The Muslims were more upset by these goings-on than the Hindus. They said it was a disgrace that a manly Turk should allow an infidel to mount him as a horse mounts a mare. The sultan thought the Muslims were unhappy because his beloved was a Hindu. He ordered the boy to be converted to Islam and re-named Khusro Khan. The two celebrated the occasion by getting drunk and carousing with each other in the open. Bawdy jokes about the Gujarati stallion and the Turkish mare could be heard in the bazaars. They reached the sultan’s ears. The ulema who had reason to hate our Khwaja Sahib told the sultan that the source of all the filthy stories about him and Khusro Khan was the hospice at Ghiaspur.

The sultan believed this calumny. He forbade the supply of provisions to the hospice; a police post was established at Ghiaspur to check the coming and going of people.

Strange are the ways of God! Our Khwaja Sahib who was the Sultan of all Sultans, simply wrote the name of Allah on a piece of paper and stuck it on the entrance of the hospice. He announced that the quantity of food cooked in the langar kitchen would be doubled. Allah saw to it that we were never short of flour, lentils, salt or ghee. Although the omarah discreetly stayed away, the number of poor pilgrims to the hospice increased.

This was like a cup full of chillies in the already hot curry of the sultan’s temper. He ordered that the hospice be closed down. But the ways of God are mysterious! He heard of the plight of His Beloved Friend and decided to teach the sultan a lesson. The sinful cohabitation of the sultan and his lover-boy bore its monstrous fruit. Boils erupted on the royal penis and blocked the passage of urine. Physicians applied all kinds of unguents but the boils would not heal nor a drop of urine trickle out. What can medicines do against affliction visited by God! And how long can man live without urinating? Within a few hours the sultan was tossing in agony and crying to Allah for mercy. His mother came to Ghiaspur tearing her hair and pouring dust on her head. She clung to the Khwaja Sahib’s feet and would not let him go till he forgave her son. ‘Let your son abdicate and give his kingdom to us,’ said the Khwaja Sahib. We knew the Beloved of God had some other miracle in mind.

The Queen Mother rushed back to the palace. The sultan was in terrible pain and agreed that as soon as he was able to urinate he would give up his kingdom. ‘No,’ said our Khwaja Sahib to the emissary, ‘first abdicate, then urinate. Write the deed of renunciation in your own hand and put the royal seal on it.’