A banker by profession, Salim Ansar has a passion for history and historic books. His personal library already boasts a treasure trove of over 7,000 rare and unique books.
Every week, we shall take a leaf from one such book and treat you to a little taste of history.
BOOK NAME: Victoria & Abdul
AUTHOR: Shrabani Basu
PUBLISHER: Rupa & Co – Dehli
DATE OF PUBLICATION: 2010
The following excerpt has been taken from Pages: 26 — 29
“The tall, handsome, Abdul Karim was just twenty four years old when he arrived in England from Agra to wait at tables during Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee. An assistant clerk at Agra Central Jail, he suddenly found himself a personal attendant to the Empress of India herself. Within a year, he was established as a powerful figures at court, becoming the queen’s teacher, or Munshi and instructing her in Urdu and Indian affairs. Devastated by the death of John Brown, her Scottish gillie, the queen had at last found his replacement. But her intense and controversial relationship with the Munshi led to a near-revolt in the royal household.
THE STORY OF QUEEN’S CLOSEST CONFIDANT – MUNSHI HAFIZ ABDUL KARIM
“The call of the muezzin to prayer floated over the city of Agra in the dawn, waking up the residents. The summer heat had made even the nights unbearable and Abdul Karim was almost relieved to leave his bed. His young bride was still asleep. It was the few tranquil minutes of the morning that he loved. He walked on the terrace surveying the roof-tops of the neighbouring houses. Not far away he could see the high walls of the Central Jail where he and his father worked.
“Tyler was a busy man. A doctor by profession, he was well loved for his warmth and geniality but known for a lack of tact and a hot temper. As an Anglo-Indian he was fluent in Hindustani and at ease with the natives. Tyler had just returned to Agra from London from the successful Colonial and Indian Exhibition of 1886 at the inauguration of which the second verse of the English national anthem had been uniquely sung in Sanskrit. He had been in charge of thirty-four inmates from Agra Jail who had attended the exhibition. The inmates had been schooled in carpet weaving as part of the jail rehabilitation programme, a tradition started by Emperor Akbar who brought the finest carpet weavers from Persia to India as teachers. Since the prisoners had all the time in the world, they could work at leisure to produce the exquisite Mughal carpets in silk, cotton and wool. The jail carpets were internationally famous and the tradition of training the inmates was carried on by the British administration. The carpet weavers from Agra Jail had impressed Queen Victoria with their skills. It was Karim, Tyler’s assistant clerk, who had helped him select the carpets to send to England for the exhibition. Tyler’s gift was appreciated. On 20th September 1886, the Queen wrote to Tyler expressing her delight and letting him know that she had worn them the previous evening.
“Tyler told Karim about the success of the exhibition and thanked him for his help. The jail superintendent now had another proposition for him. During his trip to London, the Queen had discussed the possibility of employing some Indian servants during the Jubilee. She was expecting a number of Indian princes for the celebration and felt she could do with someone to help her address the Indians presented to her. Tyler felt he had just the person for her. He then asked Karim if he would like to travel to England to be the Queen’s personal attendant and table hand during the Jubilee celebrations the following year. Weeks before the Golden Jubilee, preparations had begun in London for what was to be the biggest party of the year.
“The young Karim decided to surprise her. One day he came to the kitchen in Osborne House with the spice box that he had carried from India. He was going to cook a curry for the Queen. To the amazement of the cooks in the Royal kitchen, Karim was soon chopping, churning and grinding the masalas. The aroma of cloves, cinnamon, cardamom, cumin and nutmeg wafted through the room. Before long, Karim had prepared a fine Indian meal: chicken curry, daal and fragrant pilau. More was to follow, Karim was soon stirring up exotic biryanis and dum pukht, dishes from the Mughal kitchens. Kormas simmered in the cast-iron pots and ground almonds and cream laced the rich curried. For the first time in her life, Queen Victoria was introduced to the taste and smell of India. She described it as ‘excellent’ and ordered the curries to be made regularly.
“Barely a few weeks after their arrival, an excited Queen noted in her Journal: ‘Am learning a few words of Hindustani to speak to my servants. It is great interest to me for both the language and the people. I have naturally never come into real contact with before.’ Karim’s presence was transporting Queen Victoria into another world. The times spent with him learning Hindustani were the elderly Queen’s moments spent in India, in a different land and culture. The Queen liked the sound of Urdu, the rich language used in the Mughal Courts, a mix between Persian and the native Brajbhasa, and she would try to say the words after Karim. He would also tell her about India; about his own native city of Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, and the romance of seeing it on a full-moon night. He told the Queen the story of Shah Jahan and his Queen, Mumtaz Mahal, and how the news of her death during childbirth affected the emperor deeply. The Queen listened in rapt silence, understanding the anguish of Shah Jahan at losing his Queen. She learnt how Jahan had then built the Taj Mahal, taking twenty-two years to create the tomb that would be an everlasting monument to love. The Queen thought of the mausoleum she had built at Frogmore for her own beloved husband and how she would one day join him there. She shuddered when she heard how the ageing emperor was imprisoned in Agra Fort by his son Aurangzeb; its position on the bend in the river providing the most enchanting view of the Taj, and how the emperor spent his dying days there gazing at his beloved monument and mourning his Queen. Karim’s soft voice brought the tragic story to life.
“The Munshi’s fame had by now spread in Britain. His name figured regularly in the Court Circulars as he accompanied the Queen and attended royal dinners, levees and theatricals. The circulars would always mention him as ‘the Queen’s principal Indian secretary’, along with the rest of her suite. Muslims living in Britain wanted to see the man who walked in the charmed Royal circle and was so close to the Queen. It was a custom with Karim and the Indian attendants that after the holy month of Ramadan — throughout which they would observe their strict fast — they would go to the Shah Jahan mosque in Woking to pray at Id [Eid]. The custom of Id prayers at the Woking mosque was followed by Karim every year, and The Birmingham Daily Post observed in an article in May 1891 that ‘they are met on the occasion by Mohammedans from all parts of England, who come to see the Munshi and join him in prayer’. Meanwhile, the Munshi continued to get eulogistic press coverage, much to the wrath of the Household. The World newspaper carried a small profile of the Queen’s trusted Indian secretary.
“The Munshi Abdul Kareem, who now occupies his own snug abode in the grounds of Balmoral, has received extraordinarily rapid promotion since he came to Windsor in the capacity of personal attendant to Her Majesty in 1887 … So delighted is Her Majesty with her oriental teacher that when the Munshi went to India on leave, they were continued by almost daily correspondence.
“On 16 October, to the shock and horror of the Household, an article appeared in The Graphic headlined ‘The Queen’s Hindustani Tutor’. It carried a photograph of the Munshi and the Queen cozily working together in the cottage in Balmoral. The Munshi was looking directly at the camera giving the impression that he was the one in control. The photo carried the caption: ‘The Queen’s Life in the Highlands, Her Majesty receiving a lesson in Hindustani from her Munshi Hafiz Abdul Karim C.LE.’ One of the Queen’s dogs sat at her feet and the table was covered with a cloth showing distinctly Indian motifs. The Household was furious.
“The Queen died in Osborne on 22 January 1901. A rich Indian shawl with a border of golden sequins was spread near the foot of the wrought-iron staircase in Osborne House. On it was spread a beautiful cushion of violets, from which rose a huge cross made of moss. The Queen was making her last journey from her beloved Indian rooms in Osborne, with its ornate carvings, collection of memorabilia and paintings of her Indian subjects.
“The Munshi left for India at the end of the year, mainly with the aim of sorting out the purchase of his land in Agra. He had been negotiating the sale for over a year, having identified a large plot of land adjacent to what the Queen had gifted him in 1890. The land consisted of 147 acres, three roads and ten poles in the Mauza Sarai in the heart of Agra, close to the jail where his father worked.
“In Agra, the Munshi had fallen ill. He had aged quickly over the last few years and was often melancholy. All the material wealth that he had could not compensate for the precious moments he had spent with the Empress of India, the warmth of her presence as she visited his house and had tea with his wife, and the quiet lessons that they had enjoyed together. He spent his last days riding in his carriage to MacDonald Park, sitting by the statue of Queen Victoria and watching the sun set over the Taj Mahal.
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