A Poetic Present Oh Queen of the Age! Most marvellous regent, said the poet. Sultan Razia nodded and signalled for him to continue speaking. With your arms like an ox And legs like an elephant... The Sultan leaned forward on her royal mattress and raised her royal eyebrow at the poet. Did he just compare her arms to those of an ox? And her legs to an elephant s? She did a quick check of her limbs and frowned. They looked perfect; not the least bit ox-ish or elephant-ish! Bahram Shah, Razia s stepbrother, shouted,
What wonderful words to praise my sister s strength! Wah! Wah! Wah! joined in the Fabulous Forty, a group of forty men loyal to the Sultan bandas, as they were also known. They had travelled from different parts of the kingdom to Dihli, where celebrations for Sultan Razia s third anniversary of rule had just begun. Poets and performers had gathered from afar in the royal palace, the Kushki-Firozi, to entertain the court. Ah! So he was speaking of my strength, thought Razia, settling back on her cushions with a smile, as the visiting poet cleared his throat and went on. 2 I speak these words As a small present, With your chest like a rhino, Razia frowned. And plait like a banana, Banana? mumbled Razia, touching her plait under her cap. None can compare To Razia Sultanaaaaa! SULTANA?! ARREST HIM! Take back your
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pesky present at once! yelled Sultan Razia, jumping off her seat, as two bandas caught the alarmed poet and lifted him clear off the floor. Have... have... you not liked my po-po-poetry? stammered the poet. Which p-part, oh great S-S- Sultana-ana-ana? 4 STOP IT AT ONCE! BE QUIET! shouted Razia. I ll recite a different one Oh Sultana, Sultanaaaaa, Sultanaaaammmpphh. A banda s hand clamped the poet s mouth shut as he whispered into his left ear, You fool! You must never call her Sultana! Razia s chief minister, the Wazir, waddled over to the terrified poet and huffed into his right ear, Never ever Sultana. The punishment for this is sixty whips? Or is that fifty whips? Ah! Seventy whips, that s it! Don t whip me! Isn t she a S-S-Sultana? stammered the poet, a little too loudly, the moment the banda removed his hand. Sultan Razia stomped down from her throne and towered over the petrified poet. A Sultana is not a Sultan. Sultanas are wives of Sultans. Sultanas are also sickly sweet dried up grapes. I am no Sultana!
I am the Sultan as much a Sultan as any man who has ruled! Everyone who comes to my kingdom knows they must NEVER call me Sultana! Forgive me Sultanaaaa... an... Sultan! Last night, when I arrived in your kingdom, I found a note in my room that read, You must remember to address the queen as Sultana. You must never call her Sultan or she will have your head. I spent all night rhyming words to Sultana. I particularly liked plait like a banana. A note? Asking you to call me that? asked Razia. Yes. I worked all night to give you the most perfect present. And the words rhyme perfectly - banana, Sultana... whined the poet. Perfect? You have given me a most pesky present! Ruined my evening, said Razia. Wazir! Sultan! Your wish is my command, Sultan! said the Wazir, looking up to face the queen. Of course it is! Do you keep saying that to remind yourself or me? asked Razia. The Wazir looked at her, befuddled. You! I mean myself, great Sultan. I... I mean I don t need to remind myself for I always await your command. 5
Do you think I am disloyal to you Sultan? Surely, you don t? Oh never mind! Take the help of the Fabulous Forty and find the person who has dared to do this. Check with the guards. Track him down and report back to me. Yes, great Sultan. Your wish is my command! said the Wazir, bowing with the bandas as Razia exited the Kushk-i-Firozi. 6