslim and Hindu elements. He helped to give a distinctive character to Indian Islamic cultural traditions through his contributions to the fields of Indian classical music, Islamic mysticism (Sufism), South Asian Sufi music (qawwālī), and Persian literature. Significantly, he also contributed to the development of Hindavi, in which both modern Hindi and Urdu have their roots. Positioned at the juncture of two cultures, Amīr Khusrau’s prodigious talents and prolific literary output make him one of the outstanding figures in Islamic, Indian, and indeed world cultural history.

  Amīr Khusrau’s legacy is far more widespread than people realize, from his vast corpus of Persian poetry that continues to be read in the modern Persian-speaking world (Iran, Afghanistan and Tajikistan) to this day, to the devotional qawwālīs that are performed and listened to in India, Pakistan, and beyond. He is rightly acknowledged as the best Indian poet to have written in Persian, and his influence on later Persian and Urdu literature was immense. In South Asia, he is revered for his contributions to music and mysticism but most people are familiar with only a small portion of his immense body of poetry and prose in Persian, or have no access to these works due to the language barrier. This has not been Amīr Khusrau’s fate alone. The Persianate world in which he lived, the entire area from Anatolia (now Turkey) to India, no longer exists as a cultural continuum. Though the ruling elite of these lands was mainly Turkish by ethnicity, the language of high culture was Persian, with Arabic serving as the sacred language of religion. But Persian ceased to be a language of learning in the Indian subcontinent during the British colonial period, and with the fragmentation of the Persianate world by the forces of modern nationalism, many poets who form part of the Indian Persian heritage have suffered a similar fate, including the nineteenth-century Ghālib, who wrote prodigiously in Persian as well as in Urdu. However, Amīr Khusrau’s Hindavi poetry and Persian poetry on Sufi themes are still part of a living and dynamic tradition.

  Amīr Khusrau’s personality is shrouded in mystery and attempts to piece together his biography can be frustrating. Modern biographers have difficulty resolving the apparent conflict between his professional life as a courtier and his spiritual life as a mystic. As a courtier Khusrau would have had to overlook many morally dubious actions and practices on the part of his patrons, for which he must have suffered some ethical conflict. Furthermore, while tradition credits Khusrau with a body of Hindavi poetry and the invention of several musical instruments, there is no written, documentary evidence to support this claim. Fortunately for us, there is quite a bit of biographical information in Amīr Khusrau’s own writings and in numerous poetic and Sufi biographical narratives from throughout the medieval period. Although the information is not always reliable and the resulting picture of the poet seems one-dimensional or larger than life, it is more than we have for most other pre-modern poets. Getting to the ‘real’ Amīr Khusrau challenges us to sort through an overwhelming number and variety of original sources, many unpublished, and to unravel the layers of cultural myth and legend that have shrouded his personality over the centuries.

  There are some remarkable parallels between Amīr Khusrau’s life and that of the renowned Sufi poet, Jalāluddīn Rūmī (d. 1273), who lived a generation or two before him. As a result of the Mongol incursion into Central Asia Rūmī fled westwards with his family and ended up in Konya, in what is now Turkey. Similarly, a couple of decades later, Khusrau’s family moved eastwards and ended up in India. Both poets had their origins in the region of Balkh in present-day Afghanistan. There are some salient differences in their biographies: Khusrau was born in India, to a Turkish father and Indian mother, and identified himself as an Indian; Rūmī, ethnically Iranian, was born near Balkh, far from Konya, the city where he was to settle. Also, Khusrau was deeply involved in court life, and most of his Persian writing, whether poetry or prose, is of a panegyric or historical nature, whereas Rūmī was not a court poet and his output is entirely mystical. Thus, it is appropriate that Khusrau is honoured with the title Amīr (Prince) and Rūmī with Maulānā (Our Master). Nevertheless, just as Rūmī had a deep attachment to his spiritual companion Shams, Khusrau was devoted to Nizāmuddīn Auliyā. In poem 35 in our collection, Khusrau uses Rūmī’s characteristic closing signature ‘Silence’, as he rues his failure to turn fully to a life of religious devotion. Most importantly, both were poets of Central Asian origin who deeply influenced the practice of Sufism in their respective parts of the world through their emphasis on the mystical performance of music and dance, and the poetic language in which it was expressed. Both were immersed in the local cultures and wrote macaronic poetry, mixing Persian with local languages (Persian, Turkish, Greek and Arabic in Rūmī’s case; Persian and Hindavi in Amīr Khusrau’s). Since both chose to write their poetry in Persian and authored a large body of ghazals on themes of love, there are many points of comparison from a literary point of view as well, although one must be sensitive to the different historical and social contexts in which they were active as poets.

  Amīr Khusrau’s Life

  Although Amīr Khusrau included much autobiographical information in his writings, the details of his origins are not clear. His father was Sayfuddīn Shamsī, whose Turkish name was Lāchīn, perhaps named after the obscure Lāchīn tribe from the region of Transoxiana in Central Asia, from where many people migrated to north India in the wake of the Mongol invasions. At least one scholar has suggested that Shamsī may have been of slave origins and named after his first master. In Delhi he served Sultan Iltutmish (r. 1211–36) in the police force of the city. It was not uncommon for Turkish slaves to attain high positions at the courts of rulers all over the Islamic world. Over time, as Khusrau’s prestige and fame as a mystic increased, the writers chronicling his life creatively embellished this account of the origins of his family.

  Sayfuddīn Shamsī married the daughter of ‘Imād al-Mulk, an Indian Muslim who was also in the service of the sultan, first as the keeper of the r
oyal falcon and later of the royal horse. Although the first- and second-generation Turkish immigrants were generally an elite group who looked down on recently converted Indian Muslims, it appears that intermarriage did take place between the two communities. Khusrau was proud of both sides of his lineage and his life and writings symbolize a synthesis of the two different cultures. Thus, Khusrau appropriately calls himself an ‘Indian Turk’ (in India the designation ‘Turk’ came to be synonymous with ‘Muslim’) and his Sufi master Nizāmuddīn Auliyā called him the ‘Turk of God’.

  Sayfuddīn Shamsī had three sons, and our poet Abū al-Hasan ‘Khusrau’ was born in 1253 in Delhi and was most certainly the second of the male offspring. His brother ‘Izzuddīn ‘Alī Shāh went on to become a scholar of Arabic and Persian, while the other brother, Husāmuddīn Qutlugh became a professional soldier like their father. The report of a later biographer that Amīr Khusrau’s birthplace was the village Patiyali (Etah district, UP), although now accepted as a fact, is not confirmed in the poet’s own writings. It is true that the poet did spend some years there while serving in the military, but Khusrau’s statements regarding his intense attachment to the capital city suggest that Delhi may indeed have been his birthplace.

  Although Khusrau’s father was illiterate he made sure that his sons received a proper education. He died in battle when the poet was eight, and as a result, the boys were raised by their maternal uncles and maternal grandfather, a powerful nobleman in service at court for over eighty years. Khusrau writes with great fondness about his grandfather who was the most influential figure in his life during his formative years. Even before he reached his teens Khusrau started to compose poetry in Persian. His talent did not go unnoticed by his elders and he passed a poetic test with flying colours. This was the time when the poet got his first pen-name (takhallus), ‘Sultani’, which he used in his earliest poems. On the question of language, Khusrau would have been educated in Arabic and Persian, perhaps spoken some Turki, and definitely have used Hindavi (the khadi boli of the Delhi region) as the language of daily life. However, Persian would be the language of choice for his literary works since it was the court language of the Delhi sultans.

  It was at his grandfather’s house that Amīr Khusrau met the young Sufi Nizāmuddīn Auliyā, who had just moved to Delhi for his education, and who would later become one of the most renowned spiritual men connected to the city and the most important person in the poet’s life. Khusrau’s other closest intimate was the court poet and fellow Sufi Hasan Sijzī (d. 1337), whose life revolved around the same institutions and personalities as Khusrau’s. Though Hasan and Khusrau were both honoured with the title of Amīr for their prowess in the art of poetry, Hasan is today better known for his work Favā’id al-fu’ād (Morals of the Heart), in which he recorded the discourses of Nizāmuddin Auliyā.

  Khusrau’s career as a professional poet began in earnest when he was twenty, also the time when his grandfather passed away at the age of one hundred and thirteen. Under the mentorship of senior poets at the sultan’s court, Khusrau began composing verses in praise of his patrons. For the next fifty years, until his death in 1325, Khusrau was a courtier and poet, initially in the service of princes and nobles, then permanently at the court of the sultan of Delhi. Serving five rulers and witnessing the rule of several more, he managed to survive the political intrigues of the various factions and individuals at work in Delhi. This in-fighting probably propelled him further into Sufism. Khusrau lived simultaneously in the normally incompatible worlds of the mystic and the courtier. A ruler would often be arbitrary in showing favour to poets and Sufis of the city, and judging by the lives of many medieval Persian poets, the perils of being a panegyrist at court were great.

  In medieval Islamic culture, praise poetry was one of the principal means for a ruler to establish and propagate his cultural and political legitimacy. The professional court poet could be richly rewarded for his services, but he was often regarded as a mercenary sycophant because he shifted allegiances without qualms and offered his praises to the highest bidder. Khusrau admits that praising patrons is a tiresome task even if it results in fine poetry. He uses the metaphor of Jesus’s breath, which is supposed to bestow life on the dead: just as it rejuvenates a lamp’s flame, so good poetry erases the negative aspects of insincere praise. Often Khusrau and poets like him state that they utter no lies but only report the truth. Court poets, however, were not objective recorders of the character and deeds of their patrons; rather, they presented an idealized image of the ruler. They were professionals whose livelihood depended on their mastery of current literary trends and the existence of generous patrons, and they competed with a whole class of wandering poets who were continuously seeking better prospects for themselves. Once a poet became successful and a favourite at court, he could not easily disassociate himself from his patron. The court poet played many roles: he was an entertainer, but also a boon companion (nadīm) and friend to the ruler; he was a propagandist, but also an advisor who could use his poetry as a means of instructing his patron in proper conduct.

  Amīr Khusrau’s first patron was Kishlū Khān (also known as Malik Chhajjū), a nobleman and nephew of Sultan Balban (r. 1266–87). Based in Sunnam, west of Delhi, Malik Chhajjū was celebrated as a generous patron of poets. However, at the end of two years’ service, Amīr Khusrau fell out of Malik Chhajjū’s favour for accepting a gift from his cousin, the emperor’s son Bughrā Khān, who was also a great admirer of Khusrau’s poems. As a result, Khusrau took up service with his new patron and settled in Samana (Punjab), but he stayed there only briefly before moving on to Lakhnauti (Bengal) where Bughrā Khān was sent to quell a rebellion. Bughrā Khān was a connoisseur of music and the arts, but the poet soon left his service and returned to Delhi because he missed the city and his family. He often spoke candidly of his deep attachment to the city, which he considered his home. In one of his poems, written when he was absent from Delhi, he says:

  My home was the Dome of Islam.

  It was the qibla for kings of the seven climes.

  Delhi is the twin of pure paradise,

  a prototype of the heavenly throne on an earthly scroll.

  Such statements link his name to the city and helped in building the reputation of the sultanate capital as a major centre of Persian poetry in the Islamic world. Khusrau is often given the added appellation of Dihlavī or Dehlvī (of Delhi).

  In 1280, Amīr Khusrau attracted the attention and became the nadīm of the sultan’s son, the young prince Khān Malik Sultān Muhammad, who was by all accounts a warm, generous and charming individual. Prince Muhammad was fond of poetry and gathered the best poets around him. His court at Multan was a significant cultural centre that rivalled even Delhi for a time. Multan was home to the Suhravardi Sufi order and Khusrau must have had contacts with the Sufis based there. In all likelihood, he witnessed and participated in performances of devotional singing that would later develop into the qawwālī. The memory of the famous Persian mystical poet Fakhruddīn ‘Irāqī (d. 1289)—who had lived in Multan for twenty-five years before returning to the western Islamic lands—must have been fresh in the community, and Amīr Khusrau would have heard ‘Irāqī’s ghazals which were also popular with the Chishti Sufis. Khusrau’s friend Hasan had also accompanied him to Multan in the service of Prince Muhammad. According to one tradition, Muhammad twice invited the famous poet of Iran, Sa‘dī of Shiraz (d. 1292), a literary giant and model for all poets writing in Persian at this time, to come and settle in Multan where the prince was going to name an institution of learning after him. It is even claimed that Sa’dī did visit India to meet Amīr Khusrau but these accounts are not confirmed by any reliable source of the period.

  Amīr Khusrau’s sojourn in Multan lasted five years and came to an abrupt end in 1285 when Timur Khān Tātār led a Mongol foray into the Punjab. In the ensuing battle, Prince Muhammad was killed and Khusrau taken captive. The poet spent a short time as prisoner, a horrifying exper
ience that he later described in graphic detail. He and Hasan both wrote moving elegies on the death of their beloved patron, and when they returned home, all of Delhi was in mourning for the prince who was henceforth called the Martyr Prince (Sultān-i shahīd). The powerful elegy by Amīr Khusrau in eleven stanzas reveals the depth of his grief:

  People shed so many tears in all directions

  that five other rivers have appeared in Multan.

  I wanted to speak of the fire in my heart

  but a hundred fiery tongues flared up in my mouth.

  The death of the prince changed the very geography of the poet’s world in ways that exceeded all expression. Written in the typical poetic idiom of the marsīya (elegy), the poem is a poignant and sincere elegy for the virtuous young patron, and it was said that when the sultan in Delhi heard the poem he was moved to tears. For his part, Hasan wrote his elegy in prose, in order not to compete or be compared with his friend.

  After returning to Delhi, Amīr Khusrau kept a low profile, spending time with his family. Scattered references in Khusrau’s works testify to his deep and sincere attachment to his family. He mentions his maternal grandfather in fond terms as an influential figure in his early years. His mother, to whom he was especially close, is also mentioned a few times and his elegy on her death in 1299—which occurred the same year that he lost one of his two brothers—speaks of his sense of personal loss. As for other family members, there is no mention of his wife anywhere in his works but there are references to his children. He addresses his daughter Mastūra at the end of his work Matla’ al-anvār, while in his poem Hasht bihisht, he gives advice to another daughter Afīfa. He gives advice to his son Khizr in Majnūn Lailā. Two sons, Muhammad and Hājjī, died during the poet’s lifetime while another, Malik Ahmad, was known to be active as a court poet under Sultan Fīrūzshāh Tughlaq (r. 1351–75).