Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
I agreed with him perfectly, and the next morning we set to work to
open the bales. Their contents were indeed costly,--brocades, cloth of
gold, fine muslin scarfs, also woven with gold and silver patterns,
plain muslins, and a few shawls, besides fine cloths of different
kinds for wearing-apparel, and sarees with silk and tissue borders,
the latter from the looms of Nagpoor. These and the jewels in our
possession, when laid out and assorted, made a display on which we
feasted our eyes for some time, wondering at their magnificence; and
after I had made an inventory of the whole, my father and myself,
attired in handsome clothes and mounted on the best of our horses,
attended by a few of the men, took our way into the city. Crossing over
an old but massive bridge, below which ran the river, now a shallow
stream, we entered by the gate at the head of it, and inquiring our way
went direct to the chowke, or market-place, where we trusted we should
find goods exposed for sale similar to our own. The streets were narrow
and dirty, and the interior of the city certainly did not answer the
expectations we had formed from its outside and distant appearance;
still there were evident tokens of its wealth in the numbers of
elephants, on the backs of which, in canopied umbaras, sat noblemen or
gentlemen, attended by their armed retainers. Crowds of well-dressed
persons paraded the streets, and as the festival of the Mohorum had
just commenced, cries of "Hassan! Hoosein! Doola! Deen! Deen!" and a
thousand others familiar to us resounded on every side.
We made our way as well as we could through the throng, and our
attendants were often obliged to clear us a passage, which exposed
them to the jeers and abuse of the multitude, as they were recognized
as strangers from their dress and language. Once or twice I observed a
hand laid on a sword by some respectable person who had been jostled
or pushed by our men, and heard a deep threat muttered; but we managed
to get along, and at length came to a broader street, where the crowd
was less dense; and here that noble building, the Char Minar, burst at
once upon our view. "How grand!" I exclaimed, stopping my horse and
looking up to the huge minarets, which seemed to pierce the clouds; "to
see this alone is worth a journey from Delhi." The minarets formed the
four corners of the building, and from them sprang immense arches which
supported a roof, upon the top of which a small mosque was built. It
did not look capable of supporting the immense weight of the whole, and
yet it had stood for centuries, and the fabric was unimpaired.
"It is the hour of prayer," said my father, interrupting my gaze; "and
hark! the Muezzin calls from the Mecca mosque; thither we will now
proceed, and afterwards transact our business."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account