In this way six months passed.
One day Laila did not go to sing. Nadir asked, ‘Why, Laila, aren’t you going to sing today?
Laila said, ‘Now I will never go. Tell me honestly, do you enjoy my singing as much as you did before?’
‘Much more than before.’
‘But others don’t like it any more.’
‘Yes, I am shocked by this.’
‘It’s nothing to be shocked about. Earlier my heart was free. There was place in it for everyone; it would reach out to all hearts. Now you have shut its doors. Now only you are there, that’s why you alone prefer its voice. This heart is now of no use to anyone but you. Come, till today you were my slave; from now on I will be your woman. Come on, I will follow you. From today, you are my master. Set alight this hut. I will burn my tambourine in it.’3
There was a festival of joy in each household of Tehran. Today Prince Nadir had married and brought home Laila. After a very long time his heart’s desires had been fulfilled. All of Tehran swore by the prince and shared in his happiness. The emperor on his part had proclaimed that on this auspicious occasion, no money or time was to be wasted, people should only gather at masjids and pray to the lord to bless the bridegroom and bride with a long life and prosperity. But on the wedding of their beloved prince, money, and more precious than money, time, was of no consequence. The rich engaged in festivities, lit torches, had music played, while the poor took up their tambourines and roamed the streets, jumping with joy.
In the evening the rich and elite of the city gathered in the Diwan-e Khaas to congratulate the prince. Fragrant with perfume, glittering with jewels and blossoming with happiness, the prince came and stood before them.
The qazi pronounced, ‘May the lord bless His Highness.’
A thousand voices said, ‘Amen!’
The wealthy wives of the city too came to congratulate Laila. Laila was dressed in absolutely plain garments. There were no signs of adornment.
One of the women said, ‘May your husband live forever.’
A thousand throats echoed, ‘Amen!’4
Many years passed Nadir was now the emperor and Laila his empress. Iran had never been so well governed. Both were benevolent towards their subjects, both wished to see them contented and self-sufficient. Love had so far erased all those problems that initially made Laila apprehensive. Nadir advocated monarchy, Laila, democracy, but in their interactions, there were no differences. Sometimes he would surrender and at other times she would give in. Their marital life was exemplary. Nadir would observe Laila’s expression, Laila would do the same. When they got some respite from work they would both sing and play, sometimes go wandering by rivers, sometimes sit under the shade of some tree reading and swaying to the ghazals of Hafiz. No longer did Laila lead a simple life and nor did Nadir follow the royal practices of the past. The emperor’s palace, which had housed harems that had begums in scores and dozens, now had Laila alone. In those palaces there were now dispensaries, madrasas and libraries. Where once the annual revenues had reached millions, now they never went over a few thousands. The leftover money was spent on public welfare. This entire plan had been drafted by Laila. Nadir was the emperor but the power was in Laila’s hands.
Everything was in place but the public was not content. Its dissatisfaction grew day by day. The monarchists were afraid that if such conditions prevailed, there was no doubt about the monarchy being wiped out. The tree planted by Jamshed that had for many centuries withstood storms and turbulences was now being rooted out by the delicate yet lethal hands of a beauty. The democrats had had high hopes from Laila, but now all their misgivings were being proved right. They said that if Iran proceeded in this manner on the road to progress, then Doomsday would come before the desired destination was reached. The world is flying in aeroplanes and we are still afraid to even sit on carts for fear that some movement of it may cause an earthquake. Both factions often quarrelled with each other. Nadir’s explanations had no effect on the rich—neither did Laila’s advice to the poor. The nobility became bloodthirsty for Nadir while the public became Laila’s enemy.5
While discontent spread throughout the empire, the fire of rebellion kindled many hearts. In the emperor’s palace the peace of love reigned, the emperor and his queen both under the illusion that the people were content.
It was night. Nadir and Laila were seated in the recreation chamber, playing a game of chess. The room was without any ostentation; only a rug was spread out.
Nadir caught hold of Laila’s hand and said, ‘Enough, no more of this unfairness, your turn is over. Look here, one of your pawns has been beaten.’
‘Oh, this move! All your infantry remain and the king is checkmated! This was my bet.’
‘The pleasure of losing to you is far more than winning against you.’
‘Oh, so you mean you are pleasing yourself! Save the king or you will lose in the next move.’
Vexed, Nadir retorted, ‘All right now, beware, you have dishonoured my king. Once my queen is up, all your pawns will be wiped out.’
‘You seem to have news of everything! Come on, make a move. Now let your queen speak. No excuses now, I’m telling you. Twice I’ve let you off, this time I won’t.’
‘As long as I have my knight, my Dilram the king has nothing to fear.’
‘Oh, this move? Give me your Dilram. Now say, do you accept defeat?’
‘Yes, beloved, now I have been routed. When I have been swept by your charm, then what chance did the king have?’
‘Don’t make excuses, sign this farman quietly. As you had promised.’ Saying this Laila took out the farman, which she had herself written in pear-like letters. In it, the revenue tax for
