Rustum-i-Dauran,
Arustu-i-Zeman,
Wal Mamalik,
Asif Jah,
Nawab Mir Osman,
Alikhar Banadur,
MaSAFRUL Mulk Nizam Al-Mulk,
Sipah Solar,
Fateh Jang,
His Exalted Highness,
Most Faithful Ally of the British Crown.
It was bigger than he was: 90 pounds, five foot three inches. And it was in better condition than his teeth, long since rotted to brownish fangs by chewing betel nuts.
Behind him, everywhere, came his food taster, to share his cream, sweets, fruits, and bowl of opium.
He was the richest man in the world, and the only Prince called “His Exalted Highness.” He got that for a campaign contribution – to the military
campaign in World War I ($100 million worth).
Richest of the rich – cheapest of the cheap.
A magnificent gold service, fit to sit down a hundred to dine. But he ate off a tin plate.He wore the same fez for 35 years, and a mangy one it was.
Guests were welcome to smoke cigarettes when they visited. The Nizam liked it. When they were gone, he would pick out
the butts, and smoke what was left!
When the Resident came calling, every Sunday after church, the Nizam showed him true hospitality:
a cup of tea
a biscuit
a cigarette (no more).
His health wasn’t very good, though even his doctor didn’t know how bad it was. He came to the palace, bringing an electro-cardiogram machine and couldn’t get a reading on the Nizam’s heart. It turned out that his Exalted Highness had turned down the electrical current for the palace, so there wasn’t enough juice to make the machine work.
But say what you will, he was a meticulous man.
He had his waste-baskets emptied once a year, regular as clockwork, on his birthday.
And in one drawer, the old miser had the Jacob diamond, about the size of a lime, 280 carats. Tremendously valuable. The Nizam wrapped it in an old newspaper, and used it for a paperweight.
His collection of jewels was enormous.
Pearls alone, they said, would be enough to cover the sidewalks of Piccadilly circus. He had over $10 million in cash in his palace, and he wrapped them in old newspapers and kept them in corners of his attic and basement. (Nobody got use of them except the rats, who ate through some and made nests of a lot of the rest).
What does a guy like this do for a good time? Well, as a matter of fact, he had the biggest collection of pornographic photographs in India. And he got a lot of it on the cheap, as with everything else. Guests didn’t know that there were secret cameras in the walls and ceilings of their bedrooms, that worked automatically. Whatever they did was put on film. There were cameras over the toilet, too.
There, his family remembers quite a different side. His choice of administrators was very good, and his own talent for administration was quite good.
He was, in fact, not oppressive or cruel. He was a kind man, entirely tolerant on religious and other matters. And if he ate very cheap food himself, the food the rest of the palace got was sumptuous. On Christmas Eve, he would go to the local Catholic mission with his harem and retainers, to take in midnight mass – it was a way of showing respect. There the Nizam would be, in the front row, and on leaving, he would give a handsome donation to the Sisters. Because
many of his people were Hindu, he attended the Hindu celebrations as well, and would show up at the temples as well.
(The British Resident was very concerned that the Nizam’s son might not ...
well, might not like women. This wouldn’t be good in a future Nizam, and he told His Exalted Highness so.
The Nizam summoned the heir apparent before them both, and an extremely pretty woman.
And said: Okay. Show the Resident he’s wrong.)
The Nizam was Moslem.
His people were Hindu.
At first, he tried to hold the line and stay independent.
But India surrounded it on all sides, and could starve it out.
There was no one to look to for help.
The Indian army marched in, and the state was absorbed.
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