Mirza

Excerpt is taken from Murder At The Mushaira by Raza Mir

- Raza Mir

Reminiscent of The Name of the Rose, this is a cracking murder mystery, literary novel, and perhaps the finest work of historical fiction in twenty-first-century Indian literature.

This was a bit fishy. Two guests, possibly two love affairs. Young love between Zainab and this Siraj was quite understandable, but who was this friend of Zainab’s, a Muslim woman married to a Hindu, and possibly in a relationship with another? Mirza’s head swam with confusion. He set the matter aside for later examination and continued, turning to the final duo among the five, Ramji and Ghouse. These two he barely knew, his acquaintance being limited to nodding to them during his occasional visits to the haveli.

‘Both of you were at the gate, I suppose?’

‘Ramji is the gateman. He is in charge of security. I supervise all the male cleaning staff and gardeners,’ said Ghouse. It could well have been Ramji speaking, Mirza though, he was finding it hard to distinguish between them. As he thought that, he immediately felt guilty. People of my social station always look at these people as if through a veil, rendering their features inexact and their personalities homogeneous. He looked closely at them and something dropped into place, an old instinct.

Initially, he had found both of them identical, youths of indeterminate age that their reticence made even more difficult to guess.

This restraint was not just verbal but corporeal. There was a way in which they were able to efface their bodies and meld into the background, more prop than a person.