Acknowledgments

I first read Begum Sarbuland Jung’s travel account, The World through a Woman’s Eyes, in 2012. I encountered it in a dusty but peaceful corner of a university library in New Delhi. At the time, I was conducting research for a book on the history of the travelogue genre in South Asia. I had never heard of Begum Sarbuland Jung, but I was instantly captivated by her book’s bold title. As I thumbed through the volume, I began to suspect that I had stumbled on a hidden gem. My suspicions were confirmed by the date of the travel diary’s composition. Written in 1909–10, this was in fact one of the first full-length travel accounts ever written by a Muslim woman in modern India. Over the years, as my research on the travelogue genre progressed, I became increasingly convinced that Begum Sarbuland’s account was a literary and historical landmark that was long overdue for translation and study. The present volume intends to meet that need and introduce Begum Sarbuland and her insights on Islam and the lives of Muslim women to contemporary English-speaking audiences. It also brings Begum Sarbuland’s voice to an ongoing scholarly conversation about women’s social and literary contributions to Muslim societies in early twentieth-century India.

When I first read her travelogue, there was no historical information available about Begum Sarbuland whatsoever. Frankly, beyond the fact that she had married a prominent lawyer and judge from northern India, I had almost no idea who she was. Thankfully, that is no longer the case. Researching Begum Sarbuland and her fascinating life has been a long and exciting journey, one that I could never have completed on my own. I begin these acknowledgments by expressing my gratitude to all those who encouraged and supported me through the process of writing this book and translating Begum Sarbuland’s voice for readers today.

Above all, I am grateful for the enthusiasm and patience I have been shown by Begum Sarbuland’s surviving relatives. Their contributions to the final form of this book cannot be overstated. When I began my research, I found hints of Begum Sarbuland across the colonial archive, in English and in Urdu, but struggled to weave them into a coherent narrative and produce a meaningful picture of her life. Even the most basic details one might wish for in a biography, things like her birth and death dates, eluded me. Exasperated, I finally stepped out of the library and turned my focus toward locating a relative of hers who might be able to give me some leads. Early clues came from the website of the late Jamal Khwaja, who mentioned in an online article about his family history that Begum Sarbuland had been his grandmother. This reference gave me a leg to stand on. I wrote to Jamal, who responded enthusiastically but sadly passed away before we could continue our correspondence.

A second breakthrough came when I stumbled on a Facebook post that led me to Begum Sarbuland’s great-nephew, Mirza Jahandar Baig, who happened to live in Chicago, just a few miles down the road from me. Jahandar enthusiastically shared data on his family ancestry and provided me with helpful photographs and other important leads. Soon, the begum’s bare-boned biography began to take on flesh. In addition to treating me to Hyderabadi kheema and Chicken 65 on Devon Street, Jahandar also connected me with Begum Sarbuland’s grandson, Najeeb Jung. Without Najeeb’s assistance this book would be much the poorer. He spent hours sharing memories of his grandmother with me, once over burgers in Hoboken, later over kebabs at the Delhi Golf Club, and almost weekly via WhatsApp. For nearly two years, he has shared pictures, references, and reminiscences in the service of this project. He also helped me collect photographs from family members and connected me to other surviving relatives who grew up with Begum Sarbuland.

The first person he connected me with was Mrs. Shakira Sultana, Begum Sarbuland’s granddaughter. She too graciously gave me a lengthy interview, shared relevant photographs, and has allowed me to pester her repeatedly with inquiries small and large. Today, my phone is brimming with messages and voice notes from her containing eyewitness information and familial insight on Begum Sarbuland’s life in preindependence Hyderabad. At my behest, Shakira apa also cracked open and pored through Begum Sarbuland’s private notebooks, which she has preserved, to check for any detail I might need.

I am incredibly grateful for and indebted to Abid Ilahi, who was surely a professional historian in a former life. This book has been immeasurably enriched by his enthusiasm for the project and the countless hours he has invested in its success. Abid has gone well out of his way to provide insights, share memories, track down information, and locate, scan, and upload many of the photographs that adorn these pages. In the final stages of this project, with a publication deadline looming, Abid took on this work as though it were his full-time job. He read drafts of the biography, cross-checked many of the details with his relatives, helped me untangle family relations, and carefully calculated birth and death dates. It was through his meticulous detective work alone that nearly all the individuals who appear in the photographs reproduced in this book have been identified.

Like a good historian, Abid was adamant that I consult family accounts of Begum Sarbuland from a variety of perspectives. Through his good offices, I did. Saberah Malik shared with me the stories that her mother, Taj Begum, would tell her about her grandmother. She also detailed Begum Sarbuland’s interest in fashion and photographed a dress that Begum Sarbuland designed for the Delhi Durbar of 1911. In the final weeks of the project, I learned that one of Begum Sarbuland’s grandchildren lived just two blocks away from my office in Evanston. I thank Muazzam Ilahi for immediately agreeing to meet me for coffee and share his own memories and reflections of his grandmother. I am also thankful to Begum Sarbuland’s granddaughters, Mrs. Sehar Mansoor and Dr. Zehra Jung, for their insights and for allowing me to use images from their private collections. Jawahar Khwaja, who maintains a phenomenal collection of images of his family, generously shared many of these with me. Asma Jung cheerfully scanned files, uploaded images, and patiently fielded my many queries.

For me, speaking with Begum Sarbuland’s family had the effect of bringing this project to life. When I began, I believed that I was reading words from the past, written by a woman who had long since left this earth. It was a purely historical study. Now, though, I realize that even seventy years after her demise, Begum Sarbuland and her legacy persist, and not just in memories. Begum Sarbuland dedicated herself to her children and grandchildren. By speaking to so many individuals who benefited directly or indirectly from her teaching, guidance, and determination, Begum Sarbuland has, for me, been transformed from an ephemeral historical figure to someone whose legacy remains immediately tangible.

Beyond Begum Sarbuland’s descendants, I am also indebted to my professional mentors, friends, and family for their support in making this book possible. The true genesis of this book came in 2015, when I began work on a volume on travel writing by Muslim women from around the world (Three Centuries of Travel Writing by Muslim Women, published by Indiana University Press) that I coedited with Sunil Sharma and Siobhan Lambert-Hurley. It was for that book that I first wrote about Begum Sarbuland and translated portions of her travelogue. Both Sunil and Siobhan have published extensively on women’s travel writing in Urdu, and they have been invaluable mentors for my work in this field. Both provided encouragement and feedback and suggested secondary source material. I also benefited from discussions of my work on this text at several conference presentations and lectures, including at the Annual Conference on South Asia at Madison in 2016, the Berkshire Conference on the History of Women, Genders, and Sexualities in 2017, the University of Chicago’s Workshop of the Center for the Study of Gender and Sexuality the same year, Delhi University in 2022, and the University of Lausanne in 2023.

At Northwestern, I have had many conversations about this book with my colleague Laura Brueck, a champion for the value of academic translation. Her encouragement played a major role in bringing this project to fruition. I have also benefited from conversations from many other colleagues, friends, and mentors, including Gail Minault, Barbara Metcalf, Francesca Orsini, C.M. Naim, Rajeev Kinra, Melissa MacCauley, Sylvia Vatuk, Blain Auer, Nishat Zaidi, Roanne Kantor, Andrew McDowell, Timsal Masud, Arafat Razzaque, Melina Gravier, David Boyk, Katherine Merriman, Haris Qadeer, Asiya Alam, and Sabeena Sheikh. Ragy Mikhaeel helped me decipher some of the more esoteric renderings of Arabic conversation included in the diary. David Boyk and Andrew McDowell have talked through every aspect of this project with me. Both have read and commented on much of its contents. Sumaira Nawaz has talked endlessly about this work with me, allowing me to bounce ideas off her and always giving the wisest council. Abdurrashid helped me understand difficult passages and patiently explained unfamiliar familial terminology.

Two brilliant and motivated undergraduate students at Northwestern, Hajra Malik and Hamnah Malik, read the original translation, provided feedback, helped me check tricky sections against the original Urdu, and assisted me with various research tasks. My collaboration with both was facilitated by funding from Northwestern’s wonderful Undergraduate Research Assistant Program. Even after the grant finished, Hamnah stayed on, transforming from a research assistant to an excellent editor. She has provided critical editorial advice. Anusha Tomar indulged in debates about the nuance and meaning of many passages in the travelogue and suggested ways to improve my writing. Rija Ahmed spent countless hours cheerfully checking every doubt I had about the meanings of individual lines. After submitting the initial manuscript to Indiana University Press (IUP), two anonymous readers gave me several pages’ worth of insightful feedback that helped bring this book to its final form. Bethany Mowry, Sophia Hebert, Lesley Bolton, and Samantha Heffner at IUP have been the best editors and project managers that one could hope for, and I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to work with them for a second time. Matthew Perez provided careful copyediting.

Special thanks are due to the Alice Kaplan Institute for the Humanities at Northwestern University. The institute provided a generous subvention that allowed me to include a rich collection of high-quality images with this book. James Nicholson, Qaisra Khan, and Nahla Nassar assisted me in locating and preparing images of the Hjiaz Railway included in this book. I thank the Khalili Family Trust for allowing me to include these rare photographs.

Finally, I thank the librarians and staff at Jamia Hamdard for their hard work to preserve Urdu’s literary heritage and history. They allowed me to access their collections, which includes one of the last remaining copies of Begum Sarbuland’s travel account. It was at Jamia Hamdard that I first read Begum Sarbuland, and thus, it is through their efforts to preserve Urdu’s literary heritage that this project was ultimately put into motion.