An enigmatic emperor

No one in their dreams would have thought of messing with the Khān. But perhaps, Shaybāni wasn’t just ‘anyone’.

In the winter of ad 1501, after having taken Samarkand and showing Babur out, Shaybāni was looking to take more. The Khujand River was frozen and was not very rideable. But Shaybāni Khān did cross the river and undertook a massive plunder near Shahrukhiya and Bish-kint.

The news of Shaybāni’s new deed reached Babur. He was already filled with vengeance and fire, awaiting an opportunity to knock down Shaybāni. Forgetting the smallness of his own numbers, Babur along with his men went for the villages below Khujand, opposite Hasht-yak. The weather was bitterly cold, and the wind was raging violently the whole time piercing the skin wherever exposed. Babur heard the news of a few deaths too because of the cold in that region.

Babur approached an irrigation channel with a desire to perform his ablution. Although the edges were completely frozen and were devoid of any flow, the mid-portion was not frozen because of the swift current. Babur dipped in sixteen times and was left badly bitten by the cold.

The next day, Babur and his men crossed the river from opposite Khaslar and went on through the dark to reach Bish-kint. But till then Shaybāni Khān had already gone away after having plundered the neighbourhood of Shahrukhiya.

Nuyan Kukuldash Dies

In that period, Bīsh-kīnt was held by Mullā Ḥaidar’s son, ‘Abdu’ l-minān. Once upon a time, his younger son, Mūmin had visited Babur in Samarkand and had been showered with all kindness. Babur had observed him to be a worthless and dissipated person. Mūmin was a sodomite* too. There had been some sort of quarrel between Nuyān Kūkūldāsh and him which lasted till the end.

On the other hand, when Babur heard of Aūzbegs’ retiring, he sent a man to Khān and marched from Bīsh-kīnt with the purpose to spend a couple of days amongst the villages in the Blacksmith’sdale. Mullā Ḥaidar’s son, Mūmin invited Nuyān Kūkūldāsh, Aḥmad-i-Qāsim, and some others in the name of returning them the hospitality received in Samarkand. Hence when Babur left for Bīsh-kīnt, they chose to stay back. Mūmin hosted this treat on the edge of a canyon.

The next day, the news about Nuyān reached Babur while he was stationed in Sām-sīrak, a village in the blacksmith’s-dale. He had fallen into the ravine in an inebriated state and had succumbed to his injuries. Babur sent a search party headed by his own mother’s brother, Haq-nazar, to find the body from where he had fallen. His body was found at the bottom of the ravine and was buried with the rituals in the earth in Bīsh-kīnt. Many, including Babur, suspected that it was indeed Mūmin, who, blinded by petty rancour, committed the crime against Nuyān. But the truth never came out.

Babur was broken by this incident. He had not felt such grief, except after the unfortunate death of his father. He kept weeping perpetually for ten days.

Now, summer had begun to approach; and with this pleasing moment came a piece of pale news that Shaybāni Khān was coming to Aūrā-tīpā. Thereby without wasting any time, Babur along with his men crossed the Āb-burdan pass into the Macha hill country. Ābburdan was the last village of Macha. Just below it, a spring sent its water down to the river, Zarafshan. A tomb existed at the springhead.

At the edge of the springhead, Babur inscribed three couplets on a rock after having got it shaped:

I have heard that Jamshīd,

the magnificent,

Inscribed on a rock at a fountain-head

‘Many men like us have taken a breath at this fountain,

And have passed away in the

twinkling of an eye;

We took the world by courage

and might,

But we took it not with us

to the tomb.

It was a regular tradition to inscribe verses on the rocks in the country of hills. While they were in Macha, an acclaimed poet Mullā Hijrī came from Hisār and waited on Babur. During this period, Babur had composed the following opening lines:

Let your portrait flatter you never so much, than it you are more;

Men call you their Life than Life, without a doubt, you are more.

Meanwhile, Shaybāni Khān retired after having plundered enough in Aūrā-tīpā. While he was up there, Babur disregarded the lack of numbers of men and their scarce arms supply. They left their impedimenta in Macha and crossed the Āb-burdan pass rushing to Dikh-kat. The intention was very clear that they wanted to gather close at hand and had no desire to miss any chance. However, nothing could progress as they desired. Shaybāni had retired straightway and Babur along with his men had nothing more to do than to return to Macha helplessly.

Babur had turned highly dismayed in that period. He has written in the Baburnama, ‘It passed through my mind that to wander from mountain to mountain, homeless and houseless, without country or abiding-place, had nothing to recommend it.’

And then Babur realized that there was no other way than going to the great Khān himself. ‘Go you right off to the Khān.’ Words echoed in his mind and conveyed the same to Qāsim Beg. But he wasn’t so impressed and happy with this proposition. Perhaps he was uncomfortable because once he had killed the Moghūls at Qarābūlāq, setting an absolute example of terror, guilt had trapped him big time. Babur tried his best, but he couldn’t convince him. Finally after losing each argument, yet not changing his opinion, Babur along with a few followers crossed the Āb-burdan pass to get Khān’s audience in Tashkent. On the other hand, Qāsim Beg moved forward to Hisār with all his brothers and following.

Babur Arrives to See Khan

A year ago, Tambal had drawn his men out and gone into the blacksmith’s-dale. It was then that many men at the top of his army conspired to assassinate him. A few such men were Muhammad Dūghlāt (Hisārī), his younger brother Husain, and Qambar-‘alī. When he discovered this weighty matter, they, unable to remain with him, had gone to Khān.

It was the day of ‘Īd-i-qurbān on 16 June of ad 1502. Babur had presented a quatrain to Khān. He was not very well-versed with the poetic idioms and hence asserted that the creation was ordinary. He was also quite hesitant to present it to Khān for he too wrote verses, although none extraordinary. By presenting his quatrain, Babur also raised his doubts to Khān but it came to be of not much help. The verse was as under:

One hears no man recall

another in trouble;

None speak of a man as glad

in his exile;

My own heart has no joy

in this exile;

Called glad is no exile,

man though he be.

A few days passed. Khān came to know that Tambal had gone into Aūrā-tīpā with his army riding out from Tashkent. He formed an array of men on the left and right between Bīsh-kīnt and Sām-sīrak and counted his men. Having known this, the standards were raised in Moghūl fashion. Babur describes it as below in the Baburnama:

The Khān dismounted and nine standards were set up in front of him. A Moghūl tied a long strip of white cloth to the thigh bone of a cow and took the other end in his hand. Three other long strips of white cloth were tied to the staves of three of the (nine) standards, just below the yak-tails, and their other ends were brought for The Khān to stand on one and for me and Sultān Muhammad Khānika to stand each on one of the two others. The Moghūl who had hold of the strip of cloth fastened to the cow’s leg, then said something in Moghūl while he looked at the standards and made signs towards them. The Khān and those present sprinkled qumīz in the direction of the standards; hautbois and drums were sounded towards them; the army flung the war-cry out three times towards them, mounted, cried it again and rode at the gallop round them.

One must note that the Moghūls followed and observed the rules precisely as Genghis Khān had laid them down a couple of centuries back. A typical trait of Moghūls, each man had his place determined, as it had been held by the ancestors—right, left, left, or centre. It was practised that the most reliable men would take the extreme left and right positions. The Chīrās and Begchīk clans always demanded to take the point in the right. In that period, the Beg of the Chīrās Tūmān was one the bravest ever known. His name was Qāshka (Mole-marked) Mahmud, and Ayūb Begchīk was the renowned beg of the Begchīk Tūmān. Horrifically enough, both drew swords on one another, disputing who would take the right point. Finally, when elders intervened, it was concluded that both would take the very position respectively in the hunting circle and the battle-array.

The next day they made enough rounds and finally decided to go hunting near Sāmsīrak. Following this, they moved to the Tūrāk Four-Gardens. Babur seemed to have cherished this moment. On that day and in that camp, he finished his first ode. The opening couplet reads as follows:

Except my soul, no friend

worth trust found I;

Except my heart, no

confidant found I.

(Excerpted with permission from Aabhas Maldahiyar’s ‘Babur’; published by Penguin)