Her happiness brimmed over as she thought of the moment the farman would be published in the government gazettes and be seen by lawmakers, and how happy those who cared for the welfare of the masses would be. People will sing my praises and bless me.
Lost in love, Nadir looked at her moonlike face, and it seemed as though if it was within his means he would have stored away her beautiful visage in his heart.6
Suddenly there was a furore at the palace entrance. Like a swarm of ants a horde of people, heavily armed, jostled at the palace gates, trying to bring down the walls. With each passing minute the cacophony intensified and it seemed that the angry mob would break the gates and storm in. Then it was found that some people had scaled the walls on ladders. Laila stood there in shame and sorrow, her head bent. Not a word escaped her lips.
Was this the same public whose tales of suffering made her voice impassioned? Were these the same helpless downtrodden, starving, masses tormented by oppression, to whom she had dedicated herself?
Nadir too stood silent but not from shame. Wrath made his face burn, sparks flew from his eyes, he constantly bit his lips and his hand paused on the handle of his sword. He kept staring at Laila with sorrowful eyes. All he needed was one signal. At her command his army would make this rebel faction flee in the same way a storm bears away the leaves, but Laila would not meet his gaze.
Finally losing patience, he said, ‘Laila, I want to summon the royal army. What do you say?’
Laila looked at him with helpless eyes, saying, ‘Just wait a while, first ask these people what they want.’
At this indication, Nadir went up to the roof. Laila followed behind. Both of them now stood facing the public. People saw them standing on the rooftop in the light of the torches and it appeared as if the gods had descended from the skies. From a thousand voices came the cry—‘There she stands, there she is, there Laila is!’ This was the same people that used to be spellbound by Laila’s melodious songs.
Nadir addressed the rebels in a loud voice, ‘Oh you unfortunate subjects of Iran. Why have you surrounded the royal palace? Why have you raised the flag of revolt? Have you no fear either of me or of your God? Don’t you know that at one sign from my eyes your existence can be reduced to ashes? I command you to go away this very instant or else I swear by the holy book, I will make rivers of your blood flow.’
One of the men, who seemed to be the leader of the rebels, came up in front and said, ‘We will not leave until the royal palace is rid of Laila.’
Nadir said wrathfully, ‘Oh you ingrates, fear the lord! Aren’t you ashamed of offending your queen’s dignity! Ever since Laila became your queen she has indulged you so much. Have you completely forgotten that? You brutes, she is the empress but she eats the same food that you feed the dogs, wears the same clothes you give away to fakirs. Come and see the royal chambers, you will find it empty of ostentation and grandeur like your houses. In spite of being your empress Laila leads the life of a fakir, so constantly is she absorbed in serving you. You should be putting the dust of her feet upon your forehead, making it the kohl of your eyes. Never before on the throne of Iran has there stepped an empress who would sacrifice her life for the poor, share their grief, surrender everything for them; and at her nobility you would cast such a slur! Pity! I have come to realize that you are ignorant, bereft of humanity and vile! You are fit only to have your necks cut with a blunt knife, you should be trampled beneath the feet of—’
Before Nadir could even finish speaking the rebels screamed in one voice, ‘Laila . . . Laila is our enemy, we cannot tolerate her as our empress.’
Nadir shouted aloud, ‘You heartless people, just be silent; look here at this farman which Laila has now forced me to sign. From today the tax on the harvest has been reduced to half and the burden of tax upon your heads is now five million less.’
Thousands of people cried out, ‘This tax should have been done away with completely a long time back. We can’t give even a penny. Laila, Laila, we cannot bear to see her as our empress.’
Now the emperor trembled with anger. Laila said with brimming eyes, ‘If it is indeed the people’s wish that I once again roam around playing my tambourine, then I have no objections. I am quite sure that I will again rule their hearts with my singing.’
Enraged, Nadir said, ‘Laila, I am not a slave to the empire’s frivolous temperament. Before I let you be separated from my life, the lanes of Tehran will become red with blood. Let me make these wicked people taste the just deserts of their cunning.’
Nadir climbed the minar and tolled the danger bell. All of Tehran resounded with its ringing but not a single soldier from the royal army could be seen.
Nadir tolled the bell again, the
