Never did I think my life would have such a tragic end. I was once emperor of India, a undischarged Mughal emperor, but now I am a captive awaiting my end when I can finally be drop off of this life and be with my Mumtaz again. I spend my time gazing at the Taj Mahal which contains the mortal remains of my beloved Mumtaz Mahal.
1657 was not a beloved year for me, my health began to fail and a major genteel war broke out among my sons. This is when I realized how such(prenominal) it mustiness have hurt my father, the great Jehangir, when I fought with my chum salmon for com homod of the empire. It was a heart breaking war for some(prenominal) father to witness and at the end of it my son Aurangzeb gained control of the Mughal monarchy.
Alas, Aurangzeb is proving to be an unjust and cruel ruler and will soft but surely bring disgrace to our great Mughal empire. sacred tolerance practiced since the time of my grandfather Akbar is now no more. Hindus are being treated unfairly and being oblige to pay unnecessary taxes. They are not even allowed to discover their festivals. I am ashamed to be the father of such a horrifying dictator as Aurangzeb. I am appalled to hear of the things hes been doing. I am told that he has been weakening the strength of the empire by chip useless wars which I know will lead to objurgate for the empire.
Oh if only my favourite son, Dara Shukoh, had taken the throne after me.
I dearly loved him, and wanted him to be my heir. Yet, the vicious, blood dry Aurangzeb destroyed my dreams, because of which I now dwell not in a palace, but in a tiny octagonal...
a sharp essay, it was able to put into words the agony of a man with a high ranking status in India, making me realized that even the affluents and the famous can also escort hardships- maybe not economically but through his emotions..a must read..
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