The Author's Preface

The Author's Preface

Boundless praise and thanks are due to that Creator who is the Maker of all that is and the Provider of the world and its peoples; and abundant blessings are fitting for that Messenger, God bless him and give him peace, who is the cause of the creation of the whole universe.

After this, the weakest of servants and humblest of men, Mazhar Ali Khan, whose pen name is Wila, tells in the idiom of the Urdu language this tale of Madhonal and Kam Kandla, which Moti Ram Kabishar told in the Braj tongue, at the request of the honoured Gilchrist Sahib, may his fortune last.

But the beginning of the tale is in praise of the city and in description of its king and people.

1

Seeing the upper storeys of its high, high houses, the sky and earth were turned upside down. Houses of every new fashion, all painted. On the lofty buildings the gleam of the gilded finials made a wondrous light. Men of learning and skill, of good deeds and good conduct, and good people lived in that town in ease and comfort.

It was famous as the city of Puhpavati, and its king, Gopi Chand, was unique in wisdom and generosity, of good deeds and auspicious nature, full of kindness, famous for gentleness and modesty, fine in looks and character, sought by all and beloved; his friends glad in his kindness and his enemies ruined by his wrath, and his renown everywhere.

In short, the king there ruled like Raja Indra, and in his palace there were women of every caste; but best and highest of all, pure of nature and adorned with beauty and ornament, rich in modesty and manners, learning and skill and every good quality, was his queen. All his people were prosperous; there was every means of pleasure and delight, and the country was all joy. [TN: the text of the description of the queen that follows is confused in the source; it is given here in substance] Proud of her looks and features, full of the ways of pleasure and delight, like the moon in her form, a rose bush in the garden of joy, a rose of the garden of youth, her brows a bow and every one of her lashes an arrow of coquetry; she was perfect in every rule, beautiful and delicate. And there was a Brahmin named Madho, handsome and of good character, who was the king's chief companion.

The king's kindness and favour to him were beyond measure, and he was very intelligent and wise and perfect in the science of music. Seeing his face, men and fairies went mad. In short, the tongue of the poet [TN: Moti Ram] and of the author fall short in his praise. Verses:

In remembrance of him, which heart is not lamenting like a bell?
Whose gazing eye here is not now bewildered like a mirror?

Whoever has seen that moon-browed one with a single glance,
His eyes are weeping, his breast is burning, he has no sense, no wits;

His musky curls the envy of the hyacinth, his rosy cheeks the shame of the rose;
I would liken his stature to the cypress, but it has not this grace;

Seeing his hennaed hand, the coral's claw drowned itself in the sea;
Beside the movements of his forearm, the rose branch has no life;

Seeing the languid eyes of that rose in the garden of the world, O friends,
A whole world is amazed; it is not only the narcissus that is amazed.

In short, seeing his beauty and loveliness and hearing the sound of his *bin*, the women of the whole city were so lost that they were not themselves at all; and for this reason all the people of the city, in distress, came one day to the king to complain and said, "Listen, Great King! King of kings! You have favoured your subjects in every way, and they are pleased with you in every way; but now, because of Madho's arts, the city cannot go on and is leaving."

Then the king said to them all, "What fault is there in Madho that you are angry with him and would make him leave the city?"

Then they all joined their hands and told the matter just as it was, and said, "Do justice, hear our complaint! Otherwise we shall not stay here. Have you not heard what the men of old have said, that if a brother, a nephew or a sister's son is handsome, women do not hold back even from him; and even if they keep themselves safe, when he comes into view they are carried away in spite of themselves?"

Hearing this the king thought that, good or bad, the custom is not to anger many for the sake of one. Then, to put it to the test, he had the petals of lotus flowers spread, had a number of women dressed in saris of fine, fine muslin and seated on them, and sent for the Brahmin, and, with lowered eyes, said, "Show before me all the arts that are in you."

Hearing this from the king, Madho thought that some enemy had slandered him; but a good man, without pride, even if someone gives him pain, does not speak harshly to anyone, as is the nature of sugar cane, which does not give up its goodness though it be cut joint from joint. In the same way the evil-natured do not give up their evil; for example, a snake, even of a good breed, will spit only its poison when the time comes. And to disobey a king's order, to fail to honour a Brahmin, and to make a woman sleep apart are killing without a weapon. Understanding this, Madho took his *bin* on his shoulder and, tuning all seven notes, began to sing.

Then, as soon as they saw this scene and state of his, every woman was in the same state, and the lotus petals stuck to each one's body [TN: i.e. from the heat of their passion]. When the king saw this, he was very astonished. Truly, music is the means of the happiness of the happy and the cure of the sorrows of the sorrowful. It is a bewitching spell for charming women, the foundation of joy, the increaser of every state of pleasure, and the agent of Kam Dev. That is why the pandits call it the fifth Veda.

Then the king, seeing his arts and his beauty, began to say in his heart, "An excess of beauty and accomplishment becomes the cause of calamity; so it was that beauty brought poison to Sita and pride came upon Ravan."

Then, saddened, he gave him a *bira* of three *pan* leaves [TN: a parting gift] and said, "Now take your leave and go from this city, for this kingdom and the clamour of the people have become the cause of our parting."

Thinking this over, Madho said, "When the mother gives poison and the king shows wrath, whose shelter is there?"

But since he was wise and intelligent, his temper was not grieved at this at all, and he left the city as one spits out *pan*.

2

In short, when Madho left the city, all the young women began to weep and wail. In short, what can be said? Such darkness fell on the world that it was as if the sun had hidden. Day became night; but he cared nothing. City by city and forest by forest he ate new grain and drank new water every day, and seeing the sights of the world, went on stage by stage.

By chance he reached the city of Kamavati, whose king was like the moon of the fourteenth night in beauty, just and knowing the right, a keeper of ancient customs, peerless in generosity, high-minded, dignified, a mountain of gravity, distinguished in liberality, a cherisher of his subjects and kind to the poor, of lofty nature and high resolve, tried in war, the Rustam of his time, putting Kam Dev to shame, pleasure-loving, the heart's ease of small and great; his noble name was Maharaj Kam Sen!

In his city there was a Venus-browed dancing girl, Kam Kandla, very beautiful, very clever and discerning: eyes like the narcissus, the glance of a deer, tresses like a chain, lashes like arrows, brows like the new moon, nose like the letter *alif*, cheeks more delicate than the rose, lips the envy of the fresh rose petal, teeth like a string of pearls and on them the line of *missi* [TN: dark powder for the teeth and lips], sweet of speech, walking like a partridge, moon-faced, sun-featured. Such a beauty that the sight of her drove sorrow from the heart; the envy of *houri* and fairy, all full of airs and graces. Everyone was enamoured of her and in love with her at heart. Couplet:

Such were her face and features, such her glance,
That sun and moon were ashamed at the sight.

In short, it happened one day that it was night. She was dancing before the king, finely dressed and adorned. As fate would have it, Madho too, following the sound of the *mridang* (drum), quickly and joyfully reached the king's gate and wanted to rush in boldly without ceremony; but the doorkeepers stopped him and would not let him go. Then a blow like Doomsday fell on his heart, and he was very restless and uneasy. He sat down thinking how he might get into the king's assembly and enjoy it there. However much he pleaded, it was no use. Then he said, "All in your king's assembly are lepers [TN: i.e. dullards]. They cannot tell good from bad."

Hearing this, one of the doorkeepers went to the king and submitted, "A Brahmin at the gate is crying out again and again that the king's whole assembly is leprous."

Then the king commanded, "Go and ask him why he calls the king's assembly leprous."

He told Madho as the king had commanded.

Then he sent this answer to His Majesty: "Of the drummers, four on each of three sides, one of those facing east has no thumb, so that his stroke does not fall fully on the beat; for this reason I took them for fools."

Then the doorkeeper told this to the king. When the king heard this, he looked at the hands of those drummers, and truly one man's thumb was made of wax.

The king was much delighted with the Brahmin's cleverness and had him called to him. He came and blessed the king: "Live long."

Then the king gave him a hundred thousand rupees and a robe of honour with jewels, seated him on a throne and showed him great favour.

It is the rule that all love a man of accomplishment, especially one of their own art; and a man who is skilled in some art loves with all his heart a master of that art. In short, agreement is sure between the two; indeed, if such a man comes to a strange city, they show him even more honour and respect.

And he cherishes men of learning and skill as parents cherish a son or daughter. If a man of accomplishment is even of low birth, he is given a place in the assembly. No one asks his caste; all hold him dear. The man without accomplishment is despised and wretched everywhere, and caught in sorrow and calamity. As the proverb goes: wherever the unskilled man goes, he suffers hardship; and the unlearned man is as if blind, indeed his life is in vain. If all the wealth and goods of a skilled man are lost, he does not care, for wherever he goes, everything will come into his hands; just as God Most High granted Madho better than before.