The Clue is in the Couplet
By casting Ghalib as his crime novel’s sleuth, Raza Mir has hit on something enjoyable
The last Mughal emperor’s poet laureate, Mirza Ghalib, using his grey cells like Hercule Poirot should be enough to conclusively recommend Murder at the Mushaira. Raza Mir has, in this engaging historical crime novel, hit the right note by capturing Ghalib’s eccentricity and channelising it towards Sherlockian mystery-solving. As with all great dramas, there is intrigue—the victim is a fellow (if lesser) poet who also spies for the British East India Company. Set in the week leading up to the 1857 war of Independence in Delhi, Ghalib has to race against time in order to help the rebellion against a harsh and
villainous capitalist entity that has slowly seized power from a dissolute Mughal dynasty busy with wine and poetry—the very essentials, ironically, of Ghalib’s existence. The novel, barring minor hiccups, is well-written and comes with an emotionally overwhelming ending.
The murder happens after a mushaira at the haveli of Nawab Iftikhar Hasan, a profligate nobleman. The victim, discovered the next morning, is Sukhan Khairabadi, a generally disliked fellow whose wife, Faizunnisa Khatoon, entertains half of Shahjahanabad. Roshan
Ara Begum’s daughter Syeda Zainab and the latter’s friend, Hyderi Begum Zutshi, a painter of Mughal miniatures, provide two sets of romantic intrigue.
The local Kotwal, under severe pressure from the Company, enlists Ghalib’s help in the case, and he ropes in his friend Prof. Ramachandra Mathur, who, in turn, with the aid of his scientific mind and his student Zakaullah (their romance blossoms during the course of the investigation), provides several timely clues. The murder is solved long before the climax, which centres around the raison d’etre of the crime: the careful coordination of the soldiers’ rebellion at the Red Fort with that of a contingent arriving from Meerut.
Each of the 45 chapters begins with a couplet; for example, Is saadgi pe kaun na mar jaaye ai khuda/ Ladte hain aur haath mein talvaar bhi nahin, launches chapter 18, “Winds of War”. The novel evokes the mid-19th century milieu vividly. It is a panorama of smells, sights and sounds. Even Bahadur Shah Zafar makes a cameo.
There are flaws. The British,
with one exception, are interchangeable stereotypes. The rest of the poets are vain fools—or maybe we are simply sharing Ghalib’s perception. Chapter 24 seems to confuse Surekha and Surabhi (I read it twice to make sure).
The novel is also a reminder, in these perilous times, that Muslims fought for and lost the most in the British conquest. Crime fiction fans may not find it as challenging as a Japanese puzzle-box mystery, but as a historical literary adventure, it is a winner. ■