A Glimpse of the Delhi Durbar

1. A Glimpse of the Delhi Durbar

With the fever of longing in my head,
I too went off and saw Delhi.

Whatever I saw, I saw was fine;
how can I tell you all I saw?

Verse is my clear wine;
this pastime is enough for the heart.

I ask my friends' pardon;
now enjoy the rhymes.

I saw the broad banks of the Jamna-ji,
I saw the fine, clean *ghats* (bathing steps).

I saw the *Lat* (the Viceroy), the highest of all,
I saw His Highness the Duke of Connaught.

I saw battalions and cavalry regiments,
I saw white men, I saw black men.

I saw bayonets and lances,
I saw the men who play in the band.

I saw a forest of tents,
and in that forest I saw a carnival.

I saw Burma and Warangal,
I saw a wrestling-match of seekers after honours.

Roads ran out from every camp,
water ran out of every pump,

waves of light ran out of every lamp,
speed ran out of every jump.[1]

On some faces I saw manliness,
on some faces I saw pallor.

I saw a good deal of cold,
and I saw the state it put the heart in.

I saw oranges in a basket,
I saw a *sarangi* (bowed lute) at a gathering,

I saw the colourless and the many-coloured,
I saw the motley colours of the world.

I saw many a fine fellow uneasy,
I saw him take a jolt in the crowd;

though I saw his face hang long,
I saw his heart stuck fast to the Durbar.

I saw massive, heavy elephants,
their pace slow, halting, step by step,

their howdah-cloths of gold, a world of light,
for miles that glitter, glitter, glitter.

The side of the Jama Masjid was full,
lights were shining on every side.

No one was listening to anyone;
all, every one of them, were greedy for a sight.

I saw red cloth cut up on the road,
I saw even breath stifled in the crowd,

I saw the fireworks let off,
I saw the wealth of pleasure plundered.

I saw a four-lakh dais,
I saw it well and truly tasted and tested;

I saw bounty laid out on every side,
I saw the flies on the honey and the milk.

One man's portion was manna and quails,
one man's portion a little *halwa* (sweetmeat),

one man's portion the crowd and the riot,
my portion: a sight from far away.

I saw the height of the British Raj,
I saw the reflection of throne and crown,

I saw the colour of the present age,
I saw the face of Curzon *Maharaj* (great king).

They came, leaping the seven seas;
under them are scores of ports;

wisdom and learning are within them;
each in his place an Alexander.

The height of fortune is their partner,
theirs the sevenfold-tiered sky;

theirs the gathering, theirs the cupbearer;
the eyes are mine, the rest is theirs.

We wish them well, indeed we do;
and not only we: all of us, every one, are like that.

The ways of their Raj are excellent,
every provision of pleasure and delight.

The splendour of the Exhibition was unique,
everything excellent, everything first-class;

measured and weighed by Euclid himself;
the bare cost, gold by the maund.

A great celebration has been held this year,
a ball was held in the royal Fort,

every hall was lit up,
the tale of the past became the present.

It is talked of in every lane and street
that Lady Curzon danced at the ball;

the bird of everyone's senses had lost its wings,
every woman watched with envy.

She shone, suddenly arriving in the hall;
her dress was golden and dazzling.

Up to the height of the sky they were lost in her;
Venus herself in heaven was her customer.

Though Venus is the dancer of high heaven,
where had she this fine finish of feature?

It was a glimpse of Indra's court;
the revels lasted until dawn.

This composition comes of a quick mind;
believe it, or do not believe it;

as for us, we heard these tales;
let him who saw it be the judge.

Notes

[1] Akbar's gloss on the English word "jump": jast (a leap).