My Bapu used to say that when a father hiccups his sons go for his purse. That was certainly true about the badshah’s four sons. No sooner had they heard of their old man’s illness than their hands were on the hilts of their swords. But they wanted to make sure he was really dying before they drew them. So they sent messengers to Dilli with gifts for their father. The old fellow knew these tricks as he had tried them in his own time. He seated himself at the window of his palace so that the crowd could see him. He had prayers of thanksgiving said in the mosques. However, his sons were not fooled and started raising armies to march to Agra and Dilli. The badshah decided to get to Agra and sit on his throne before one of his boys got to it. Despite this, one after another his sons proclaimed themselves kings of Hindustan. First, Shuja who was in Bangladesh from where the sun rises put a crown on his head and said: ‘I am King of Hindustan.’ A few days later Murad, who was somewhere in the south, sat himself on a throne and said: ‘I am King of Hindustan.’ Aurangzeb was more clever. He went to Murad and told him: ‘Let me help you defeat our brothers. Then we will lock up our old man who is now too feeble to rule and you can become King of Hindustan. I will then go off to Mecca and pray for you.’ Dara who was the badshah’s eldest and the favourite son was incensed at the behaviour of his brothers. He said, ‘My father is King of Hindustan. After him, I will be King of Hindustan because I am his eldest son. Shuja, Murad and Aurangzeb are bastards. I will kill them.’

We were not sure which of the sons would make the best king. The contractor Lakhi Rai was in favour of Dara. ‘He is the eldest and the eldest son always succeeds his father. Besides he is god-fearing and treats Hindus and Muslims alike,’ he said. The Muslims did not like Dara. They said he was a kafir because he made the stone gods of the Hindus equal to Allah and his Prophet. Their favourite was the third son Aurangzeb.

At this time there was a Yahoodi fakeer, Sarmad, who went about naked like a Naga sadhu. Sarmad told everyone in the bazaars that Dara would win. The people of Dilli were frightened of Sarmad because he was a friend of God and could ask Him for any favour he wanted. One day I casually told one of the Muslims at the sarai what fakeer Sarmad was saying. The Mussalman spat on the ground and exclaimed: ‘La haul valla quwwat! That shameless fellow who dangles his penis before women! If I ever catch him alone I will cut it off and throw it to the dogs.’