Chickpeas, with love!
In the spring of 1643, in the newly-established summer resort of the emperor, the emperor sat on the Farah Baksh terrace of the Shalimar Gardens. He could see the sun setting, the summer loo blowing, not much torturous, but still enough to indicate its presence. The emperor, the time of the day, and the summer loo were different entities. However, they shared one common thing: they were on the verge of their end but were still fighting to prolong their existence. 12 years had passed but his wife’s presence did not fade away with her death. In the incestuous stares toward his daughter, in the arms of his courtesans, and in the smell of wine, he could only think of Mumtaz. Even Aurangzeb’s rising influence in the south and Dara’s immense reverence for a peer were enough to shake his soul, but still, they were not. All these woes were befitting for an emperor like him. In the silent hours of the day, he heard some disturbing noise coming from the middle terrace.
Apparently, an abandoned calligrapher wanted an audience with the Emperor of the Universe. Someone is there to complain. The calligrapher had a twelve-year-old son with him. The son tried to copy his father’s torn attire, but still, his mother had a good taste of clothing or at least wanted him to dress properly in front of the Shah Jahan. The calligrapher in his fluent Persian praised his skills and so on. The emperor did not want to speak to a lame calligrapher. He nodded toward the grand vizier. A nod meant an approval. The lame calligrapher was to become the part of the royal artisans. But what of these artisans when the emperor’s heart could not be repaired from bereavement? The guards approached him to take him away, the son turned his body to go back, and gave a last look at the emperor. His life was about to be changed, now he would enjoy good fortunes and would study under great sages, all thanks to the Shah Jahan. But Shah Jahan’s life was not to be changed. Befitting for the Emperor of the Universe.
14 years later, on one night of May, Shah Jahan foresaw something. Tomorrow he would fall ill, and his four sons would fight for the succession. He sighed, he would live long enough to see his sons fighting. Befitting for the Emperor of the Universe. The next year, in the same month, the least favourable choice confronted his most favourable choice. It was Samugarh that would decide the fate of the grandiose empire. Not the Emperor of the Universe. Whilehe suffered from many sicknesses, his sons fought, one a conservative lunatic and another a liberal-minded sufi. Nature decided to refrain from intervention. While Dara ran and ran, Aurangzeb entered Agra, and named himself the Conqueror of the World. Alamgir’s ascension to empire meant an end to the liberal and unity in diversity stance of the empire. The secular system that his great grandfather took years to establish painstakingly was forfeited by the cruelty of Jahangir, wastefulness of Shah Jahan, and the intolerance of Aurangzeb. For 5o years one witnessed grandiose expansions and economy but what came after that was a nightmare for every feudal lord to stop dreaming of an empire.
The father lay on his bed, now a former Emperor of the Universe, the incumbent Conqueror of the World entered in his room, pitied his father, and then, he ordered a house arrest. The former king was to escort his daughter, Jahanara, to the Red Fort. Jahanara was bestowed with the title of Padshah Begum which was later snatched from her. Alamgir treated his family with cruelty as he was taking revenge for giving birth to him. Aurangzeb himself led a simple life and wanted his father to taste it too. He ordered one dish to be cooked in the Red Fort. That one dish would be decided by the former emperor himself. Shah Jahan, now a king on house arrest by his son, went much further in tasting simplicity and opted for chickpeas. Before his coronation, Alamgir came to his father.
“What did you do with your brothers?” His father asked.
“The same you did with yours.” He replied.
“A cook has been called and some other people to take care of you and Padshah Begum, that is what I could do. Rest.” Aurangzeb’s reply to his father.
Now another challenge began for Shah Jahan. To eat chickpeas everyday. He witnessed his father’s claim to the throne, the disputes of his father with his grandfather and Sheriyar, his marriage with Mumtaz, death of Mumtaz, Aurangzeb’s ascension to the throne, and now eating chickpeas for the rest of his life. Except for Mumtaz, he would have hated everything. All befitting for the Emperor of the Universe. The cook gave him chickpeas on the first day, then on the second, and third, and for a month. He got tired of cooking the same chickpeas with the same recipe. Another one was called to cook, and they were allotted shifts by the Padshah Begum.
“You know what? Cooking requires empathy, respect, loyalty, and compassion more than ingredients. My mother told me to cook good food for the ones who have helped you. Whom you admire. Whom you want to see in a better place.” the new cook told the old one whilst he was cooking for the Padshah Begum.
“The first innovative act of mankind is cooking the same meat differently. I feel pity for him because he eats the same legumes every day. He might have not tasted meat for months.” the new cook again.
“Don’t try to be reckless and do something foolish. We are alone here, but still, we are not alone in this fort. If he got the word of it, he would come straight from the Fort like a raging bull, would execute you, and then would execute his father. For the sake of us, do not do something like that.” The old cook knew what the new one wanted to do.
So, the emperor was fed with chickpeas. But of new types every day. Some days legumes would come with legs of chicken, some days with mutton, some days with butter, and many more flavours each day. Rakabdar invented many varieties of chickpeas and gave each of them on alternative days, so the emperor could not get bored of the same old legumes. Later they were named Murgh Channay, Chikar Channay, Cholay Batooray, and Mutton Channay.
Every day Shah Jahan woke up drenched in his grievances and they were soon dried up by those culinary innovations of Rakabdar. Whilst Alamgir destroyed every tolerance and ravaged his and other empires, Shah Jahan lived on the taste of chickpeas, and Rakabdar on his contentment that he had fulfilled his father’s wish of recompensing the emperor for the generosity shown to his family on that day. And today, what illuminates our tables is nothing but the recompensation of a generous act of an Emperor by a Rakabdar. A culinary innovation woven in loyalty and compassion!
