Five Past Midnight in Bhopal - Dominique Lapierre [29]
“By the way, Mr. Dindayal, where is this town of yours, Bhopal?”
The Indian smiled and pointed proudly to his chest. “In the very heart of India, dear Mr. Muñoz.”
The heart of India! The expression excited the handsome Argentinian. Taking the Indian with him as navigator, he set off at once in his gray Mark VII Jaguar for the heart of the country. To him it was like arriving “in a large village.” The industrial zone designated by the government lay just over a mile from the city center, and a little more than half a mile from the train station. In the past, it had been the site of the royal stables for the rulers of Bhopal. The troops of the sultana infantry had used it as a parade ground. The dark color of the soil accounted for the name of the place: Kali Grounds, “kali” meaning “black.” But the term may also have derived from the color of the blood with which the earth was saturated. For it was here that, before thousands of spectators, the kingdom’s executioners used to lop off the heads of those whom the Islamic sharia* had condemned to death.
The Argentinian was not likely to be put off by such morbid associations; two days’ exploring had convinced him. This town of Bhopal held all the winning cards: a central location, an excellent road and railway system, and abundant electricity and water supplies. As for the Kali Grounds, in his eyes they held yet another trump: the string of huts and hovels extending along their boundaries promised to provide a plentiful workforce.
12
A Promised Land on the Ruins of a Legendary Kingdom
The large village the Carbide envoy thought he had seen from inside his Jaguar was in fact one of India’s most beautiful and vibrant cities. But then Eduardo Muñoz had not had time to discover any of Bhopal’s treasures. Since 1722, when an Afghan general fell in love with the site and founded the capital of his realm there, Bhopal had been adorned with so many magnificent palaces, sublime mosques and splendid gardens that it was justifiably known as “the Baghdad of India.” Above all, it was for its rich Muslim culture and tradition of tolerance that the town held a distinguished place in India’s history. The riches of Bhopal had been forged first by a Frenchman, and then by four progressive female rulers—despite the burkahs that concealed them from the eyes of men. The commander-in-chief of the nawab’s armies, and subsequently the country’s regent, Balthazar I de Bourbon, and after him, the begums Sikander, Shah Jahan, Sultan Jahan and Kudsia had turned their realm and its capital into a model much admired in imperial Britain as well as by other African and Asian colonial countries. Not only had the four begums used their own funds to finance the advent of the railway line, they had opened up roads and markets, built cotton mills, distributed vast areas of land to their landless subjects, set up a postal system unequalled in Asia and introduced running water to the capital. In an effort to educate their people, they had introduced free primary instruction for everyone and promoted female emancipation by increasing the number of girls’ schools.
The magnificence of the kingdom and its prestigious capital expressed itself in many different ways. A great lover of literature and herself the author of several philosophical treatises, Begum Shah Jahan attracted distinguished scholars and learned men from countries as far afield as Afghanistan and Persia to her court. The city had supplanted Hyderabad and Lahore as a beacon of renascent Islamic culture that is so rich in Urdu literature, as well as painting and music. Of all the expressions of this heritage, it was to poetry that the