Murder at the Mushaira: Detective Ghalib solves the case

Rohit Mahajan

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Mirza Ghalib makes a startling appearance as the lead investigator in a murder case in this historical novel, set in the backdrop of the conspiracy leading to the 1857’s First War of Independence — mutiny for the British.

The real Ghalib was careful not to offend the British for, as he wrote, he was “eater of the salt of the British government”. The horrible aftermath of 1857 pained him, but the instinct for self-preservation made him temper his verse, an understandable self-censorship, for Ghalib was not martyr material. He wrote an ode to Queen Victoria, requesting for restoration of his pension, and his Dastamboo — his diary of those traumatic times — was published after being cleared by the British authorities.

The imagined Ghalib of Raza Mir, in this novel set in eight days of May 1857, is an eager plotter as the conspiracy to rebel against the British develops. He is sucked into the narrative following the murder of a much-despised poet, Sukhan Khairabadi, at a mushaira. Before being killed, Khairabadi, spying for the British, had warned them by sending an ivory letter opener — “a signal of the gravest danger, the matter of utmost urgency”.

British officers were already nervous because there had been anger among Indian troops over rumours that the new cartridges for their Enfield rifles, issued three months previously, were greased with pork or beef fat. Mangal Pandey had been killed, other troops had been punished. The British realised that the murder was much bigger than a dispute over verses or a woman.

Ghalib is roped into the inquiry by the young Indian officer entrusted with the investigation. The Poet Laureate of the Mughals had acquired a minor reputation of a clever investigator, as he modestly narrates:

“When I was in Lucknow almost thirty years ago, I solved a crime that made me a bit famous. But that subsided. I only got started in Delhi when a series of burglaries were reported three years ago at Ballimaran. Pieced the clues together, and realised the robber had to be a blacksmith…”

Ghalib had the wits and a way with people to extract information, but in this case he needed great forensic knowledge, which he lacked. Ghalib, thus, enlisted the help of his friend, Master Ramchandra, Professor at Delhi College — a character based on the real-life Ramchundra, a mathematician and educator of that time.

With forensic methods that bring to mind Sherlock Holmes — the fictional London investigator who first appeared in print in 1887 — Master Ramchandra examines the clues, right down to the Afghan provenance of the poison given to Khairabadi before he was stabbed. Using the clues, and his clever, snoopy methods, Ghalib solves the crime, and also manages to hoodwink the British.

Mir, it’s clear, has done great research on the era, and has lovingly delineated his characters, bestowing individuality and conceit on each of them — though this effort makes the narrative more digressive and longer than an ideal whodunit.

In fiction, Ghalib’s self-censorship disappears and he speaks in the voice of an Indian nationalist, but he doesn’t sound much like a man of letters — the greatest of the Urdu poets! A sample: “It is sufficient to say that timing is of the essence.” More Holmes than Ghalib, it would appear.