“The only thing that can bring him back from the vale of the dead is a sacrifice, biggest of all, carrying the highest value in your house. If you make a great sacrifice, if you sacrifice something most precious to you, only then will your son be cured.”
The words of the messenger ring in my head, making leaps and rounds across the accounts of my memory, as I wonder of the sacrifice that carries the highest value.
I sent a message back to the pious saint of this land, who is known for having a deep knowledge of the living and the dead and is renowned as a Sufi who has a link with the Lord. My message asked if the most precious gem, the Kohinoor diamond shall serve the purpose of the sacrifice. To this, the pious saint replied that if sold, the sacrifice shall be distributed among the poor, in the aftermath, there is only hoping that the sacrifice is accepted.
But it does not feel like a substantial sacrifice for a son as Humayun. He is not made of material, neither can he be measured with the value of a Kohinoor. Because for my son, I can sacrifice all the treasures yet he would stand worth more than all these material gems.
My heart bears witness to the fact that my son is my flesh and bone, my blood whose life will require a sacrifice far more valuable then any stones dug and stolen from the hidden layers of the mud.
In the battle, an eye for an eye, in the court, a conspiracy for a conspiracy, and in the tributes paid, more respect than a respect. Then, for a flesh a flesh and for a heart nearing the halt of its beating heart, a beating heart that shall halt. A life for a life is the only thing that makes sense to me.
The Merciful Lord saved the life of the son of the great prophet Ibrahim with a sacrifice of a life. It was test, indeed a test of loyalty and sincerity, yet as the sharp side of the sword neared the vein of life of the young prophet Ismail, a goat, a living life replaced his body and Hazrat Ibrahim’s son lived to see several suns with him.
So a life for a life makes for a substantial sacrifice. Not a stone for a life. But I have already sacrificed cattle since the day Humayun fell ill. Had that been the destined sacrifice, it would have already been considered.
But a life for a life clicks something, hits somewhere familiar. Cannot a loving father give his life to save his beloved son’s life, to restore the rhythm of his beating heart, which is about to silence forever? Cannot a king save the future of his empire by making a sacrifice of his life?
The dream makes sense to me. Humayun is to see the light of the day with a sorrow of a lost father in his eyes but he will consolidate my conquered lands and raise them to an empire that will leave a prominent mark on the pages of history.
I know now what is destined and with that thought tucked safely in the hope of a healthy son and an emergent king from a dying prince, I, Baber, the first king of the Mughal Empire, make a prayer to the Lord while circling my son’s deathbed.
As soon as I have made a request from the deep recesses of my heart, my message of love reaches the Creator. And I feel a sudden weakness take over my limbs, as I sit by the feet of my beloved son.
My breath grows shallow and darkness threatens to invade my vision and in this threat, it succeeds, as by and by, the edges and then my complete vision grows dark. Simultaneously, a ringing seizes my ears and I cannot hear anything at all.
My forehead starts to sweat, as I feel Humayun stir. I smile and my heart hits contention, my prayer has been heard and the sacrifice accepted. I feel peace take over me, as I recite, “There is no God but Allah and Prophet Mohammad (Peace Be Upon Him) is His messenger.”
