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The Baburnama: Memoirs of Babur, Prince and Emperor #1-2
The Baburnama: Memoirs of Babur, Prince and Emperor
Both an official chronicle and the highly personal memoir of the emperor Babur (1483–1530), The Baburnama presents a vivid and extraordinarily detailed picture of life in Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India during the late-fifteenth and early-sixteenth centuries. Babur’s honest and intimate chronicle is the first autobiography in Islamic literature, written at a time when there was no historical precedent for a personal narrative—now in a sparkling new translation by Islamic scholar Wheeler Thackston.
This Modern Library Paperback Classics edition includes notes, indices, maps, and illustrations.
This Modern Library Paperback Classics edition includes notes, indices, maps, and illustrations.
608 pages, Paperback
First published September 10, 1531
215 people are currently reading
4516 people want to read
About the author
Zahir ud-Din Muhammad Babur
34 books38 followersBaber, also Babar, or Babur, originally Zahir ud-Din Mohammed, a Mongol, conquered India, made periodic raids from 1519-1524, captured Delhi and Agra in 1526, and founded the dynasty of Mughal.
From center Asia, this more commonly known military adventurer established his first kingdom in 1504 and afterward rose to power at Kabul. He built an army for nearby regions and then invaded the Afghan empire of south Asia of Lodi and laid the basis.
A descendant of Genghis Khan bore Babur to a descendant of Timur. He identified his Timurid and Chaghatay-Turkic lineage, while Persian culture steeped his origin.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babur
From center Asia, this more commonly known military adventurer established his first kingdom in 1504 and afterward rose to power at Kabul. He built an army for nearby regions and then invaded the Afghan empire of south Asia of Lodi and laid the basis.
A descendant of Genghis Khan bore Babur to a descendant of Timur. He identified his Timurid and Chaghatay-Turkic lineage, while Persian culture steeped his origin.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babur
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June 19, 2025
This was a good read, although if you really hate having loads and loads of names that seem too similar, this might be tough-going, especially at first - but if you stick to it, it becomes really enjoyable around the middle.
This is the memoirs of Babur (late 15th and early 16th century), founder of the Mughal Empire in India, and one of the first Islamic autobiographies existing. It shows both the good and the bad sides of him honestly: he was both cultured and a warlord. The story (which is not properly finished) starts when he was about 12, from Transoxiana to Samarkand to Kabul and endsing in India; but I think his heart remained in Afghansitan, which was given for his oldest son to govern, as Babur had to stay in India.
The introduction is by Salman Rushdie, and there are notes, maps and pictures (art, objects) included, plus some background explanation. The story is in three parts: 1) Fergana and Transoxiana (his beginnings which show youth and inexperience), 2) Kabul and 3) Hindustan (first desire of visit recorded in 1505, real visit 1519 (with some culture shock), then finally going there for good from 1525 on).
The text is 2/3 edited (which shows in that some measurements are shown in Indian kind when the text still remains outside it), last part is rough draft. There are gaps in the story, some last a few years, and the ends is unfinished though he doesn't die until some years later. There are some biographies of certain people, of different length (including his father's), and descriptions of towns and places (incl. Samarkand, Herat, Kabul and Hindustan).
There are plenty of sieges, battles, conquests, forays, plottings, rebellions. Battles including matchlock guns among weapons, and in India elephants. Descriptions of nature, of food (like grapes and melons), parties, hunting (incl. with falcons) and fishing. Some poetry is included, which was much valued. Nature shows in surprising deep snows, floods and monsoon rains. Two earthquakes are mentioned.
It's a slight surprise to notice that Babur isn't quite completely straight: his first real sexual desire and a crush is on a boy with almost the same name (although this person is never mentioned again, nor does Babur give any sign for further same-sex desire later).
His bloody side shows in often-mentioned beheadings, which sometimes are piled together. There are sometimes also severe punishments and executions, though always for a reason. Babur refrains from drink until midpoint, when also some light drug-taking starts appearing. He does give up drinking in 1527 with a pledge of temperance, and later expresses the difficulty of sticking to it at first.
He builds things: the controversial Babri Masjid mosque's building is not mentioned in the text - it's in one of the missing gaps - so the true circumstances of it being built cannot be told. Anyway, he builds a lot of things (gardens, buildings etc.) and establishes a post system between Kabul and Agra.
In the end, after all the facts and names and actions, which grow clearer to read and enjoy, as I've said, it is a really great read and interesting. So if you have any interest in reading this, I do recommend it. :)
This is the memoirs of Babur (late 15th and early 16th century), founder of the Mughal Empire in India, and one of the first Islamic autobiographies existing. It shows both the good and the bad sides of him honestly: he was both cultured and a warlord. The story (which is not properly finished) starts when he was about 12, from Transoxiana to Samarkand to Kabul and endsing in India; but I think his heart remained in Afghansitan, which was given for his oldest son to govern, as Babur had to stay in India.
The introduction is by Salman Rushdie, and there are notes, maps and pictures (art, objects) included, plus some background explanation. The story is in three parts: 1) Fergana and Transoxiana (his beginnings which show youth and inexperience), 2) Kabul and 3) Hindustan (first desire of visit recorded in 1505, real visit 1519 (with some culture shock), then finally going there for good from 1525 on).
The text is 2/3 edited (which shows in that some measurements are shown in Indian kind when the text still remains outside it), last part is rough draft. There are gaps in the story, some last a few years, and the ends is unfinished though he doesn't die until some years later. There are some biographies of certain people, of different length (including his father's), and descriptions of towns and places (incl. Samarkand, Herat, Kabul and Hindustan).
There are plenty of sieges, battles, conquests, forays, plottings, rebellions. Battles including matchlock guns among weapons, and in India elephants. Descriptions of nature, of food (like grapes and melons), parties, hunting (incl. with falcons) and fishing. Some poetry is included, which was much valued. Nature shows in surprising deep snows, floods and monsoon rains. Two earthquakes are mentioned.
It's a slight surprise to notice that Babur isn't quite completely straight: his first real sexual desire and a crush is on a boy with almost the same name (although this person is never mentioned again, nor does Babur give any sign for further same-sex desire later).
His bloody side shows in often-mentioned beheadings, which sometimes are piled together. There are sometimes also severe punishments and executions, though always for a reason. Babur refrains from drink until midpoint, when also some light drug-taking starts appearing. He does give up drinking in 1527 with a pledge of temperance, and later expresses the difficulty of sticking to it at first.
He builds things: the controversial Babri Masjid mosque's building is not mentioned in the text - it's in one of the missing gaps - so the true circumstances of it being built cannot be told. Anyway, he builds a lot of things (gardens, buildings etc.) and establishes a post system between Kabul and Agra.
In the end, after all the facts and names and actions, which grow clearer to read and enjoy, as I've said, it is a really great read and interesting. So if you have any interest in reading this, I do recommend it. :)
June 16, 2021
In this History I have held firmly to it that the truth should be reached in every matter, and that every act should be recorded precisely as it occurred.
I do not think I ever would have read this book, had it not been gifted to me last Christmas. It is quite a beautiful volume—hefty but compact, the pages thin but not fragile, the font and layout quite attractive—and yet, I still felt daunted by the prospect of reading an autobiography from a time and place that I knew so little about. It was a kind of miniature adventure.
By any standard, the Baburnama is an extraordinary book. The memoirs of Babur, founder of the mighty Mughal Empire, the book covers his life (with notable lacunae) from his early years to a short time before his death. It was written in Chaghatai, an extinct Turkic language that was Babur’s mother tongue. This edition, by the way, was translated by Annette Beveridge, who was something of an extraordinary figure herself, having completed this translation at her English home for linguistic amusement. It was no easy task, as the mountains of footnotes—almost all comments on a particular Chaghatai word or phrase—attest.
Babur’s life was nothing if not eventful. The story begins in Central Asia where, at the tender age of 11, Babur first becomes a ruler. From this moment he is thrown into the thick of politics and war, conquering and losing territories, fleeing for his life, gathering forces again, and repeating the process. Eventually his changing fortunes force him southward, to India (or Hindustan, as he calls it), where he conquers vast territories in a series of massive battles, thus setting the groundwork for the Mughal Empire that would dominate for centuries to come.
And yet this thumbnail sketch does not really capture the experience of reading this book. For one, it reads a lot more like a diary than a polished autobiography, full of short entries of quite quotidian details. One senses that Babur wrote this either for himself or for a small circle, as he does not take many pains to explain who people are. In any case, there must be well over 200 individuals mentioned in this book, which can make for a pretty frustrating reading experience—especially when you are also unfamiliar with the geography of the region. (I do wish Beveridge’s footnotes added historical context rather than expanding upon linguistic puzzles.)
In most professional reviews I have read of this book, the writer dwells upon Babur’s virtues. There is, indeed, much to admire in the man. His prose is plain and unadorned, cutting straight to the point with no unnecessary flourish. Even more important, Babur is frank to quite a surprising extent. He admits, for example, that his first feelings of love were for a boy (even if he did not go after men, women did not seem to excite him all that much). He can be disarmingly sensitive; at one point he cries after a melon reminds him of his lost homeland. And he is consistently honest and fair-minded, neither magnifying his victories nor minimizing his defeats.
Babur also boasts many intellectual virtues. He was quite cultured and literate. This book is scattered with poems, many his own. Clearly, he cared deeply for the written word; near the end, he even takes the time to chastise his adult son for sending him a badly-written letter. And in the section on the flora and fauna of Hindustan, Babur reveals a penetrating eye for nature. He divines, for example, that the closest living relative of the rhinoceros is the horse—a brilliant deduction, considering how superficially different the two animals appear. He consistently dwells on his love for beautiful natural spots and well-made gardens.
So much can be said for Babur. But not enough is said—either in those reviews, or the introduction to this edition—of the river of violence that courses through these pages. True, Babur does not dwell on this violence; he usually mentions it as a passing detail to a more interesting story. But it is never far off, and I always found it disturbing. Babur speaks quite casually about executing prisoners and, indeed, putting whole cities to the sword. Probably I should not be shocked by this. After all, Babur was one of history’s great conquerors; and it is obvious from his own narrative that he lived his entire life under threat of violence.
Even so, I could not bring myself to admire the amateur naturalist knowing that he had, some time before, been strolling through the streets of a conquered city, stepping over the bodies of hundreds of massacred civilians. And I think that this considerably diminished my enjoyment of the book, as I found it far more difficult to savor the quieter, more human moments of the text. This, along with the preponderance of names and the diary-like brevity, made the book a bit of a slog at times. However, if you have any historical interest at all in this time or place, then the Baburnama is obligatory. It is full of so much valuable detail that a historian could easily spend a decade on this book alone, parsing out all of the references, piecing together the wider story. And even if you are a complete amateur, like myself, this book is still quite an educational experience.
May 2, 2010
According to translator/grand old man of Persian and various other languages Wheeler Thackston, "Babur's memoirs were the first--and until relatively recent times, the only--true autobiography in Islamic literature." No one knows why this Timurid/Chingisid heir from Andijan (in what is now Uzbekistan's portion of the Ferghana Valley) decided to write a candid history of his life. Modern, especially western readers, used to centuries of self-examination in print might not grasp the magnitude of what Babur did. But, it is amazing to read the recollections of a 15th/16th century conqueror and see a frank and nearly complete rendering of the many facets of his life.
Babur relates how he was driven out of Ferghana by the Uzbeks and his squabbling relatives, his conquest and loss of Samarqand, his flight to Afghanistan and conquest of Kabul and Kandahar—after which he assumed the title of Padishah—his forays into Hindustan, his conquest of the Sultanate of Delhi and other Hindustani territories, and his consolidation of these holdings. That story is known to the history books, and can actually be tedious reading as Babur constantly drops names—names of towns, villages, warriors, Begs, Rajas, Khans, relatives—until you're not certain if your still reading about the same place or individual as your were a few moments before. However, it is what he reveals about himself, his worldview, habits, attitudes toward religion, bravery, marriage, penmanship, war, etc. that makes the Baburnama worth reading.
Babur emerges from his memoirs as a real person, not a two-dimensional fictional character. He's a collection of contradictions. He's a pious Muslim, but loves wine. In fact he spends a lot of time describing wine parties—the beautiful garden or river raft they took place on—and the antics of those who attended. Yet he also recounts how he forswore alcohol in later years—only to regret it. In one interesting anecdote on poetry, another of his favorite topics, Babur notes that he and some drinking buddies had made some vulgar/risque verse while inflamed with wine. He then notes that he truly regrets the incident and declares that poetry should be above such crude behavior. Of course, even after swearing off demon-alcohol, Babur still regularly enjoyed the narcotic ma'jun (whatever that is) discoursing on how stoned it made him and how beautiful it made the pomegranate/other trees in one of his many gardens look. He also tells the tale of how he had to take opium to relieve the pain from an abcess...that, and that the beauty of the moonlight induced him to (in another apparent contradiction, Babur regularly lambasts the widespread pederasty of Central Asia, but then cryptically notes his affection for a certain young man).
Babur comes off as a cultured Timurid, constantly laying out gardens, composing verse, chastising his grown son and heir for his poor penmanship and letter writing skills, decribing animals, fruits and flowers. Yet, he also tells gory tales of violence, where rebel villages are decimated and conquered cities are marked with skull pyramids (something more typical of his forefather Amir Timur). In telling the fate of those who plotted to assassinate him, the Padishah seems to relish in the gruesomeness of their demise—I believe someone was flayed alive, while another was trod on by an elephant. Of course, this killing was done under his authority as an heir to the Timurid dynasty, and given his rigid attention to proper decorum regarding the ruling hierarchy—the clothes each rank should wear, how they should genuflect/otherwise show respect to betters, what sort of gifts the lesser should bring to the greater—it should not seem a surprise that he never considers his bloodshed excessive or criminal. To expect him to do so would be to anachronistically impose 21st century values on a 15th/16th century man.
Babur relates how he was driven out of Ferghana by the Uzbeks and his squabbling relatives, his conquest and loss of Samarqand, his flight to Afghanistan and conquest of Kabul and Kandahar—after which he assumed the title of Padishah—his forays into Hindustan, his conquest of the Sultanate of Delhi and other Hindustani territories, and his consolidation of these holdings. That story is known to the history books, and can actually be tedious reading as Babur constantly drops names—names of towns, villages, warriors, Begs, Rajas, Khans, relatives—until you're not certain if your still reading about the same place or individual as your were a few moments before. However, it is what he reveals about himself, his worldview, habits, attitudes toward religion, bravery, marriage, penmanship, war, etc. that makes the Baburnama worth reading.
Babur emerges from his memoirs as a real person, not a two-dimensional fictional character. He's a collection of contradictions. He's a pious Muslim, but loves wine. In fact he spends a lot of time describing wine parties—the beautiful garden or river raft they took place on—and the antics of those who attended. Yet he also recounts how he forswore alcohol in later years—only to regret it. In one interesting anecdote on poetry, another of his favorite topics, Babur notes that he and some drinking buddies had made some vulgar/risque verse while inflamed with wine. He then notes that he truly regrets the incident and declares that poetry should be above such crude behavior. Of course, even after swearing off demon-alcohol, Babur still regularly enjoyed the narcotic ma'jun (whatever that is) discoursing on how stoned it made him and how beautiful it made the pomegranate/other trees in one of his many gardens look. He also tells the tale of how he had to take opium to relieve the pain from an abcess...that, and that the beauty of the moonlight induced him to (in another apparent contradiction, Babur regularly lambasts the widespread pederasty of Central Asia, but then cryptically notes his affection for a certain young man).
Babur comes off as a cultured Timurid, constantly laying out gardens, composing verse, chastising his grown son and heir for his poor penmanship and letter writing skills, decribing animals, fruits and flowers. Yet, he also tells gory tales of violence, where rebel villages are decimated and conquered cities are marked with skull pyramids (something more typical of his forefather Amir Timur). In telling the fate of those who plotted to assassinate him, the Padishah seems to relish in the gruesomeness of their demise—I believe someone was flayed alive, while another was trod on by an elephant. Of course, this killing was done under his authority as an heir to the Timurid dynasty, and given his rigid attention to proper decorum regarding the ruling hierarchy—the clothes each rank should wear, how they should genuflect/otherwise show respect to betters, what sort of gifts the lesser should bring to the greater—it should not seem a surprise that he never considers his bloodshed excessive or criminal. To expect him to do so would be to anachronistically impose 21st century values on a 15th/16th century man.
July 18, 2007
if you can avoid the parts where he names everybody he meets and their fathers and grandfathers and dogs and cats, this is an excellent read.
September 17, 2020
' এক রাজ্যে দশ দরবেশের জায়গা মেলে
কিন্তু এক রাজ্যে দুই রাজার শাসন চলে না কভু। ' ( শেখ সাদী, গুলিস্তাঁ)
কিছু ওষুধ আছে তা খেতে ভারি তিতা। অথচ বিশেষ উপকারী। তেমনি কিছু গ্রন্থ আছে, যা পড়তে আনন্দ নেই। কিন্তু জানবার আছে প্রভূত বিষয়। এমনই নিরানন্দে ভরা অথচ ইতিহাস নিয়ে জানার মতো গ্রন্থ হলো উপমহাদেশে মোগল রাজবংশের প্রতিষ্ঠাতা জহিরউদ্দিন মুহাম্মদ বাবুরের আত্মকথা 'বাবুরনামা'। প্রথম খন্ড সমাপ্ত হয়েছে তার ভারত আক্রমণের পূর্বক্ষণে।
পিতার হঠাৎ মৃত্যুর পর চৌদ্দ বছরের কিশোর বাবুর ফরগনা রাজ্যের অধিপতি হন। কিন্তু ধরে রাখতে পারেননি রাজত্ব। আবার চূড়ান্তভাবে রাজ্যহারাও হননি।রাজ্যচ্যুত হয়েছেন। সিংহাসন ফিরে পেয়েছেন। এ দুটি সাধারণ বাক্যের মধ্যকার ঘটে যাওয়া ঘটনার আনুপূর্বিক বিবরণই হলো 'বাবুরনামা'।
উল্লেখ্য, বাবুর কিন্তু তার আত্মকথা ফারসিতে লেখেননি। বইটি তু্র্কি ভাষারই এক উপভাষা চুঘতাই তুর্কিতে লিখিত। আকবরের শাসনামলে তিনি তার দাদার আত্মকথা ফারসিতে ভাষান্তরের ব্যবস্থা করেছিলেন। মূল চুঘতাই তুর্কি থেকে অনুবাদের কাজটি করেছিল আকবরের এককালীন অভিভাবক বৈরাম খাঁর পুত্র। অনুবাদে খুশি হয়ে অনুবাদককে বড়ো পদ দিয়ে সম্মানিত করেছিলেন আকবর। চুঘতাই তুর্কিতে লেখা কেতাবটি এখন আর পাওয়া যায় না। ফারসি অনুবাদটিই প্রচলিত।
ফারসি থেকে ইংরেজিতে অনুবাদের প্রথম চেষ্টাটি করেছিলেন জন লেডেন। কিন্তু ভদ্রলোক কাজটি সম্পন্ন করার আগেই গত হন। লেডেনের রেখে যাওয়া অনুবাদটি পুরো করেন এরসকিন সাহেব।
বাংলা একাডেমি মূল ফারসি নয়। লেডেন এবং এরসকিনের ইংরেজি অনুবাদকে প্রামাণ্য ধরে বাংলায় অনুবাদ করে। অনুবাদক ছিলেন প্রিন্সিপাল ইবরাহীম খাঁ। এই অনুবাদ স্বাধীন বাংলাদেশে করা নয়। হয়েছিল পাকিস্তান আমলে। সেই সময়ের বানানরীতি বর্তমান মুদ্রণেও খুঁজে পাওয়া যায়। অনুবাদে অযত্ন, সম্পাদনায় অবহেলাজনিত ভুলগুলো এত বছরেও সংশোধন করেনি একাডেমি। অথচ বইটির বেশ কিছু মুদ্রণ প্রকাশিত হয়েছে।
বাবুরের আত্মজীবনী মোটেও সুখপাঠ্য নয়। পুরো বইয়ের বেশির ভাগ অংশ জুড়েই নিজের বংশলতিকা এবং বংশের শাখা-প্রশাখায় থাকা অভিজাতদের ভালো-মন্দ মিশিয়ে পরিচয়পর্ব। নিজের সভাসদদের পরিচিতিকরণ পর্বও কম নয়। এই সভাসদদের তিনি 'বেগ' নামে অভিহিত করেছেন।
নিজে মোগল হয়েও মোগলদের সুখ্যাতি করেননি বাবুর। তাদের ক্ষমতালিপ্সা, কলহপ্রিয় স্বভাবের কথা বারবার লিখেছেন। মোগলদের আরও একটি অভ্যাসের কথা অনেকবার এসেছে বাবুরের জবানিতে। তা হলো সমকামিতা। মোগল রাজপুরুষরা যৌনচাহিদা মেটাতে সুশ্রী রমণীই শুধু নয়, পুরুষও সংগ্রহ করতেন। বাবুর এমনও লিখেছেন কোনো মোগলের 'ব্যাটা ছেলের শখ' তথা বাবুর বর্ণিত গেলমান না থাকলে সে মোগল সমাজে মুখ দেখাতে পারতো না।তার এক আমির শেখ মজিদের ঘটনা তিনি উল্লেখ করেছেন। তিনি সমকামিতার মৃদু সমালোচনার পাশাপাশি এও উল্লেখ করেছেন, তিনি বাবুরী নামের এক কিশোরকে দেখে বিশেষ লজ্জায় রঙিন হয়ে যেতেন!
মোগলদের শত্রু ছিল মোগলরা। বাবুর তার কৈশোর এবং যৌবনের যে সময়টি সমরকন্দ, কাবুল, কাহান্দার প্রভৃতি অঞ্চলে কাটিয়েছেন তার বেশির ভাগ সময়ই গেছে যুদ্ধ করতে। শত্রু ছিল তারই আত্মীয়-স্বজন। খসরু শা, তাম্বুল প্রভৃতি শাসকের কথা তিনি বারবার উল্লেখ করেছেন, যারা তার রাজ্য ছিনিয়ে নিয়েছিল। এরা ছিল বাদশা বাবুরের জানি দুশমন। কারা এরা? এরাও কিন্তু মোগল।
রাজপরিবারে জন্মেছিলেন বলে শুধু রাজরক্তকেই চিনতেন এমনটি নয়। পুরো আফগানিস্তানের বিভিন্ন এলাকার মোটামুটি পুঙ্খানুপুঙ্খ বিবরণ পড়লে মনে হয় বাবুর তার জন্মভূমি এবং এর আশেপাশের এলাকা, জনগোষ্ঠী, উৎপাদিত ফসলাদি নিয়েও জানার চেষ্টা করেছেন। কূপমণ্ডূক ছিলেন না।
'বাবুরনামা'র অন্যতম আকর্ষণ বিভিন্ন শায়েরি। বাবুর নিজে কাব্যের সমঝদার ছিলেন। চর্চা করতেন নিজেও। ঘটনা বর্ণনার পাশাপাশি এর সাথে সঙ্গতিপূর্ণ কবিতা বাবুরের কাব্যপ্রেমেরই নিদর্শন। শুধু শেখ সাদী ও জামির কবিতাই নয় তুর্কি এবং ফারসি বিভিন্ন প্রবাদবাক্য 'বাবুরনামা'কে সমৃদ্ধ করেছে।
বংশের বিবরণ, আমিরদের পাঁচালী 'বাবুরনামা'র একঘেয়ে দিক। অপরদিকে, পুরো আফগানিস্তানের বিভিন্ন অঞ্চলের বর্ণনা, তৎকালীন রীতিনীতি, বিভিন্ন ঐতিহাসিক ঘটনার পাশাপাশি বাবুরের অনুসন্ধিৎসু মন এবং কাব্যপ্রেমিক বাবুর পাঠককে নিরাশ করবে না।
কিন্তু এক রাজ্যে দুই রাজার শাসন চলে না কভু। ' ( শেখ সাদী, গুলিস্তাঁ)
কিছু ওষুধ আছে তা খেতে ভারি তিতা। অথচ বিশেষ উপকারী। তেমনি কিছু গ্রন্থ আছে, যা পড়তে আনন্দ নেই। কিন্তু জানবার আছে প্রভূত বিষয়। এমনই নিরানন্দে ভরা অথচ ইতিহাস নিয়ে জানার মতো গ্রন্থ হলো উপমহাদেশে মোগল রাজবংশের প্রতিষ্ঠাতা জহিরউদ্দিন মুহাম্মদ বাবুরের আত্মকথা 'বাবুরনামা'। প্রথম খন্ড সমাপ্ত হয়েছে তার ভারত আক্রমণের পূর্বক্ষণে।
পিতার হঠাৎ মৃত্যুর পর চৌদ্দ বছরের কিশোর বাবুর ফরগনা রাজ্যের অধিপতি হন। কিন্তু ধরে রাখতে পারেননি রাজত্ব। আবার চূড়ান্তভাবে রাজ্যহারাও হননি।রাজ্যচ্যুত হয়েছেন। সিংহাসন ফিরে পেয়েছেন। এ দুটি সাধারণ বাক্যের মধ্যকার ঘটে যাওয়া ঘটনার আনুপূর্বিক বিবরণই হলো 'বাবুরনামা'।
উল্লেখ্য, বাবুর কিন্তু তার আত্মকথা ফারসিতে লেখেননি। বইটি তু্র্কি ভাষারই এক উপভাষা চুঘতাই তুর্কিতে লিখিত। আকবরের শাসনামলে তিনি তার দাদার আত্মকথা ফারসিতে ভাষান্তরের ব্যবস্থা করেছিলেন। মূল চুঘতাই তুর্কি থেকে অনুবাদের কাজটি করেছিল আকবরের এককালীন অভিভাবক বৈরাম খাঁর পুত্র। অনুবাদে খুশি হয়ে অনুবাদককে বড়ো পদ দিয়ে সম্মানিত করেছিলেন আকবর। চুঘতাই তুর্কিতে লেখা কেতাবটি এখন আর পাওয়া যায় না। ফারসি অনুবাদটিই প্রচলিত।
ফারসি থেকে ইংরেজিতে অনুবাদের প্রথম চেষ্টাটি করেছিলেন জন লেডেন। কিন্তু ভদ্রলোক কাজটি সম্পন্ন করার আগেই গত হন। লেডেনের রেখে যাওয়া অনুবাদটি পুরো করেন এরসকিন সাহেব।
বাংলা একাডেমি মূল ফারসি নয়। লেডেন এবং এরসকিনের ইংরেজি অনুবাদকে প্রামাণ্য ধরে বাংলায় অনুবাদ করে। অনুবাদক ছিলেন প্রিন্সিপাল ইবরাহীম খাঁ। এই অনুবাদ স্বাধীন বাংলাদেশে করা নয়। হয়েছিল পাকিস্তান আমলে। সেই সময়ের বানানরীতি বর্তমান মুদ্রণেও খুঁজে পাওয়া যায়। অনুবাদে অযত্ন, সম্পাদনায় অবহেলাজনিত ভুলগুলো এত বছরেও সংশোধন করেনি একাডেমি। অথচ বইটির বেশ কিছু মুদ্রণ প্রকাশিত হয়েছে।
বাবুরের আত্মজীবনী মোটেও সুখপাঠ্য নয়। পুরো বইয়ের বেশির ভাগ অংশ জুড়েই নিজের বংশলতিকা এবং বংশের শাখা-প্রশাখায় থাকা অভিজাতদের ভালো-মন্দ মিশিয়ে পরিচয়পর্ব। নিজের সভাসদদের পরিচিতিকরণ পর্বও কম নয়। এই সভাসদদের তিনি 'বেগ' নামে অভিহিত করেছেন।
নিজে মোগল হয়েও মোগলদের সুখ্যাতি করেননি বাবুর। তাদের ক্ষমতালিপ্সা, কলহপ্রিয় স্বভাবের কথা বারবার লিখেছেন। মোগলদের আরও একটি অভ্যাসের কথা অনেকবার এসেছে বাবুরের জবানিতে। তা হলো সমকামিতা। মোগল রাজপুরুষরা যৌনচাহিদা মেটাতে সুশ্রী রমণীই শুধু নয়, পুরুষও সংগ্রহ করতেন। বাবুর এমনও লিখেছেন কোনো মোগলের 'ব্যাটা ছেলের শখ' তথা বাবুর বর্ণিত গেলমান না থাকলে সে মোগল সমাজে মুখ দেখাতে পারতো না।তার এক আমির শেখ মজিদের ঘটনা তিনি উল্লেখ করেছেন। তিনি সমকামিতার মৃদু সমালোচনার পাশাপাশি এও উল্লেখ করেছেন, তিনি বাবুরী নামের এক কিশোরকে দেখে বিশেষ লজ্জায় রঙিন হয়ে যেতেন!
মোগলদের শত্রু ছিল মোগলরা। বাবুর তার কৈশোর এবং যৌবনের যে সময়টি সমরকন্দ, কাবুল, কাহান্দার প্রভৃতি অঞ্চলে কাটিয়েছেন তার বেশির ভাগ সময়ই গেছে যুদ্ধ করতে। শত্রু ছিল তারই আত্মীয়-স্বজন। খসরু শা, তাম্বুল প্রভৃতি শাসকের কথা তিনি বারবার উল্লেখ করেছেন, যারা তার রাজ্য ছিনিয়ে নিয়েছিল। এরা ছিল বাদশা বাবুরের জানি দুশমন। কারা এরা? এরাও কিন্তু মোগল।
রাজপরিবারে জন্মেছিলেন বলে শুধু রাজরক্তকেই চিনতেন এমনটি নয়। পুরো আফগানিস্তানের বিভিন্ন এলাকার মোটামুটি পুঙ্খানুপুঙ্খ বিবরণ পড়লে মনে হয় বাবুর তার জন্মভূমি এবং এর আশেপাশের এলাকা, জনগোষ্ঠী, উৎপাদিত ফসলাদি নিয়েও জানার চেষ্টা করেছেন। কূপমণ্ডূক ছিলেন না।
'বাবুরনামা'র অন্যতম আকর্ষণ বিভিন্ন শায়েরি। বাবুর নিজে কাব্যের সমঝদার ছিলেন। চর্চা করতেন নিজেও। ঘটনা বর্ণনার পাশাপাশি এর সাথে সঙ্গতিপূর্ণ কবিতা বাবুরের কাব্যপ্রেমেরই নিদর্শন। শুধু শেখ সাদী ও জামির কবিতাই নয় তুর্কি এবং ফারসি বিভিন্ন প্রবাদবাক্য 'বাবুরনামা'কে সমৃদ্ধ করেছে।
বংশের বিবরণ, আমিরদের পাঁচালী 'বাবুরনামা'র একঘেয়ে দিক। অপরদিকে, পুরো আফগানিস্তানের বিভিন্ন অঞ্চলের বর্ণনা, তৎকালীন রীতিনীতি, বিভিন্ন ঐতিহাসিক ঘটনার পাশাপাশি বাবুরের অনুসন্ধিৎসু মন এবং কাব্যপ্রেমিক বাবুর পাঠককে নিরাশ করবে না।
November 22, 2009
The Baburnama isn't something you read from beginning to end. Rather, it's a book you dip into at random, slowly building up a patchwork view of life in what is today Afghanistan, Pakistan and India, as seen through the eyes of the first Mughal emperor, Babur (1483-1530). Now you read about Babur's impressions of India (he hates it, apart from the gold, and mangoes); now about his private life (his mother has to force him to visit his wife, but he has no hesitation in declaring his love for a dashing Afghan boy). Most of all you read about war, and the battles between various clans, tribes and empires in central and southern Asia. A situation that hasn't changed much in 500 years.
February 27, 2020
In the month of Ramadan in the year 899 [June 1494], in the province of Fergana, in my 12th year, I became king .
Zaheer-ud-Din Muhammad Babur, the first Mughal Emperor, who built this great dynasty to rule for 300 years in Hindustan. Baburnama, essentially known as Tuzk-i-Baburi, is most probably considered the first ever Autobiography to be written by a Muslim Emperor. His diaries explores what it was like to live life in 16th century central Asia; it captures who Babur was in real life, what were his aims and objectives, where did he come from, how much further he wanted to go, how his senses were sharpened by his amazing ancestry and background (His father came from Amir Timur's son Miran Shah's line, and his mother from Genghis Khan), and his ability to fluently speak Turk and Persian. This book captures how horribly violent life was in Babur's era, how he fought wars with armies much in number from his mere thousands. His narrative is introspective, a look at his own life, his shortcomings, his downfalls, his triumphs and tragedies. He wasn't just ferocious as a warrior, Babur's humbleness is touching, his sensitivity towards some of the most simplest of things, his love and care for the women of his family, and his sense of awe and appreciation of beauty in the world.
The last part of Baburnama gets more melancholic. Babur is a sole ruler of Hindustan now, a great Sultanat; but it's cities are unpleasant for Babur. A melon sent from Kabul made him weep at the thought of all that he had lost: the cities of Kabul and Samarkand, and his youth. His love for Kabul is reminiscent throughout the book, where he firstly established his rule, all his children were born there.
This book is a treasure and a source of immense nostalgia for anyone who's interested in knowing more about the original Mughal – Babur. This translation was amazing because it had a lot of explanations, pictures and marginal notes to help understand better, as it gets tricky at some places, with all the names and new people Babur keeps mentioning.
To encounter the private thoughts of a great Emperor like Babur is a unique experience, and I am so delving into it, right now. My nostalgia for the original Mughals is unending for some unknown reason.
Ps: His description of the animals and fruits of Hindustan is just mouth-watering.
Zaheer-ud-Din Muhammad Babur, the first Mughal Emperor, who built this great dynasty to rule for 300 years in Hindustan. Baburnama, essentially known as Tuzk-i-Baburi, is most probably considered the first ever Autobiography to be written by a Muslim Emperor. His diaries explores what it was like to live life in 16th century central Asia; it captures who Babur was in real life, what were his aims and objectives, where did he come from, how much further he wanted to go, how his senses were sharpened by his amazing ancestry and background (His father came from Amir Timur's son Miran Shah's line, and his mother from Genghis Khan), and his ability to fluently speak Turk and Persian. This book captures how horribly violent life was in Babur's era, how he fought wars with armies much in number from his mere thousands. His narrative is introspective, a look at his own life, his shortcomings, his downfalls, his triumphs and tragedies. He wasn't just ferocious as a warrior, Babur's humbleness is touching, his sensitivity towards some of the most simplest of things, his love and care for the women of his family, and his sense of awe and appreciation of beauty in the world.
The last part of Baburnama gets more melancholic. Babur is a sole ruler of Hindustan now, a great Sultanat; but it's cities are unpleasant for Babur. A melon sent from Kabul made him weep at the thought of all that he had lost: the cities of Kabul and Samarkand, and his youth. His love for Kabul is reminiscent throughout the book, where he firstly established his rule, all his children were born there.
This book is a treasure and a source of immense nostalgia for anyone who's interested in knowing more about the original Mughal – Babur. This translation was amazing because it had a lot of explanations, pictures and marginal notes to help understand better, as it gets tricky at some places, with all the names and new people Babur keeps mentioning.
To encounter the private thoughts of a great Emperor like Babur is a unique experience, and I am so delving into it, right now. My nostalgia for the original Mughals is unending for some unknown reason.
Ps: His description of the animals and fruits of Hindustan is just mouth-watering.
April 15, 2009
This is an excellent translation of a most compelling book, the autobiography of the founder of the Moghul empire. If you ever wondered how feudalism actually works, this is the book for you. Far from leading a life soley devoted to luxury and dancing girls, Babur is busy keeping his retinue in line and ensuring that the various challenges to his power are properly responded to.
The book is disarmingly honest, reporting drinking parties and drug taking as well as battles and disloyalty by those sworn to fealty.
The book is disarmingly honest, reporting drinking parties and drug taking as well as battles and disloyalty by those sworn to fealty.
July 11, 2023
Babur, the founder of the Mughal rule in India and one of the most intriguing characters in history, occupies a place of pride among the contemporary writers to whom we are profoundly obligated for our knowledge of history of the period under review.
The autobiography, written in his mother-tongue ‘Chaghatai Turki’, a native tongue spoken in Ferghana, the ancestral kingdom of Babur was a dialect of the Turki tongue which prevailed in the widespread tract of the country that once formed the dominions of Jaghatai or Chaghatai Khan.
According to historians of linguistics, ‘Chaghatai Turki’ was, however, principally the language of the deserts and plains; as the cities, particularly along the Jaxartes, and to the south of the river, continued to be, in general, inhabited by persons speaking the Persian tongue, while the inhabitants of most of the hills to the south retained their original languages.
The Turki language had been much cultivated before the age of Babur, and at that period had every title to be ranked among the most perfect and sophisticated in the East.
This book is a first-rate authority on Babur’s own career and the history of his times.
Baburnama was twice translated into Persian during the reign of Akbar, first by Painda Khan, and afterwards by Abdur Rahim Mirza.
The subject-matter of the Baburnama falls into three territorial divisions: those of the lands of his successive rule – 1) Ferghana (including Samarqand), 2) Kabul and 3) Hindustan. The narrative usually follows the chronological order, nevertheless, while describing an on-the-spot situation, the author sometimes also reminisces and clarifies much earlier events of his life with reference to the context.
The memoirs were perceptibly written by him during his intervals of leisure although we do not know as to when did he first start the composition.
From a vigilant study of the style and critical scrutiny of the events and characterisation as given by the author in the first part of the narrative, it has been surmised that Babur had written these pages chiefly from recollections long after the occurrence of the events while the rest of the work, dealing particularly with his activities in India, seems to have been scribbled down in the form of a personal diary or a journal.
The first part of the memoirs, which seems to have also been revised by the author at a later date, actually reads like a romance. The book deals with that part of his career when he was 'unfortunate and often a wanderer': albeit 'always lively, active and bold'.
The reader follows him in his numerous adventures with that delight which unavoidably springs from the infinitesimal and vivacious recital of the perilous exploits of a youthful warrior.
Babur was a man of fine literary taste and critical perception; his style is at once simple, straightforward and graceful. He does not waste his time or words in giving elaborate introductions or backgrounds; instead, he is always matter of fact, brief and yet very clear in his descriptions.
An accomplished poet in Persian and Chaghatai Turki, he is accredited with an unadulterated and unpretentious style in prose and verse.
In the midst of a tragic narration, he would break to quote a verse, and find leisure in the thickest of his difficulties and dangers to compose an ode on his misfortunes'. His battles as well as his orgies 'were humanised by a breath of poetry.
Babur is truthful and straightforward in his utterances; he frankly gives vent to his emotion and describes his achieve ments and failures, virtue and vice in the same breath without mincing words or exhibiting any sign of hesitation.
This characteristic of his memoir gives it an authority which is equal to their charm. Lane-Poole goes to the extent of saying that: ‘If ever there was a case when the testimony of a single historical document unsupported by other evidence, should be accepted as sufficient proof, it is the case with Babur's memoirs. No reader of this prince of autobiographers can doubt his honesty or his capability as observer and chronicler.’
The autobiography, written in his mother-tongue ‘Chaghatai Turki’, a native tongue spoken in Ferghana, the ancestral kingdom of Babur was a dialect of the Turki tongue which prevailed in the widespread tract of the country that once formed the dominions of Jaghatai or Chaghatai Khan.
According to historians of linguistics, ‘Chaghatai Turki’ was, however, principally the language of the deserts and plains; as the cities, particularly along the Jaxartes, and to the south of the river, continued to be, in general, inhabited by persons speaking the Persian tongue, while the inhabitants of most of the hills to the south retained their original languages.
The Turki language had been much cultivated before the age of Babur, and at that period had every title to be ranked among the most perfect and sophisticated in the East.
This book is a first-rate authority on Babur’s own career and the history of his times.
Baburnama was twice translated into Persian during the reign of Akbar, first by Painda Khan, and afterwards by Abdur Rahim Mirza.
The subject-matter of the Baburnama falls into three territorial divisions: those of the lands of his successive rule – 1) Ferghana (including Samarqand), 2) Kabul and 3) Hindustan. The narrative usually follows the chronological order, nevertheless, while describing an on-the-spot situation, the author sometimes also reminisces and clarifies much earlier events of his life with reference to the context.
The memoirs were perceptibly written by him during his intervals of leisure although we do not know as to when did he first start the composition.
From a vigilant study of the style and critical scrutiny of the events and characterisation as given by the author in the first part of the narrative, it has been surmised that Babur had written these pages chiefly from recollections long after the occurrence of the events while the rest of the work, dealing particularly with his activities in India, seems to have been scribbled down in the form of a personal diary or a journal.
The first part of the memoirs, which seems to have also been revised by the author at a later date, actually reads like a romance. The book deals with that part of his career when he was 'unfortunate and often a wanderer': albeit 'always lively, active and bold'.
The reader follows him in his numerous adventures with that delight which unavoidably springs from the infinitesimal and vivacious recital of the perilous exploits of a youthful warrior.
Babur was a man of fine literary taste and critical perception; his style is at once simple, straightforward and graceful. He does not waste his time or words in giving elaborate introductions or backgrounds; instead, he is always matter of fact, brief and yet very clear in his descriptions.
An accomplished poet in Persian and Chaghatai Turki, he is accredited with an unadulterated and unpretentious style in prose and verse.
In the midst of a tragic narration, he would break to quote a verse, and find leisure in the thickest of his difficulties and dangers to compose an ode on his misfortunes'. His battles as well as his orgies 'were humanised by a breath of poetry.
Babur is truthful and straightforward in his utterances; he frankly gives vent to his emotion and describes his achieve ments and failures, virtue and vice in the same breath without mincing words or exhibiting any sign of hesitation.
This characteristic of his memoir gives it an authority which is equal to their charm. Lane-Poole goes to the extent of saying that: ‘If ever there was a case when the testimony of a single historical document unsupported by other evidence, should be accepted as sufficient proof, it is the case with Babur's memoirs. No reader of this prince of autobiographers can doubt his honesty or his capability as observer and chronicler.’
August 18, 2021
I read this book intermittently from 2016 (for my general exams), and between 2017-2019 when I spent some time traveling in Central Asia to some of the locales mentioned in the book, and finally finished in 2021. It is a chronicle and has the extensive details of names and battles that such histories tend to entail, but what is unique is that it was written by someone who knew many of the characters and is something of a historical figure himself, as Babur was a king and ultimately the founder of the Mughal Empire. This chronicle covers the time when he left his home base in Andijan in what is now Uzbekistan, and his journeys into Samarqand, and into exile to Kabul and towards India.
It is interesting to read this now as Afghanistan is once again in our news. It seems in modern times the country just cannot catch a break. We forget that once upon a time it was the seat of kings and was (and still is) a beautiful place of mountains and prosperous cities along the Silk Road. In Babur’s time, some 500 years ago, he waxes nostalgic for Kabul’s cool mountainous climes as he left and went towards India, which is a place he never quite got used to (though he loved mangos). The book is slow and carries with it abundant descriptions of landscapes and the minute variations between different zones and valleys that we don’t notice these days in our jet setting life. The plants, the mountains, the meadows (those with biting gnats and those without, which makes a big difference in your quality of life while visiting), lakes and rivers, and culture of different tribal confederations.
Babur himself is also what we would call today a cross between an enlightened warlord and a renaissance man. He is keenly interested in botany and learning randoms bits and bops of culture, and a sharp observer of people and their nature, and he mourned when a storm blew over his tent and drenched his papers and books. On the other hand, he is a descendant of Timur and Chinggis Khan, men who conquered the world through brutal means, and Babur himself engaged in numerous battles and ordered executions, sometimes using horrible methods, and sometimes massacring them. There was a scene after a battle where they piled up heads afterward, just as his infamous ancestor Timur had done. But he also writes poetry, sometimes has pangs of regret and piety and decides to quit drinking, but subsequently took up to getting high on ma’jun and opium while in old age. He’s also a father, and in his letter to his son Humayun he gently corrects some of his misspellings (students of Arabic could empathize with the confusion sown by having multiple letters for the sounds of s, t, z, d). In other words, he is human, just one who casts a larger-than-life shadow on the history of this region.
Babur also observes with an eye of wonder. There was a brief description of how he found fish in a river near their encampment, which were coming to the surface due to their light. So with a group of guys, Babur and company all got into the water for a late-night fishing session… The stories take me back to camping and riding trips in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, into old fortresses, into the lush wilderness, and ascending the forbidding mountain passes. Wading in bone-cold springs formed from melted ice caps in summer. Camping by lonesome lakes that can be reached only after hours or days of journey.
Central Asia is beautiful. History is complicated. People are complex. One can explore for years with an open mind but still cannot figure it out.
It is interesting to read this now as Afghanistan is once again in our news. It seems in modern times the country just cannot catch a break. We forget that once upon a time it was the seat of kings and was (and still is) a beautiful place of mountains and prosperous cities along the Silk Road. In Babur’s time, some 500 years ago, he waxes nostalgic for Kabul’s cool mountainous climes as he left and went towards India, which is a place he never quite got used to (though he loved mangos). The book is slow and carries with it abundant descriptions of landscapes and the minute variations between different zones and valleys that we don’t notice these days in our jet setting life. The plants, the mountains, the meadows (those with biting gnats and those without, which makes a big difference in your quality of life while visiting), lakes and rivers, and culture of different tribal confederations.
Babur himself is also what we would call today a cross between an enlightened warlord and a renaissance man. He is keenly interested in botany and learning randoms bits and bops of culture, and a sharp observer of people and their nature, and he mourned when a storm blew over his tent and drenched his papers and books. On the other hand, he is a descendant of Timur and Chinggis Khan, men who conquered the world through brutal means, and Babur himself engaged in numerous battles and ordered executions, sometimes using horrible methods, and sometimes massacring them. There was a scene after a battle where they piled up heads afterward, just as his infamous ancestor Timur had done. But he also writes poetry, sometimes has pangs of regret and piety and decides to quit drinking, but subsequently took up to getting high on ma’jun and opium while in old age. He’s also a father, and in his letter to his son Humayun he gently corrects some of his misspellings (students of Arabic could empathize with the confusion sown by having multiple letters for the sounds of s, t, z, d). In other words, he is human, just one who casts a larger-than-life shadow on the history of this region.
Babur also observes with an eye of wonder. There was a brief description of how he found fish in a river near their encampment, which were coming to the surface due to their light. So with a group of guys, Babur and company all got into the water for a late-night fishing session… The stories take me back to camping and riding trips in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, into old fortresses, into the lush wilderness, and ascending the forbidding mountain passes. Wading in bone-cold springs formed from melted ice caps in summer. Camping by lonesome lakes that can be reached only after hours or days of journey.
Central Asia is beautiful. History is complicated. People are complex. One can explore for years with an open mind but still cannot figure it out.
June 23, 2023
opinions, we all have them, but do all of them matter? perhaps for a opinion of somebody to matter on something it needs to come from a place of clear sight, from a tongue good enough to judge the taste, a higher stand on the stage from where you can look and judge nodding your head, and i so wish i could thump my chest out and proudly judge this piece of work so easily, but i cant, its merits, its praise, its genius is just on another league and i assume it must be one of the few books of its kind in all of humanity
it is the autobiography of emperor babur, and begins when he was very young in his homeland of fergana, with his father dead, and danger all around him, what follows is a lifetime of writing journaling, war, philosophy, poetry, it was honestly surreal that this man kept going on and on,
he didn't back down till his last breath always thinking of things, always planning his next escapade, either being busy living life to the fullest or busy making war, but he was no simple savage, he was a man refined - a man very well read, a man obsessed with literary arts (he even invented his own script and it has a part where he is chastising his son for writing in horrible prose), a man obsessed with poetry and gardens, connoisseur of good food and of nature, and a pious man - addicted to drinking and all at the same time along with all sorts of contradictions, but it wont feel like that, it all comes together and shows up together in the soul of the giant of a man he is throughout this book.
just to think of it makes my jaw drop, of all in it, and no matter what i say would be enough to begin describing its merit. and reading this made me glad that i was blessed enough to be born in this era where me, a layman, a pleb could read the translated text and get to hear the life and thoughts of zaheeruddin babur, from his own refined, one of a kind enigmatic mind.
he keeps repeating in it how - 'for two poor people even a single blanket would be enough, while for two kings in the same place even the world might not be enough'
and by reading this it left me full of such satisfaction and amazement on one hand like one of those poor mentioned above would feel, but at the same i felt like a greedy king wanting babur to go on and on with his talks and his ever streaming down pearls of refinement,
and i am grateful that in this life of mine, i have read this.
it is the autobiography of emperor babur, and begins when he was very young in his homeland of fergana, with his father dead, and danger all around him, what follows is a lifetime of writing journaling, war, philosophy, poetry, it was honestly surreal that this man kept going on and on,
he didn't back down till his last breath always thinking of things, always planning his next escapade, either being busy living life to the fullest or busy making war, but he was no simple savage, he was a man refined - a man very well read, a man obsessed with literary arts (he even invented his own script and it has a part where he is chastising his son for writing in horrible prose), a man obsessed with poetry and gardens, connoisseur of good food and of nature, and a pious man - addicted to drinking and all at the same time along with all sorts of contradictions, but it wont feel like that, it all comes together and shows up together in the soul of the giant of a man he is throughout this book.
just to think of it makes my jaw drop, of all in it, and no matter what i say would be enough to begin describing its merit. and reading this made me glad that i was blessed enough to be born in this era where me, a layman, a pleb could read the translated text and get to hear the life and thoughts of zaheeruddin babur, from his own refined, one of a kind enigmatic mind.
he keeps repeating in it how - 'for two poor people even a single blanket would be enough, while for two kings in the same place even the world might not be enough'
and by reading this it left me full of such satisfaction and amazement on one hand like one of those poor mentioned above would feel, but at the same i felt like a greedy king wanting babur to go on and on with his talks and his ever streaming down pearls of refinement,
and i am grateful that in this life of mine, i have read this.
February 19, 2016
Bu seçmeler sadece tadımlık. Er geç tam halini de okumak lazım. 1500'lü yıllarda bir devlet adamının gezdiği/fethettiği yerleri, hatıralarını, yolculuklarını titizlikle kayda geçirmesi hayranlık verici. Kitabın başında da belirtildiği üzere Bâbürnâme, hem bir biyografi, hem bir hatıra, hem bir tarih, hem bir siyaset, hem bir botanik, hem bir zooloji kitabı. Bir yolculuğun kitabı.
Üstelik tarafsız bir bakış açısıyla yazıldığı izlenimi uyandırdı bende. (Aksi halde, "önce ishal oldum, sonra kabız." "Ablamı bırakıp oradan kaçmak zorunda kaldım" gibi cümleler olmazdı.)
Büyük adammışsın Ey Bâbür! Sıkıntılı yolculuklarından kâm alarak istifade etmek ve de karşılığını yollara düşerek not etmek de bizim borcumuz olsun.
Üstelik tarafsız bir bakış açısıyla yazıldığı izlenimi uyandırdı bende. (Aksi halde, "önce ishal oldum, sonra kabız." "Ablamı bırakıp oradan kaçmak zorunda kaldım" gibi cümleler olmazdı.)
Büyük adammışsın Ey Bâbür! Sıkıntılı yolculuklarından kâm alarak istifade etmek ve de karşılığını yollara düşerek not etmek de bizim borcumuz olsun.
January 16, 2024
I admit it took me way too long to finish this book but when it ended rather abruptly I did feel sad... the names are way too many, hard to remember n honestly not that important (most of them anyway). That being said, the documentation is authentic, personal n rather delightful when it comes to Hindustan... Time well wasted I'd say!
December 19, 2009
Long before Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal for his beloved, there was a Great Moghul who began it all: Babur, a descendant of both Genghis Khan and Tamerlane who first established Mughal rule over India. His claim to fame rests on three things: the story of his death, the controversy over the mosque that he built, and the Baburnama, the first and only autobiography in Islamic literature until the 19th century. It is a vast, complex narrative of an extraordinarily eventful life, full of battles and conquests, as befit his status as a Timurid prince in search of a realm, but also of moonlit drinking parties filled with poetry and music. The first Mughal emperor is both a sensitive man of culture deeply versed in Persian classical literature and a ruthless Ghazi (‘Slayer of the Infidels’) who reveled in erecting towers of skulls from the severed heads of his enemies. He sees no contradiction whatsoever between these different aspects of his personality, and is disarmingly frank, even at times confessional, about his weaknesses, such as his fondness for wine and the narcotic ma’jun, which he often indulged in between bouts of hunting and military expeditions.
Born as a minor prince in what is now Uzbekistan, Babur is a scion of the Timurids, a dynasty established by Tamerlane, which had ruled over much of Central Asia since the 14th century. The Timurid princes were constantly engaged in territorial battles, and from his early teens, Babur had been embroiled in the complex, ever shifting intrigues between his blood relatives. More than once he had succeeded in holding and losing Samarkand, and on several occasions, desperately holding on to his life after being defeated by stronger rivals. Necessity turned him toward the north, to Afghanistan, which he conquered at the age of 23. Several years later, he made his first foray into Hindustan, a much larger and wealthier realm that he finally conquered more than two decades later. He famously loathed his new realm, complaining about its heat and dust, pining for his beloved Kabul, where he was eventually buried. A man of lively curiosity, he wrote about the flora and fauna of India, its landscapes and rivers, and of its native princes and their palaces and temples. He destroyed naked idols that offended his Muslim sensibility, and allegedly built a mosque in Ayodhya, which later became a bone of contention between Muslims and Hindu extremists (who believed that the mosque stood on the birthplace of Rama, an avatar of Vishnu).
He died at the age of 47, not long after conquering India. The following is Amitav Ghosh’s retelling of the legend of Babur’s death.
“Of the many stories told of Babur none is more wonderful than that of his death. In 1530 Humayun, Babur’s beloved eldest son and heir-apparent, was stricken by a fever. He was brought immediately to Babur’s court at Agra, but despite the best efforts of the royal physicians, his condition steadily worsened. Driven to despair, Babur consulted a man of religion who told him that the remedy "was to give in alms the most valuable thing one had and to seek cure from God."
Babur is said to have replied thus: "I am the most valuable thing that Humayun possesses; than me he has no better thing; I shall make myself a sacrifice for him. May God the Creator accept it." Greatly distressed, Babur’s courtiers and friends tried to explain that the sage had meant that he should give away money, or gold or a piece of property: Humayun possessed a priceless diamond, they said, which could be sold and the proceeds given to the poor...
Babur would not hear of it. "What value has worldly wealth?" Babur is quoted to have said. "And how can it be a redemption for Humayun? I myself shall be his sacrifice." He walked three times around Humayun’s bed, praying: "O God! If a life may be exchanged for a life, I who am Babur, I give my life and my being for a Humayun." A few minutes later, he cried: "We have borne it away, we have borne it away."
And sure enough, from that moment Babur began to sicken, while Humayun grew slowly well. Babur died near Agra on December 21, 1530. He left orders for his body to be buried in Kabul.”
Baburnama is a fascinating glimpse into the mind of a medieval warrior and emperor, especially for those with interest in Indian history, but parts of it is also a challenging read for the general reader. As E.M. Forster observed, the greatest difficulty in reading it is not caused by the language (which had been translated into modern, even colloquial English), but is caused by the seemingly relentless onslaught of unfamiliar names of people and places.
Born as a minor prince in what is now Uzbekistan, Babur is a scion of the Timurids, a dynasty established by Tamerlane, which had ruled over much of Central Asia since the 14th century. The Timurid princes were constantly engaged in territorial battles, and from his early teens, Babur had been embroiled in the complex, ever shifting intrigues between his blood relatives. More than once he had succeeded in holding and losing Samarkand, and on several occasions, desperately holding on to his life after being defeated by stronger rivals. Necessity turned him toward the north, to Afghanistan, which he conquered at the age of 23. Several years later, he made his first foray into Hindustan, a much larger and wealthier realm that he finally conquered more than two decades later. He famously loathed his new realm, complaining about its heat and dust, pining for his beloved Kabul, where he was eventually buried. A man of lively curiosity, he wrote about the flora and fauna of India, its landscapes and rivers, and of its native princes and their palaces and temples. He destroyed naked idols that offended his Muslim sensibility, and allegedly built a mosque in Ayodhya, which later became a bone of contention between Muslims and Hindu extremists (who believed that the mosque stood on the birthplace of Rama, an avatar of Vishnu).
He died at the age of 47, not long after conquering India. The following is Amitav Ghosh’s retelling of the legend of Babur’s death.
“Of the many stories told of Babur none is more wonderful than that of his death. In 1530 Humayun, Babur’s beloved eldest son and heir-apparent, was stricken by a fever. He was brought immediately to Babur’s court at Agra, but despite the best efforts of the royal physicians, his condition steadily worsened. Driven to despair, Babur consulted a man of religion who told him that the remedy "was to give in alms the most valuable thing one had and to seek cure from God."
Babur is said to have replied thus: "I am the most valuable thing that Humayun possesses; than me he has no better thing; I shall make myself a sacrifice for him. May God the Creator accept it." Greatly distressed, Babur’s courtiers and friends tried to explain that the sage had meant that he should give away money, or gold or a piece of property: Humayun possessed a priceless diamond, they said, which could be sold and the proceeds given to the poor...
Babur would not hear of it. "What value has worldly wealth?" Babur is quoted to have said. "And how can it be a redemption for Humayun? I myself shall be his sacrifice." He walked three times around Humayun’s bed, praying: "O God! If a life may be exchanged for a life, I who am Babur, I give my life and my being for a Humayun." A few minutes later, he cried: "We have borne it away, we have borne it away."
And sure enough, from that moment Babur began to sicken, while Humayun grew slowly well. Babur died near Agra on December 21, 1530. He left orders for his body to be buried in Kabul.”
Baburnama is a fascinating glimpse into the mind of a medieval warrior and emperor, especially for those with interest in Indian history, but parts of it is also a challenging read for the general reader. As E.M. Forster observed, the greatest difficulty in reading it is not caused by the language (which had been translated into modern, even colloquial English), but is caused by the seemingly relentless onslaught of unfamiliar names of people and places.
March 18, 2014
Babur, founder of the Mughal Empire, is one of the most influential figures in medieval history. This journal reveals deep insights into his experiences, and his values. He could be brutal and forgiving. He could be poetic, and base. He could abstain from wine, and throw tremendous and wild celebrations. In short, his is an interesting life.
Within the journal itself, there are many revealing points. At various points, Babur can be quite poetic in his descriptions. Providing a quick biography of Abu Said Mirza, he writes, “He was very generous. He was affable, eloquent and sweet-spoken, and bold. Outdistancing all his warriors, he got to work with his own sword twice—at the Gate of Akhsi and at the Gate of Shahrukhiya. A mediocre archer, he was strong in the fist—not a man but fell to his blow. Due to his ambition, peace was exchanged often for war, friendliness for hostility.” (10) A lovelier description of an agitator I cannot conceive.
Babur also clearly valued poetry and language. He quotes extensively throughout his journal. A favorite quotation of mine comes when he describes the Samarkandis and their disposition after the transition from Sultan Ahmad Mirza to His Highness the Khwaja Ahrari:
“Beware the build-up of an inward wound,
For it will at last burst forth;
Avoid, while you can, distress to one heart,
For a single moan can quake the Earth.” (Gulistan, Part 1, Story 27)
The journal is littered with such quotations, as well as what I can only assume are his own inventions. Babur clearly valued wisdom and language.
After the surrender of Samarkand and his escape to Dizak, he writes,” I have been transported five times from toil to rest and from hardship to comfort. This was the first.” (81) Indeed, the interesting part, for me, regarding Babur’s establishment of the Mughal empire was the circuitous route that it took. I had always had the impression that he swept through territories in a mass of victories, but this could not be further from the truth. Multiple times Babur was reduced to almost nothing, and yet he kept returning.
Babur always comments on the fruits and other agricultural qualities of the area. Strange to us today, he praises the quality of the fruits in Kabul, and the wines that can be found there.
Ultimately, Babur’s philosophy over the territories that he conquered can be summed up by this verse he writes in his journal on the Domain of Kabul, “Where one submits like a subject, treat him well; But he who submits not, strike, strip, crush and force like hell.” (218) This is an incredibly interesting journal, and it tells a story that I think would surprise most readers.
Within the journal itself, there are many revealing points. At various points, Babur can be quite poetic in his descriptions. Providing a quick biography of Abu Said Mirza, he writes, “He was very generous. He was affable, eloquent and sweet-spoken, and bold. Outdistancing all his warriors, he got to work with his own sword twice—at the Gate of Akhsi and at the Gate of Shahrukhiya. A mediocre archer, he was strong in the fist—not a man but fell to his blow. Due to his ambition, peace was exchanged often for war, friendliness for hostility.” (10) A lovelier description of an agitator I cannot conceive.
Babur also clearly valued poetry and language. He quotes extensively throughout his journal. A favorite quotation of mine comes when he describes the Samarkandis and their disposition after the transition from Sultan Ahmad Mirza to His Highness the Khwaja Ahrari:
“Beware the build-up of an inward wound,
For it will at last burst forth;
Avoid, while you can, distress to one heart,
For a single moan can quake the Earth.” (Gulistan, Part 1, Story 27)
The journal is littered with such quotations, as well as what I can only assume are his own inventions. Babur clearly valued wisdom and language.
After the surrender of Samarkand and his escape to Dizak, he writes,” I have been transported five times from toil to rest and from hardship to comfort. This was the first.” (81) Indeed, the interesting part, for me, regarding Babur’s establishment of the Mughal empire was the circuitous route that it took. I had always had the impression that he swept through territories in a mass of victories, but this could not be further from the truth. Multiple times Babur was reduced to almost nothing, and yet he kept returning.
Babur always comments on the fruits and other agricultural qualities of the area. Strange to us today, he praises the quality of the fruits in Kabul, and the wines that can be found there.
Ultimately, Babur’s philosophy over the territories that he conquered can be summed up by this verse he writes in his journal on the Domain of Kabul, “Where one submits like a subject, treat him well; But he who submits not, strike, strip, crush and force like hell.” (218) This is an incredibly interesting journal, and it tells a story that I think would surprise most readers.
September 11, 2022
یہ کتاب پڑھ کر پتا چلتا ہے کہ مغل بھی برصغیر کی موجودہ مغرب زادہ مسلم اشرافیہ سے زیادہ مختلف نہیں تھے۔ ایک طرف شراب و شباب کے رسیا اور دوسری طرف نماز و روزے کے پاپند۔ ہماری نصابی کتب میں پیش کی جانے والی مغل تاریخ کے برعکس بابر نے اپنی آپ بیتی میں بے حد صاف گوئی سے کام لیا ہے۔ ایک بات جو مغلوں کو انکے ہم عصر حکمرانوں سے ممتاز بناتی ہے وہ انکی سوانح عمری لکھنے یا لکھوانے کی عادت تھی۔ اس کتاب کو دنیا کی چند ایماندارانہ ترین آپ بتیوں میں شمار کیا جاتا ہے۔ مثال کے طور پر بابر خود اپنے اور بابری نامی لڑکے کے درمیان ہم جنس پرستی کا ذکر کرتے ہوئے لکھتا ہے ：
"اسی دوران مجھے بازار کے ایک خوبصورت لڑکے بابری نامی سے عشق ہوا، لیکن یہ عشق کچھ عجیب طرح کا تھا۔ جونہی بابری میرے سامنے آتا میں اسکی طرف آنکھ اٹھا کربھی نہ دیکھ پاتا۔ ایک دن میں اپنے خدام کے ساتھ گلی سے گزر رہاتھا کہ بابری اور مجھ میں مڈبھیڑ ہوگئی۔ لیکن میری حالت عجیب تھی۔ میں بری طرح جینپا اور بڑی سخت گھبراہٹ کے ساتھ آگے بڑھ گیا۔ مگر عشق نے دل و دماغ کو بری طرح سے اپنے چنگل میں لے لیا تھا۔ ننگے پاؤں اور ننگے سر کبھی باغوں میں گھومتا پھرتا اور کبھی پہاڑوں میں۔۔۔۔۔“
"اسی دوران مجھے بازار کے ایک خوبصورت لڑکے بابری نامی سے عشق ہوا، لیکن یہ عشق کچھ عجیب طرح کا تھا۔ جونہی بابری میرے سامنے آتا میں اسکی طرف آنکھ اٹھا کربھی نہ دیکھ پاتا۔ ایک دن میں اپنے خدام کے ساتھ گلی سے گزر رہاتھا کہ بابری اور مجھ میں مڈبھیڑ ہوگئی۔ لیکن میری حالت عجیب تھی۔ میں بری طرح جینپا اور بڑی سخت گھبراہٹ کے ساتھ آگے بڑھ گیا۔ مگر عشق نے دل و دماغ کو بری طرح سے اپنے چنگل میں لے لیا تھا۔ ننگے پاؤں اور ننگے سر کبھی باغوں میں گھومتا پھرتا اور کبھی پہاڑوں میں۔۔۔۔۔“
March 31, 2019
Our impressions of the lives of emperors and royalty is deeply influenced by television and movie portrayals. When one reads this book, the first thing that strikes you is the surprisingly simple and sparse lives they led. Their concerns were also quite mundane. Babur's journal is candid (including his fondness for maajun or opioid candy, and other weak moments in his life) almost totally devoid of any delusions of grandeur. His eye for detail and observations of flora and fauna, besides the lifestyle and habits of people in this strange, new land of Hindustan are quite fascinating. He comes across as quite an endearing character, in spite of the frequent and savage wars and retributions exacted from enemies! And yes, there is no mention of construction of Babri Masjid!!!
July 31, 2020
This is a real life game of thrones... Told from the first hand perspective of a man who would go from being a small chieftain of a tribe to the founder of one of the greatest dynasties in the last thousand years - the intrigue, compromises, change of fortunes make up for excellent reading - there is enough material here for dozens of movies and TV series
It's also remarkable and unique in the sense that it's a first hand perspective, unlike anything else ever found in recorded history and is very frank and honest - from my perspective I enjoyed reading even the intricate details of all his acquaintances and the flora and fauna and demography of all the places he visit, truly unique and insightful
It's also remarkable and unique in the sense that it's a first hand perspective, unlike anything else ever found in recorded history and is very frank and honest - from my perspective I enjoyed reading even the intricate details of all his acquaintances and the flora and fauna and demography of all the places he visit, truly unique and insightful
May 10, 2015
This book will take you back in time and make you wanna quit your day job and travel to central asia from samarkand to dilli . Truman said : In reading the lives of great men, I found that the first victory they won was over themselves... self-discipline with all of them came first. This book is for anyone who is interested in a great adventure,which this book is nothing short of , the life of Babur the founder of mughal empire his struggles. A very good read indeed.
December 28, 2020
What an incredible read, Babur's impact on India is unquestionable and the nonchalance with which he outlines his incredible ambition and campaigns really speak to his strength as a leader. I found myself trying to slow down and savour every detail outlined in this book.
Read
May 3, 2024تزک بابری میں قصہ ہے بابر کا
معجون کا اور شرابوں کا
سلطنت دہلی کے مہرابوں کا
باغ، گلابوں اور کھا بو کا
تیموری نسل اور ہند کے نوابوں کا
تخت دہلی کےخوابوں کا
ابراہیم لودھی کے ارادوں کا
محلاتی سازشوں کا
معجون کا اور شرابوں کا
سلطنت دہلی کے مہرابوں کا
باغ، گلابوں اور کھا بو کا
تیموری نسل اور ہند کے نوابوں کا
تخت دہلی کےخوابوں کا
ابراہیم لودھی کے ارادوں کا
محلاتی سازشوں کا
June 11, 2025
Time hangs heavily over “The Babur Nama,” the half-finished memoirs and diary entries of Babur, founder of India’s Mughal Empire. I’m not sure Americans like me naturally comprehend just how heavily time hangs over nations with roots that vanish into myth and legend. After all, the oldest building in my town was built in 1869. By that time, India was on its seventh or eighth great empire.
Here’s another angle. By the time a handful of Englishmen straggled ashore in North America to build Jamestown, Babur’s great-grandson Jahangir ruled an Indian domain that produced nearly a quarter of the world’s economic output. Europe was just the butt end of Asia, and the Americas were barely known to anyone but its own tribes. We of the modern Euro-Atlantic are accustomed to thinking ourselves natural masters of the world, and this is foolish; but such is the prerogative of the young.
Ironically, Babur himself hailed from a world once ascendant and today a backwater. The first of the three sections of his memoirs recounts his youth in the Fergana Valley of Central Asia, where his father governed along the Silk Road as one descendant of the Turkic conqueror Timur. This region had fallen 300 years before to the Mongols; and one of Genghis Khan’s legacies was a line of descendants that included Babur’s mother.
Babur, as the scion of two world conquerors, knew a homeland in its twilight renaissance before European sea power nullified its value as a trade route. A welter of Turkic shaiks, Mongol khans, and nomadic clans all vied for control of a river of wealth they had no way of knowing was about to dry up forever. I quickly gave up attempts to keep track of friends, enemies, and frenemies who were very distinct to Babur but to me are just a bunch of names that all look the same.
Consider that a warning if you’re tempted to pick up “The Babur Nama.” He’s an admirably clear, observant, efficient, and honest writer, which is one reason his memoirs are still read today. He has no illusions about himself or anyone else, and is the straightest of straight arrows. But that doesn’t mean his memoirs are easy or even consistently interesting. Babur, writing from his pinnacle of triumph in India, intended to bequeath a comprehensive accounting of his works — and that’s exactly what he did.
I most enjoyed the second section recounting his stint in Afghanistan. After his father died in a freak accident, the teenaged Babur lost his heritage to expanding Uzbeks. After a period of vagrancy, he and his band of retainers retreated into Afghanistan and seized Kabul in a bloodless coup. He spent the rest of his life angling to regain his homeland, but it remains today within the borders of modern Uzbekistan.
The Afghan years were lean, but spent in places legendary to early 21st-century Americans: Kabul, Kandahar, Herat. Then as now, this rugged land supported independent tribes with little interest in your geopolitical ambitions, but plenty of interest in what they could get from you, whether by cooperation or theft. With little to do but patrol valleys and raid sheepherding warrior nomads, it’s no wonder Babur started drinking, a terrible sin for a Muslim which he confesses frequently with touching honesty and which he finally managed to quit in India.
The final section of the “The Babur Nama” covers his conquest of northern India and is the most fragmentary. Babur died after a brief illness in 1530, just 47 years old, his memoirs unfinished, his thoughts on India preserved in the form of diary entries and drafts. He held a low opinion of the place as a land of unpleasant climate and idolaters, valuable solely for the vast wealth he could exploit to build his power base in Kabul and support the reconquest of his homeland — which he never did.
Though I’m sure Babur would’ve preferred to see his dreams realized, I also think he would’ve appreciated the ironies that time brought upon his empire. Those bedraggled Englishmen chopping down trees on the other side of the world represented an island that would one day turn his descendants into puppets, but this is how time’s wheel turns. He learned as a young fugitive the impermanence of it all: “If a man live a hundred or a thousand years, at the last nothing.” He frequently shakes his head at men who sell their souls for the sake of “this five-day’s life.”
In fact, I would say that taking the long view is what made Babur a successful warlord despite his setbacks. He stayed on task and earned whatever passes for loyalty in savage times as a man who wanted not to live in luxury and die in dissipation, but to be remembered well: “Better than life with a bad name, is death with a good one.” He governed himself by the maxim that “In this world acts…outlive the man…in the honorable mention of their names, wise men find a second life!”
Nothing sums up Babur’s character better than the fact that he saw an inscription as a young man and was still thinking about it decades later: “Many men like us have taken breath at this fountain / And have passed away in the twinkling of an eye / We took the world by courage and might / But we took it not with us to the tomb.” He understood more than most that nothing lasts, and that despite all our sound and fury we really control just two things: what we do today, and the memories we leave to those who knew us.
Here’s another angle. By the time a handful of Englishmen straggled ashore in North America to build Jamestown, Babur’s great-grandson Jahangir ruled an Indian domain that produced nearly a quarter of the world’s economic output. Europe was just the butt end of Asia, and the Americas were barely known to anyone but its own tribes. We of the modern Euro-Atlantic are accustomed to thinking ourselves natural masters of the world, and this is foolish; but such is the prerogative of the young.
Ironically, Babur himself hailed from a world once ascendant and today a backwater. The first of the three sections of his memoirs recounts his youth in the Fergana Valley of Central Asia, where his father governed along the Silk Road as one descendant of the Turkic conqueror Timur. This region had fallen 300 years before to the Mongols; and one of Genghis Khan’s legacies was a line of descendants that included Babur’s mother.
Babur, as the scion of two world conquerors, knew a homeland in its twilight renaissance before European sea power nullified its value as a trade route. A welter of Turkic shaiks, Mongol khans, and nomadic clans all vied for control of a river of wealth they had no way of knowing was about to dry up forever. I quickly gave up attempts to keep track of friends, enemies, and frenemies who were very distinct to Babur but to me are just a bunch of names that all look the same.
Consider that a warning if you’re tempted to pick up “The Babur Nama.” He’s an admirably clear, observant, efficient, and honest writer, which is one reason his memoirs are still read today. He has no illusions about himself or anyone else, and is the straightest of straight arrows. But that doesn’t mean his memoirs are easy or even consistently interesting. Babur, writing from his pinnacle of triumph in India, intended to bequeath a comprehensive accounting of his works — and that’s exactly what he did.
I most enjoyed the second section recounting his stint in Afghanistan. After his father died in a freak accident, the teenaged Babur lost his heritage to expanding Uzbeks. After a period of vagrancy, he and his band of retainers retreated into Afghanistan and seized Kabul in a bloodless coup. He spent the rest of his life angling to regain his homeland, but it remains today within the borders of modern Uzbekistan.
The Afghan years were lean, but spent in places legendary to early 21st-century Americans: Kabul, Kandahar, Herat. Then as now, this rugged land supported independent tribes with little interest in your geopolitical ambitions, but plenty of interest in what they could get from you, whether by cooperation or theft. With little to do but patrol valleys and raid sheepherding warrior nomads, it’s no wonder Babur started drinking, a terrible sin for a Muslim which he confesses frequently with touching honesty and which he finally managed to quit in India.
The final section of the “The Babur Nama” covers his conquest of northern India and is the most fragmentary. Babur died after a brief illness in 1530, just 47 years old, his memoirs unfinished, his thoughts on India preserved in the form of diary entries and drafts. He held a low opinion of the place as a land of unpleasant climate and idolaters, valuable solely for the vast wealth he could exploit to build his power base in Kabul and support the reconquest of his homeland — which he never did.
Though I’m sure Babur would’ve preferred to see his dreams realized, I also think he would’ve appreciated the ironies that time brought upon his empire. Those bedraggled Englishmen chopping down trees on the other side of the world represented an island that would one day turn his descendants into puppets, but this is how time’s wheel turns. He learned as a young fugitive the impermanence of it all: “If a man live a hundred or a thousand years, at the last nothing.” He frequently shakes his head at men who sell their souls for the sake of “this five-day’s life.”
In fact, I would say that taking the long view is what made Babur a successful warlord despite his setbacks. He stayed on task and earned whatever passes for loyalty in savage times as a man who wanted not to live in luxury and die in dissipation, but to be remembered well: “Better than life with a bad name, is death with a good one.” He governed himself by the maxim that “In this world acts…outlive the man…in the honorable mention of their names, wise men find a second life!”
Nothing sums up Babur’s character better than the fact that he saw an inscription as a young man and was still thinking about it decades later: “Many men like us have taken breath at this fountain / And have passed away in the twinkling of an eye / We took the world by courage and might / But we took it not with us to the tomb.” He understood more than most that nothing lasts, and that despite all our sound and fury we really control just two things: what we do today, and the memories we leave to those who knew us.
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March 19, 2015An appreciation by Amitav Ghosh: http://www.amitavghosh.com/essays/lov...
March 6, 2021
Well, I did it again1. When I consulted my reading list to pick a new book to read after finishing Meditations With Cows, instead of picking a new or well-known or at least commonly approachable book2 that people actually would search for3 and by extension perhaps find my site4, I picked another ancient text5 that only a few people have heard of and fewer decide to read. Let it never be said that I am a slave to the search engine algorithms6. That being said, it does continue my tour of historic pieces of world literature (we recently reviewed The Bhagavad Gita, and The Story of Burnt Njal, checking off (roughly) India and Iceland, plus the Middle East7 with the Babur-Nama), and I have legitimately been interested in reading this for awhile, it being one of the few historical autobiographies from that region of the world. In truth, doing a sort of world-tour of ancient literature is proving a very fascinating exercise, and one that I would wholly recommend (as long as you have some patience8).
The Babur-Nama is part memoir and part diary9 of Babur, who came from the region modernly known as the Middle East around the year 1500 CE10. It chronicles much of his life, and as such is a fascinating insight into the mindset of a ruler of that time and region11, as well as the peoples and cultures that populate the pages. If you have some knowledge of the modern Middle East, this text will give you a lot of insight into how some of those situations came to be, and from whom the modern peoples are descended from and what those ancestors were like. Some knowledge of the modern Middle East will also help you keep track of and contextualize the place names, many of which have lasted into the present in some form or another.
Although geographically much of the story's action centers around Kabul, the focus is mostly on Hindustan (which is a region that seems to compose most of the northwestern parts of modern Pakistan and India). Five times Babur made expeditions into Hindustan before finally conquering it12. He also has to take and retake Kabul several times, takes and loses Samarkand on various occasions, fights repeatedly over modern Kandahar province, defends a region called Farghana13, and wages various campaigns with and against a multitude of Afghan tribes. Yet for all that fighting, some of it detailed quite thoroughly (like in The Story of Burnt Njal, there are some very oddly minute moments, like once when someone's index finger is smote off), what keeps this book interesting (and it really was interesting, at least to me) is just how unique and different14 the view that is presented is from most anything with which I was previously familiar. I hate to call it world-building, or compare it to invented cultures in alternative world fantasy, because that seems rather derogatory towards these real-life cultures, but truly this real-world tale felt at times far more unique and alien than a science fiction novel with a non-human viewpoint, and in the most fascinating ways (it also had far, far less pronounceable names).
It is a masterclass in immersive15 "world-building," because to Babur there was nothing alien or out of the ordinary about chopping someone to pieces16 if they did something wrong, mustering an army to go conquer some new lands, having multiple wives, or being completely assured of your divine right to suzerainty, and so he simply reports these things as matter-of-factually as he reports when he happens to "eat a confection17." Actually, he probably makes a bigger deal about deciding to eat a confection than he does about deciding to chop off someone's head. I think this is what really makes it so fascinating. Since part of it is written as a memoir (this part can be quite slow at times, but is still interesting), and part as a diary, we sometimes get detailed, day-by-day insight into Babur's thoughts and actions as he goes about his daily life. Like anyone today who keeps a diary, some days are shorter than others - there is one entry on which he simply says he dismounted in such and such a place and "had a violent discharge18." Before you judge a man for what he wrote five hundred years ago, think how you may be judged five hundred years from now for what you posted on social media19. The internet is forever...
For as fascinating as I did find it, it was not an easy piece to read. First of all, it has a lot of footnotes20. Almost three thousand of them, in fact. Some of the footnotes were referencing other notes, or the appendices (of which there are also many21), or completely different books. Some of the footnotes were in different languages, with no English translation. Even some of the footnotes had footnotes. I found that I was spending so much time flipping back and forth that I wasn't gleaning anything from the text - my progress got much smoother and more engaging when I started reading blocks of twenty footnotes at a time22, switching back to the text until I'd read through those twenty footnotes, and then reading the next twenty footnotes, going back to the text, and so on. However, I would not recommend skipping the footnotes, as a fair number of them offer useful information23 or insights into the context of the diary, or the choices of the translator. By the way, as usual, my standard translation disclaimer applies here: I did no special research into what translations of the Babur-Nama are best, but I did learn a great deal about the translation process and the differences that can arise between translations from...the footnotes24. There is in fact more supplemental material than there is actual text, by a ratio of almost 2:1.
The second challenge to reading this book is how disjointed it can be, because there is often little context for a modern reader25. Plus, there are apparently large gaps where text has been lost, destroyed, or was never written (Babur apparently died before he could finish the memoir, and did not always keep his diary26). Had the translator not provided bridges for these gaps, explaining what historians think may have been happening during those times and helping set up the next batch of translated text, I would have become completely lost. As it was, it could still be jarring, because in some cases historians simply don't know what Babur was doing for extended periods of time.
Keeping track of all of the names and places and relationships27 and cultural norms and historical contexts could also get confusing at times, but I read The Wheel of Time, which has over two thousand named characters, so I think I was well-prepared to handle that part. Aside from insight into history and culture, this also gave insight into the Muslim religion and its various denominations28, which to me has always seemed the most distinct of the Abrahamic faiths. Particularly notable are the ways in which Babur's faith influences his interactions with those not of the same faith, and the varying degrees and ways in which people who do share the faith follow its precepts and Laws29.
I took awhile to get through this book30, which is okay because I'm still well ahead in my book reviews31, but I genuinely am glad that I took the time to read it, because I really do think I learned a great deal and gained many new insights from making my way through it. So yes, while this is a difficult read, I do recommend that you consider reading the Babur-Nama soon32.
[1] This is a sample of a footnote. You will find them throughout this post, just like the nearly three thousand of them that populate the pages of the Babur Nama
[2] Like, for instance, Rhythm of War, although I suppose there's an argument to be made that a 1400 page epic fantasy that is the fourth book in a series is not entirely "approachable"
[3] By search, I here refer to the ability of people in the early 21st century to input text into a tool called a search engine and be then provided with results
[4] IGCPublishing.com
[5] Whether the Babur Nama counts as ancient could also be a matter of debate, since it's only about five hundred years old
[6] This is, of course, a literary device to express a tendency to make choices based on what will be most likely to boost a site's ranking in the mysterious search engine results (see [3])
[7] I say the Middle East, but a significant amount of the book also takes place in India
[8] Like the patience to read nearly three thousand footnotes
[9] The earliest parts are what Babur completed as an intentional memoir before he died, while the parts describing the rest of his life are diary entries that it is supposed he intended to eventually convert into memoir form. The diary entries are actually much more interesting and less ponderous than the memoir portions
[10] The book gives dates in AD, which have in turn been translated from a system called AH, in which Babur originally wrote
[11] For instance, the idea, very foreign to a modern American audience, that some people are born with the right to rule, and others are not
[12] Well, sort of. He hadn't entirely brought it under control by the time he died, and his son apparently lost it, and so it had to be retaken later on by Emperor Akbar (no relation to the Admiral), who also has a memoir. I'm not sure I'll bother to read that one, too
[13] It is worth noting that all of the spellings I've included here are approximate, because I don't know how to include the variety of accent and modifying marks that the text itself uses through my site editor
[14] Phrases like "for the sake of this five-days fleeting world," and references to the "seven climes" are fantastic examples
[15] By this I mean the idea of not intentionally explaining the "alien" components of a world to the reader, but rather simply using the terms and ideas as if they were normal and letting the reader pick up on them by context
[16] Or flayed alive, or any number of other lovely punishments. It was not what you might call a rigorous criminal justice system. They also had a tendency to have approximately zero respect for the concept of private property
[17] Granted, there is some basis to suggest that these confections were laden with opium
[18] That's an actual diary entry in the book
[19] Posting every single day about what you had for dinner for all the world to see is probably even more egotistical than writing in your diary that you ate a confection. Just saying
[20] Kind of like this post
[21] A through V, I believe
[22] Sometimes more, depending on how densely packed they were
[23] Unlike this one
[24] Are you enjoying all of these footnotes yet?
[25] You know, I wonder about using the term "modern." If this is the modern age, when will we know we are in the age that comes next, and what will it be? It's like the question of what comes after the "Common Era." The Uncommon Era?
[26] Still, he kept it much more consistently than the handful of times that I've tried to start a diary, which has typically lasted for now more than four days
[27] In the memoir portions, Babur subjects his readers to extensive (and very judgmental) biographies of almost everyone who is ever mentioned. With how similar all of the names are, this can be very intimidating, but I found that, like in most books, if you just read along and remember the names that are repeated often you'll be able to follow the action well enough
[28] This book comes significantly after the major splits in the Islamic faith occurred, so does not go into those origins, but it does provide some insight into how those groups interacted, and continue to interact to this day - a grasp of these denomination differences is a key component of understanding the peoples, cultures, and situation of the modern Middle East
[29] For instance, it is against the Law to imbibe intoxicating beverages. Babur follows this law until he's almost thirty, then spends a decade going to wine parties and getting drunk seemingly every day (he mentions it often in his diary, alongside eating possibly opium-laden confections), and then has this big moment where he renounces alcohol and orders all of his wine glasses destroyed and the pieces given away
[30] About two and a half weeks
[31] I'm writing this one in early March, despite that it won't be posted until May
[32] Well, that's the last of the footnotes, and the end of the post. You may just find it confusing or annoying now, but once you have experienced the footnote extravaganza that is the Babur Nama, I think you will understand why including all of these footnotes in the review is amusing
May 16, 2025
Babur is undoubtedly one of the greatest autobiographers of the pre-modern world. In his nāma, we see the full complexity of a man who was forced to grow up at a tender age and lead his kinfolk on a conquest of a foreign land.
He is a man of open contradiction: he goes from drunkard to teetotaler to opium addict; from admirer of Hindu temple architecture to bigoted ghazi against infidels; from sensitive aesthete to brutal mass murderer; from keen and excited observer of a new land to painfully homesick.
Much credit goes to the translator for bringing these complexities to life in English from the original Chagatai Turki and Persian.
He is a man of open contradiction: he goes from drunkard to teetotaler to opium addict; from admirer of Hindu temple architecture to bigoted ghazi against infidels; from sensitive aesthete to brutal mass murderer; from keen and excited observer of a new land to painfully homesick.
Much credit goes to the translator for bringing these complexities to life in English from the original Chagatai Turki and Persian.
February 11, 2021
A review of the Beveridge translation, recently republished in hardcover by Everyman Library.
Avoid it, it's awful. If you pick it up pretty soon you'll have Indian "braves" and other "desperadoes" riding around in your head. That's because of the translator, who seems to think drawing an analogy between a Native American culture and 16th century central Asia is a good idea. It isn't, it's historically ignorant and distracting. It's also rather silly. E.M. Forster, in an essay published in the 1920s, likened Babur, and the world he lived in, to the world of the Renaissance Italy. Small principalities, avaricious strong men and Machiavellian politics. There's some merit to such a comparison, there's none for Beveridge's ignorant cultural leveling. "Pointiff" pops up, from time to time, as well...don't even ask. Lots of "corn" as well, even though the crop would not have been grown at the time anywhere other than the Americas. Such nonsense, and there's more, lots more, ruined the translation for me, as I lost confidence in the translator.
And then there's the footnotes! Which are bloated, meandering and usually of little to no use. If you're looking for guidance through the bewildering cultural mix of the place and time, don't look to Beveridge for any assistance. But, if you want to read about whether Babur hunted white tailed or white arsed deer, you're in luck. At times she actually refers to her husband [her words, not mine] as a source for her notes.
The formatting is visually awful, with several lines of text and lots of gaseous commentary. It's just plain ugly, in both look and content. Someone should have cleaned up the text, with, at the very least, a flame thrower taken to the moldy, suffocating footnotes.
Beveridge's creaky, stiff English, and it would have read as out of date when published, should be modernized, for instance, there's all sorts of weird hyphenated terms, which are nothing but an irritant and distraction. A detailed map, or maps, rather than the one provided, which is of little to no use, would be of great help as well.
All told this edition of Babur's memoirs is a cynical rip off. If you don't mind an ereader you can access it online for free anyhow [http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44608]. There's a reason this translation disappeared, that's what it deserves. E.L. has simply taken a text in the public domain, it was first published in 1920 [reads like it was 1820], and spruced it up with a new introduction.
A massive colonial belch, to be used as a door stopper, or to throw at small rodents, rather than something to actually read.
Avoid it, it's awful. If you pick it up pretty soon you'll have Indian "braves" and other "desperadoes" riding around in your head. That's because of the translator, who seems to think drawing an analogy between a Native American culture and 16th century central Asia is a good idea. It isn't, it's historically ignorant and distracting. It's also rather silly. E.M. Forster, in an essay published in the 1920s, likened Babur, and the world he lived in, to the world of the Renaissance Italy. Small principalities, avaricious strong men and Machiavellian politics. There's some merit to such a comparison, there's none for Beveridge's ignorant cultural leveling. "Pointiff" pops up, from time to time, as well...don't even ask. Lots of "corn" as well, even though the crop would not have been grown at the time anywhere other than the Americas. Such nonsense, and there's more, lots more, ruined the translation for me, as I lost confidence in the translator.
And then there's the footnotes! Which are bloated, meandering and usually of little to no use. If you're looking for guidance through the bewildering cultural mix of the place and time, don't look to Beveridge for any assistance. But, if you want to read about whether Babur hunted white tailed or white arsed deer, you're in luck. At times she actually refers to her husband [her words, not mine] as a source for her notes.
The formatting is visually awful, with several lines of text and lots of gaseous commentary. It's just plain ugly, in both look and content. Someone should have cleaned up the text, with, at the very least, a flame thrower taken to the moldy, suffocating footnotes.
Beveridge's creaky, stiff English, and it would have read as out of date when published, should be modernized, for instance, there's all sorts of weird hyphenated terms, which are nothing but an irritant and distraction. A detailed map, or maps, rather than the one provided, which is of little to no use, would be of great help as well.
All told this edition of Babur's memoirs is a cynical rip off. If you don't mind an ereader you can access it online for free anyhow [http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44608]. There's a reason this translation disappeared, that's what it deserves. E.L. has simply taken a text in the public domain, it was first published in 1920 [reads like it was 1820], and spruced it up with a new introduction.
A massive colonial belch, to be used as a door stopper, or to throw at small rodents, rather than something to actually read.
December 31, 2018
This is such a great translation. It traces the Turco-Persian origins of the Mughal dynasty, a sort of mirror-for-princes. The chronology aspects of the text can be a bit tiring (a lot of battles and assertion of his own legitimacy during a time when it was in question), but you get a great deal of insight into Persian kingship and the use of Persian poetry as a courtly expression of emotions.
October 26, 2021
"It shouldn't be a surprise that he never considered his bloodshed as excessive or criminal. To expect him to do so would mean imposing 21st century values and ideas on a 15th century man"
Cant put it any better.
Cant put it any better.
Read
March 8, 2022Thoughts on Part 1: https://youtu.be/JxHSQTyjiMg
October 6, 2019
হিজরি ৮৯৯, রমজান মাসে যখন আমার বয়স বারো বছর ছিল, তখন আমি ফারগানা দেশের শাসক পদ লাভ করি। ফারগানা একটি ছোট দেশ। এখানে প্রচুর পরিমাণে আনাজ ও ফলমূল উৎপন্ন হয়। বাবরনামাতে বাবর এভাবেই শুরু করেন। বাবরের পিতা ছিলেন ফারগানার আমির। যেটা বর্তমানে উজবেকিস্থানে অবস্থিত। মাত্র ১২ বছর বয়সে বাবর শাসক হন। কিন্তু সিংহাসনচুত্য হয়ে যাযাবরের মতন ঘুরে বেড়ান। বাবর নামাতে বাবর লিখেছেন 'এসময় টা আমার জন্য এক কঠিন সময় ছিল।'
বাবরের জন্ম আন্দিজান শহরে। আন্দিজানের প্রাকৃতিক ও ঐতিহাসিক বর্ণনা দিয়েছেন। সেই সাথে সমরখন্দ ও বুখরার প্রসঙ্গও এসেছে। তিনি লিখেছেন এখানে সবাই ফার্সি ভাষা ব্যাবহার করে। সমরখন্দে একটা পাথরের কথা বলেছেন, যেটাতে সবকিছুই আয়নার মতই প্রতিফলিত হয়। বাবর ফারগানা রাজ্যের বর্ণনার পাশাপাশি তার পূর্বপুরুষদের বর্ণনাও দিয়েছেন। আলংকারিক ভাষায় তার পিতার মৃত্যুর কথাও বলেছেন-'সোমবারের দিনে রমজান মাসে উমর শেখ মির্জা তাঁর সমস্ত কবুতর উড়িয়ে দিলেন এবং নিজে বাজ হয়ে গেলেন।
বাবরের হাত থেকে যখন সমরখন্দ ও ফারগানা হাতছাড়া হয়ে যায়, তখন তিনি বলেছেন- আমার হাত থেকে সমরখন্দ বেরিয়ে গেল এবং ফারগানাও। আমার জানা ছিল না কোথায় যাচ্ছি আমি, কোথায় আমার মনজিল। বাবর এরপরে পর্বতের ভয়ংকর যাত্রার কথা বলেছেন, যেখানে একটুখানি পা ফসকে গেলে কোথায় যে হারিয়ে যাবে তার ঠিকানা নেই।
বাবর কাবুল জয় করার পর, কাবুলের বর্ণনা দিয়েছেন- 'কাবুল চার ঋতুর দেশ, এখানকার ভূমি উর্বর। এখানে শীত ও গ্রীষ্মকালে ফলমূল নগর বসতির কাছেই পাওয়া যায়। শীতকালের প্রধান ফল, আঙুর, আনার, নাসপাতি, আপেল, গুলদার, আলুচা ফল। এখানে পাহাড়ি এলাকায় প্রচুর মধু পাওয়া যায়। এভাবেই সুন্দর ভাবে কাবুলের প্রচুর বিবরণ তুলে ধরেছেন।
এরপর ইব্রাহীম লোদীর সাথে যুদ্ধ, রানা সাঙ্গার সাথে যুদ্ধ। সেসময় বাবর প্রতিজ্ঞা করেছিলেন, আর কোনদিন সরাব স্পর্শ করবেন না, সরাবের পেয়ালাগুলো ভেঙ্গে ফেলেন। বাবরনামায় বাবর তার ভালো-মন্দ, ভূল-ত্রুটি, তার জীবনের খুঁটিনাটি, দোষগুণ, বিজ্ঞতা ও মূর্খতা তদানীন্তন ভারতের সামাজিক ও রাজনৈতিক প্রতিষ্ঠান সম্পর্কে সবিস্তারে বর্ণনা করেছেন।
এই বইতে শুধুমাত্র আমরা বাবরের ব্যক্তিগত জীবনের নানা ঘটনাবলীর বাইরেও তিনি যেসব অঞ্চলে বাস করেছেন বা নানা সময়ে ভ্রমণ করেছেন, সেই সব অঞ্চলের ইতিহাস ও ভূগোল সম্পর্কেও অনেক কিছুই জানতে পারি। এছাড়াও তাঁর পরিচিত মানুষদের সম্পর্কেও খুব সুন্দর ও জীবন্ত বিবরণ এই বই'এর এক অন্যতম বৈশিষ্ট্য। ফলে সে সময়ের ইতিহাস জানার একটা অনবদ্য বই এটা।
মন্তব্যঃ বিশ্বসাহিত্যে 'বাবরনামা' একটি উল্লেখযোগ্য রচনা। অন্যতম শ্রেষ্ঠ বই হিসেবে বিবেচিত হয়। আকবরের শাসনকালে বৈরাম খানের পুত্র রহিম খানকে দায়িত্ব দেওয়া হয় ফার্সি ভাষায় অনুবাদ করতে।পরবর্তিতে ইংরেজিতে অনুদিত হয়। নিজের সমালোচনা সবাই করতে পারেনা, করলেও হয়তো সবটুকু পারেন না।
বাবরের প্রধান শত্রু ছিল, শায়বানি খান। বাবরকে সিংহাসনচুত্য করেন তিনি এবং জোর করে তার বোন খানজাদাকে বিয়ে করেন। আসলে বাবর সহ অন্যান্যদের জীবন রক্ষার্তে খানজাদাকে শায়বানি খানের সাথে বিবাহ দেওয়া হয়। বাবরনামাতে এই কথাটা বাবর সেভাবে বলেননি। কিংবা বলতে পারেন নাই, জমাটবাধা কষ্টের কারনে। অনেকটা পাশ কাটিয়ে চলে গেছেন। এতটুকু ত্রুটি বাদ দিলে, এক অসাধারন একটি বই এটা।
আল-সুলতান আল-আজম ওয়াল খাকান আল কুকারাম পাদশাহ গাজী জহির উদ্দিন মুহাম্মদ জালাল উদ্দিন বাবর রচিত 'তুযক-ই-বাবরি' বইটা পড়ে দেখতে পারেন। একটি তথ্য- বর্তমানে মধ্য, পশ্চিম ও দক্ষিণ এশিয়ার অন্তত ২৫টি দেশে এই বইটি বা তার কিছু অংশ স্কুলস্তরে পাঠ্য হিসেবে ব্যবহৃত হয়।
বাবরের জন্ম আন্দিজান শহরে। আন্দিজানের প্রাকৃতিক ও ঐতিহাসিক বর্ণনা দিয়েছেন। সেই সাথে সমরখন্দ ও বুখরার প্রসঙ্গও এসেছে। তিনি লিখেছেন এখানে সবাই ফার্সি ভাষা ব্যাবহার করে। সমরখন্দে একটা পাথরের কথা বলেছেন, যেটাতে সবকিছুই আয়নার মতই প্রতিফলিত হয়। বাবর ফারগানা রাজ্যের বর্ণনার পাশাপাশি তার পূর্বপুরুষদের বর্ণনাও দিয়েছেন। আলংকারিক ভাষায় তার পিতার মৃত্যুর কথাও বলেছেন-'সোমবারের দিনে রমজান মাসে উমর শেখ মির্জা তাঁর সমস্ত কবুতর উড়িয়ে দিলেন এবং নিজে বাজ হয়ে গেলেন।
বাবরের হাত থেকে যখন সমরখন্দ ও ফারগানা হাতছাড়া হয়ে যায়, তখন তিনি বলেছেন- আমার হাত থেকে সমরখন্দ বেরিয়ে গেল এবং ফারগানাও। আমার জানা ছিল না কোথায় যাচ্ছি আমি, কোথায় আমার মনজিল। বাবর এরপরে পর্বতের ভয়ংকর যাত্রার কথা বলেছেন, যেখানে একটুখানি পা ফসকে গেলে কোথায় যে হারিয়ে যাবে তার ঠিকানা নেই।
বাবর কাবুল জয় করার পর, কাবুলের বর্ণনা দিয়েছেন- 'কাবুল চার ঋতুর দেশ, এখানকার ভূমি উর্বর। এখানে শীত ও গ্রীষ্মকালে ফলমূল নগর বসতির কাছেই পাওয়া যায়। শীতকালের প্রধান ফল, আঙুর, আনার, নাসপাতি, আপেল, গুলদার, আলুচা ফল। এখানে পাহাড়ি এলাকায় প্রচুর মধু পাওয়া যায়। এভাবেই সুন্দর ভাবে কাবুলের প্রচুর বিবরণ তুলে ধরেছেন।
এরপর ইব্রাহীম লোদীর সাথে যুদ্ধ, রানা সাঙ্গার সাথে যুদ্ধ। সেসময় বাবর প্রতিজ্ঞা করেছিলেন, আর কোনদিন সরাব স্পর্শ করবেন না, সরাবের পেয়ালাগুলো ভেঙ্গে ফেলেন। বাবরনামায় বাবর তার ভালো-মন্দ, ভূল-ত্রুটি, তার জীবনের খুঁটিনাটি, দোষগুণ, বিজ্ঞতা ও মূর্খতা তদানীন্তন ভারতের সামাজিক ও রাজনৈতিক প্রতিষ্ঠান সম্পর্কে সবিস্তারে বর্ণনা করেছেন।
এই বইতে শুধুমাত্র আমরা বাবরের ব্যক্তিগত জীবনের নানা ঘটনাবলীর বাইরেও তিনি যেসব অঞ্চলে বাস করেছেন বা নানা সময়ে ভ্রমণ করেছেন, সেই সব অঞ্চলের ইতিহাস ও ভূগোল সম্পর্কেও অনেক কিছুই জানতে পারি। এছাড়াও তাঁর পরিচিত মানুষদের সম্পর্কেও খুব সুন্দর ও জীবন্ত বিবরণ এই বই'এর এক অন্যতম বৈশিষ্ট্য। ফলে সে সময়ের ইতিহাস জানার একটা অনবদ্য বই এটা।
মন্তব্যঃ বিশ্বসাহিত্যে 'বাবরনামা' একটি উল্লেখযোগ্য রচনা। অন্যতম শ্রেষ্ঠ বই হিসেবে বিবেচিত হয়। আকবরের শাসনকালে বৈরাম খানের পুত্র রহিম খানকে দায়িত্ব দেওয়া হয় ফার্সি ভাষায় অনুবাদ করতে।পরবর্তিতে ইংরেজিতে অনুদিত হয়। নিজের সমালোচনা সবাই করতে পারেনা, করলেও হয়তো সবটুকু পারেন না।
বাবরের প্রধান শত্রু ছিল, শায়বানি খান। বাবরকে সিংহাসনচুত্য করেন তিনি এবং জোর করে তার বোন খানজাদাকে বিয়ে করেন। আসলে বাবর সহ অন্যান্যদের জীবন রক্ষার্তে খানজাদাকে শায়বানি খানের সাথে বিবাহ দেওয়া হয়। বাবরনামাতে এই কথাটা বাবর সেভাবে বলেননি। কিংবা বলতে পারেন নাই, জমাটবাধা কষ্টের কারনে। অনেকটা পাশ কাটিয়ে চলে গেছেন। এতটুকু ত্রুটি বাদ দিলে, এক অসাধারন একটি বই এটা।
আল-সুলতান আল-আজম ওয়াল খাকান আল কুকারাম পাদশাহ গাজী জহির উদ্দিন মুহাম্মদ জালাল উদ্দিন বাবর রচিত 'তুযক-ই-বাবরি' বইটা পড়ে দেখতে পারেন। একটি তথ্য- বর্তমানে মধ্য, পশ্চিম ও দক্ষিণ এশিয়ার অন্তত ২৫টি দেশে এই বইটি বা তার কিছু অংশ স্কুলস্তরে পাঠ্য হিসেবে ব্যবহৃত হয়।
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