Tales of sorcerers & flying claws

The phrase tilism e hoshruba translates as ‘magic that blows away your senses’, and Musharraf Ali Farooqi captures all the colour and drama of the original Urdu dastans (an ornate form of oral history, which literally means ‘story’) in his English translation, Hoshruba: The Land And The Tilism. For sheer storytelling skill and narrative power, the dastans are hard to beat, and Farooqi’s thick tome, an ideal entry point to one of the greatest stories ever told, will be a revelation for non-Urdu speakers.

The 8,000 page dastans have their roots in the older cycle of stories called the ‘Adventures of Amir Hamza’, popular in the Mughal court of Akbar. These were given an Indian makeover in the 19th century by the enterprising Mir Ahmad Ali of Lucknow, who did away with the Arab-Persian baggage of peris (fairies) and go-sars (cow-headed beings) and brought in local talent in the shape of occult arts, and black and white magic. It is part of the dastan tradition for each storyteller to add his own episodes and embellishments, and when these fantastic tales were eventually put down in print by Munshi Naval Kishore they ran into 24 volumes. This book is only the first of these volumes, and its bulk may seem daunting to the first time reader. But essentially, these are popular stories, meant to sway and captivate the audience in the bazaar, and make for a delightful read.

The pages bristle with black-faced sorcerers, flying claws and a River of Flowing Blood spanned by a bridge of smoke. There are also moon-faced maidens and heroic young men falling in love, as well as tricksters skilled in the art of disguise, who carry a handy zambil or magic pouch in which they stuff anything from a gagged villain to a cut-price Arabian steed. The stories are also very funny, with humour that ranges from downright bawdy to witty asides mumbled by characters, often in the thick of a crisis.  The stories are also an intriguing glimpse into the cosmopolitan society of nineteenth century India — the description of a dancing girl offers a detailed view of the etiquette, food and clothes of the time, with its mixed Hindu-Muslim influences.

The real challenge of translating the dastans lies in the fact that they were meant to be recited, and heard. This is where Farooqi’s translation stands out, by managing to capture the cadences and high flown eloquence of the original, without diluting its irony or humour. Hoshruba is  a labour of love, and one that makes you happy that there are 23 more volumes of the stuff still to come.