In about 1587 CE, the third Mughal Emperor, Akbar, commissioned his courtier, Abul Fazl, to write a chronicle of the reign of Akbar. At the same time, he asked another person—not as famous—to write a history, too. Gulbadan Begum, daughter of Babur, sister to Humayun and aunt to Akbar, was by then above 60. She had, as an infant, come to Hindustan as part of her conquering father’s entourage. She had lived in this land; seen the dynasty grow from a mere idea to one which saw its zenith under Akbar. She was certainly well-placed, as a royal lady, to write of what she had witnessed.
‘There had been an order issued,’ wrote Gulbadan in her work, ‘Write down whatever you know of the doings of Firdous Makaani (Babur) and Jannat Aashyaani (Humayun). At this time when His Majesty Firdous Makaani passed away from this perishable world to the everlasting home, I, this lowly one, was eight-year-old, so it may well be that I do not remember much. However, in obedience to the royal command, I set down whatever there is that I have heard and remember.’
Gulbadan’s history (which traces the reigns of Babur and Humayun) was named the Humayunnama. Compared to the more famous Baburnama, Akbarnama, and Jahangirnama, it is an unassuming, unostentatious and brief history—also a very personal history, and one which reveals the world of the early Mughals from the perspective of a woman.
In her book about Gulbadan, Rumer Godden draws not just upon the Humayunnama to recreate the early years of the Mughals in India, but also uses varied sources to flesh out the background. From Abul Fazl’s Akbarnama and Ain-i-Akbari, to the accounts of European travellers like Francisco Pelsaert and Niccolao Manucci, to books by more contemporary historians such as Bamber Gascoigne.
All are incorporated into the narrative to make it a good introduction to the period. The result is an interesting book, one that not only uses Gulbadan’s work as a basis, but also enhances it. There are descriptions of everything from gardens and garden parties to how the harem travelled. Babur’s own observations of life in a strange new land, the traditions and customs of medieval northern India, the rituals of Islam. What it was like to be a Timurid princess.
Godden, however, while both a novelist as well as a writer of non-fiction, was no historian; and this shows, every now and then, in the occasional gaffe. While a mention of coconuts growing in Punjab may be forgivable, the description of the ‘bright blue-tiled dome’ of Humayun’s Tomb is embarrassing, given that this spectacular white-marbled dome was never been any other colour. One wonders if Godden was mixing it up with the Sabz Burj just outside the grand tomb complex. Similarly, the translation of Gulnar (‘pomegranate flower’) as ‘red red rose’ suggests a reliance on second-hand research.
This, along with the errors in proofing that dot the book, take away the enjoyment from Gulbadan. Despite that, it still remains a highly readable and interesting book about the early Mughals.