If we thought that the ghastly genocide of the hapless Hindus of Malabar in 1921 at the hands of the Moplah Muslims was a sudden or sporadic occurrence due to the sustained, inflammatory preaching of the bigoted Khilafat gang, we are missing a sense of history. Ever since the Moplah Muslims lost their near-monopolistic clutch on trade and commerce with the Arabs on the Malabar coast to the superior might of the Portuguese, they sought other occupations and spread over different parts of Kerala. They became hired farmhands, labourers, and did other odd jobs working under the accursed infidel Hindus. One major branch of these Moplahs became hired mercenaries or freelance plunderers engaged in attacking well-to-do villages comprising majority of Hindus. The nauseating pattern repeated: large scale looting, arson, kidnapping Hindu women, forced conversions…you know the rest. By the early 19th century, they had become a constant source of scourge and concern even for the British.
In this rapacious and murderous endeavor, the Moplahs were guided, inspired and motivated by a handy song titled The Delights of Paradise. The West Coast Spectator, a weekly from Kozhikode ran an English translation of this “song” 6 July 1922. Here is the full text of the “song.”
The pleasures of Wealth or of family are not equal to an atom of celestial happiness. Our most venerable Prophet has said that those who die in battle can see the houris who will come to witness the fight. There is nothing in this world to compare to the beauty of the houris. The splendour of the sun, of the moon, and of the lightning is darkness compared with the beauty of their hair which hang over their shoulders. Their cheeks, eyes, face, eyebrows, forehead, head are incomparably lovely. Their mouths are like corals of gold, their teeth like seeds of the thali’ flowers. It is not possible for the mind to conceive of the loveliness of their breasts and shoulders. If they spit in the sea, the salt water becomes as sweet as honey, as fragrant as attar. If they were to come down to this earth, and smile, the sun, moon and stars would be eclipsed. Mortals would die if they but heard the music of their voices. When they wear red silk bordered with green lace of seventy, folds, their skins, muscles and bones can be seen through. Such is the splendour of their body. If they clap their hands, the clash of their jewels will be heard at a distance of 50 years of journey. They clap their hands, dance and sing, as they come like the swans to the battlefield. If a human being were to see their beauty, their dance, or their smile, he would die on the spot. Gently they touch the wounds of those who die in battle, they rub away the blood, cure the pain, they kiss and embrace the martyrs, give them to drink the sweet water of heaven and gratify their every wish. A horse caparisoned with precious stones will be brought and a voice will say: — Let my men mount: let them dance with the celestial houris. Then the celestial coverings will be placed on their heads, they will mount the beautiful horse which will dance and leap and take them to heaven, where they will live in unbounded joy.
This is an excerpt from a full “song” composed in the memory of 47 Sayyidakkals (Martyrs belonging to the Sayyid sect) who died fighting against the soldiers of Para Nambi, a Hindu chieftain from Malappuram. The memory of this battle subsequently became an annual festival for these Muslims who celebrated it as the Malappuram Nercha. As Sri Gopalan Nair writes, “every Moplah out on the warpath carries with him whenever possible a copy of the song.”
Which now brings us to some of the major aggressions of the Moplahs against Hindus predating the gruesome climax of 1921, recorded by Sri Gopalan Nair who lists fifty-one incidents of unprovoked assaults against Hindus by the Moplahs. Only the most notable incidents are given below. Emphases added.
To be continued
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