FilmIndia (Jan-Nov 1942)

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Our Short Story LOVE IN MARBLE R Commoner's Symbol Becomes Rn Emperor's Sigh By: Dewan Sharaz Copyright reserved by the author) In the days of great Shah Jehan, most famous of India's Moghul Emperors, there dwelled in the city of Agra a sculptor-architect; and his name was Ustad Isa Mohammad. From Shiraz in Persia he came — a quiet, unpretentious man, no longer young, for no mere youth could haw attained to such eminence as his. He was unmarried, and his whole heart and soul were dedicated to the art he loved. And the Emperor, holding him deservedly in favour, commissioned him to carry out extensive decorations in the Imperial palace: and accepted at his hands a carved screen of exquisite workmanship, richly and delicately wrought. "This shall go into the Empress's Zanana,'' said Shah Jahan: and Ustad Isa bowed enraptured: he knew that no more signal honour could have been bestowed upon him. Assad Khan, Comptroller of the Imperial Household, saw to the screen's transport. Assad Khan was young, very handsome, of the blood royal and much admired by all the Empress's ladies. He. however, had eyes for only one of them: and that was his cousin Naseem whose name means Garden Breeze — the loveliest of all and the Empress's favourite. Unfortunately Naseem was not at all sure that she cared for him in return. Assad Khan directed the palace eunuchs as to the setting up of the screen, and the Empress's ladies, with faces discreetly veiled, crowded round to admire. Assad had been hoping for a word with Naseem: he got it. but little satisfaction therewith. Naseem could talk only of the artist who had created the glorious screen. "Who is he, Assad? What is his name and where does he live?" she wanted to know. Assad Khan told her reluctantly. "What does it matter to you. Naseem? He is Ustad Isa of Shiraz. The Emperor has lately given him the old library by the Elephant Gate for a studio and dwellinghouse ". "What manner of man is he?" "Oh. plain and no longer young. Naseem, never mind him now. Let us talk of ourselves." Naseem would not talk of themselves. She was so lost in rapture over the lovely carving, the delicate openwork tracery and exquisitely wrought figures, that she had nc thoughts to spare for him. She was still gazing at the screen, heedless of all else, when he left and the Empress returned. The Empress was Arjmand Banu Begum, known as Mumtaz Mahal (Glory of the Palace), and famed in history to this day as one universally beloved. She smiled understandingly at Naseem's spellbound wonder. "You like this beautiful thing, Naseem?" she said. "Majesty"', said Naseem. from her very heart, 'T have never seen him. JJstad Isa stood entranced. In all his life he had never dreamed of loveliness such as this. 53 Z