In the City of Gold and Silver Read Online Free PDF Page B

blue god, is the Hindus’ most beloved divinity, and the events of his youth are an inexhaustible source of enchantment for them. Before his birth, a prediction announced he would kill the cruel king. In order to escape the curse, the latter, just as Herod would do centuries thereafter, had had all the newborns put to death. However, Krishna’s father, Prince Vasudeva, had managed to hide his son in the countryside, where the young man grew up and worked as a cowherd. His beauty, his intelligence, his noblesse attracted the favours of the gopis.
    Innumerable stories and miniatures portraying his loves depict him playing the flute and dancing with the pretty gopis. But Krishna is no common philanderer; he is a god. He is able to satisfy all the gopis because he is universal love, the Divine Principle, which individual souls seek to unite with in order to attain liberation from the terrestrial world.
    Wajid Ali Shah finally makes his entrance to admiring murmurs. Enveloped in white muslin, his wavy hair flows over his shoulders, and his whole body is covered in blue powder made of finely ground turquoise and pearls. Around him, disguised as gopis, are his ravishing “fairies,” adorned with their most sumptuous jewels.
    They will dance and sing for hours, miming joy, jealousy, despair and again happiness, while he, the seducer, recites verses that drive them mad with love. Wajid Ali Shah has composed the poetry for the occasion in the Urdu language, a harmonious blend of Sanskrit, Persian, Arabic and Turkish, the perfect expression of which is to be found in Lucknow. Inspired by the most famous Arabic tale recounting the love between Majnun and Layla, the king has introduced a variation into Krishna’s life: Krishna falls in love with Radha, but her family is unaware of the boy’s divine and princely nature. They see him as a mere cowherd; they oppose the relationship and lock Radha up. Frantic with sorrow, Krishna abandons his games with the gopis to dance his despair.
    Wajid Ali Shah now throws himself into a stunning kathak performance. A long silk cloth has been placed on the ground, along which the king will advance. His agility is astounding. Despite his corpulence, he seems to fly, his bare feet drawing skilful figures, and when the music stops, the mesmerised audience realises that the crumpled fabric on the ground forms the shape of the sovereign’s initials: W A S.
    Although the Arabic tale ends with the death of Majnun, who is unable to survive the loss of his beloved Layla, to please the people the king provides a happy ending to the drama: moved by the depth of their love, the gods reunite the two lovers.
    The last scene surpasses all the others. As fireworks paint the silver cascade of a waterfall, a white elephant is brought onto the stage. The royal elephant caparisoned with brocade encrusted with precious stones, his ears decorated with pearls and its legs weighed down with gold bracelets, kneels heavily before his master, raising his trunk in a respectful adab. Then, accompanied by Radha, Krishna-Wajid Ali Shah takes his place in the vermillion
howdah
, 28 and they set off towards the palace to the audience’s admiring exclamations and blessings.
    Regretfully the crowd slowly departs, leaving behind the marvellous world it has shared for these long hours of festivity. Their eyes still wide with the sight of so much splendour, Ali Mustapha and Suba Nanda allow themselves to be carried along by the colourful tide.
    â€œIt’s more beautiful every year!” Suba Nanda finally declares. “Our king is a magician.”
    â€œDefinitely!” approves Ali Mustapha. “And most of all, he is generous. Do you know of any other king who would organise celebrations like this for his people?”
    â€œCertainly not. And I’m truly amazed to see how well he played our Krishna!”
    â€œYour god Krishna, do you know he reminds me of our Prophet? All the women fell