1. Various Details of Nasir's Biography.

It is strange to note that Nasir's nisba was so often discussed in detail, and nothing definite was decided. Nisba does not necessarily indicate the exact place of its owner's birth. In modern practice, which was obviously also at work during the mediaeval periods in Persian history, for the convenience of the public every one who was born in a small and little known village or town would designate himself after the province to which his native place belonged, or, if the province was very large, the capital town of the district. Thus a native and inhabitant of Qasimabad, a hamlet in the district of Sirjan, in the province of Kirman, would call himself not Qasimabadi, but Kirmani. It was only when special precision was for some reason required, would he call himself Kirmani Sirjani Qasimabadi (or use these nisbas in reverse order).

Nasir-i Khusraw who called himself Marwazi Qubadiyani, although in is Diwan he very frequently mentions Balkh as his residence where he had his house and family, is perfectly right. He was born in Qubadiyan whixh was a small town known little outside the province to which it belonged. As the capital of the state to which Qubadiyan belonged was Mrw, he called himself aslo Marwazi. Balkh was merely his residence, probably temporary, although he obviously had there some immovable property. Thus there is nothing in the least strange in his two nisbas.

In his Safar-nama he calls himself Abu Mu'in Nasir b. Khusraw. The participial forms Mu'in, Nasir were at that time, when they came into general use, always combined with din, dawla, etc. it is difficult to believe that Mu'in by itself was used as an official name; it should have been Mu'inu'd-din. Similarly, Nasir is an abbreviation, and originally should have been Nasiru'd-din. Such names, or rather religious surnames, did not form the original name of a man, but were given, or assumed, as a sign of respectability, of belonging to the middle or upper class. Thus we may note that in reality we do not know the original name of Nasir-i Khusraw.

If you tell a Badkhshani or a Qanjuti Ismaili that Nasir was not a Sayyid, he will become very offended and angry. On this point they have no doubt, and the learned amongst them are always ready to point out a passage in his works which testifies to this. Sayyid Hasan Taqi-Zada, in his valuable introduction to the Diwan,mentioned above, touches on this matter, quoting various passages in the Diwan in which Nasir denies being a Sayyid, or rather politely declines to claim the privileges connected with this. But it may be noted that he overlooks at least two important quaotations in which Nasir calls himself an ‘Alawi, i.e. Alid, as on p. 98, line 5: "What woudst thou say, why has this ‘Alawi of noble birth (ghawhar-pak) fallen into this prison and these fetters?" Or, on p. 97, line i4: "We (=I) are related to the relics of the progeny of the Prophet" (ma bar athar-i ‘itrat-i Payghambar khwish-im).

It is often said that ‘Alawi means Shi'ite. I doubt very much that this was ever so. When, as Mr. Taqi-Zada points out, he incidentally calls himself a Fatimi, this is perfectly right. Early Ismailis really called themselves Fatimi. Thus there is quite enough reason to believe that Nasir was really a Sayyid, but as it was probably difficult to prove this with documents in hand, he exercised modesty and religious self-effacement in connection with this.

The poisonous effect of the legendary biography of Nasir makes his figure absurdly inflated: he is the most learned man; occupies a very high position in the state, later on in the Ismaili hierarchy; in his young days was, as Mr. Taqi-Zada says (p.10), "ham-majlis wa ham-piyala" of kings i.e. participant of the assemblies and drunken orgies of princes, and so forth. Scrutinizing Nasir's own statements, we can see that all this is based on misunderstanding.

Born, as he himself mentions (p.173, 9) in 394/104, obviously in a family belonging to the government officials' class, he probably followed the custom of that time and entered the service at an early age. He evidently received very little systematic schooling, and his works bear the clear stamp of a autodidact. As a gifted and mentally alert youth he undoubtedly took much real interest in many things, although this never amounted to anything like his poetry's years-long search for truth. Otherwise he would hardly have devoted his time (as he himself says in his Diwan,p.156, line 17-19) to composing indecent or frivolous (hazl) poetry and "practicing such vices that when you remember these, your face becomes dark, and mind becomes depressed." This, of course, is expressed in poetry in which hyperbolism, exaggeration, is the fundamental law. Most probably this simply means that he enjoyed his life and composed ordinary love songs, which in the strictly religious outlook of his old age appeared to him as shameful frivolity. In his youth he imagined that his hand ‘was as high as the moon" (p.156, lines 13-14), because the amir i.e. most probably the Ghaznawid prince, "never takes the wine cup into his hands without me." this may imply that in his youth he was a favourite servant whose duty was to serve wine. But from the context it possible to conjecture that this is merely a hyperbolic poetical expression for the fact that in his drinking orgies the amir to whom he alludes, being fond of Nasir's songs, always sung or recited, or ordered his singers to sing the verse composed by him.

We may note that the change of the dynasties took place in his mother country in 429/1038, when he was already 35 years of age. When only eight years later, in 437/end1045, he sat out on his great journey, he was, as he himself writes, a kind of controller of accounts in provincial revenue offices, a post of some importance but, of course, by no means one of the highest in the state. The details of his journey fully so support the impression that he was far from a top ranking official. He starts with only his brother and a single Indian slave. Surely, an official of importance would not go on a pilgrimage in such an "austere" manner. It is quite probable that the change of dynasty had affected his career, as can be seen from the mention of his own brother who probably occupied a very high post. That high position of his brother perhaps may explain his personal experience at the Ghaznawid court. The patriarchal conditions of life at that remote period would easily have permitted the successful courtier to bring to the court his relatives who could serve in some way.

Being very religious by nature, Nasir was also very supertitious, believing in all sorts of tilisms, astrological calculations, and so forth. He himself mentions that he tried his hand at alchemy "out of greed." In all his works it is difficult to discern any sign of high theological erudition, "the learning" of his time, and specially any spark of originality, of creative genius. Almost all his prose works (except, of course, the safar-nama), deal with elementary philosophic matters, which he repeated over and over again, never making any advance or introducing any new and original idea. He surely can be compared neither with such an erudite Ismaili scholar as Abu Hatim ar-Razi, nor a masterly expert in theology and philosophy such as Hamidu'd- din al-Kirmani, nor even the second class author such as Abu Ya'qub as-Sijistani or as-Sijzi, whom he attacks and abuses. His contemporary and teacher, al-Mu'ayyid ash-Shirazi, a diplomatical and seriously learned, intelligent man, was certainly much superior to him.

A tall, robust, rustic looking man, Nasir brings into his works the rustic, primitive atmosphere. All of them bear the indellible stamp of rustic uncouthness, crudeness, and of a hard struggle in expressing even the most ordinary ideas. Nasir was not a pioneer in writing on philosophical matters in Persian, but his style is extremely unartistic, dull, full of unnecessary repetitions, -again no spark of genius, or originality, all monotonously boring, invariably tending to the repetition of commonplace truths and platitudes.

As he appears in his best work, the Safar-nama, he was by his outlook a country squire, always with a keen eye on matters which belong to the usual circle of interests in his native country. He pays special attention to irrigational facilities of the lands through which he passes, bazar prices, trade, industry, in addition to his favourite tilisms, and other superstitious beliefs. Historical associations do not exist for him; apparently he knew nothing of history.

But it would be wrong to take him for a sincerely and deeply modest man, conscious of his own short-comings. No, he knows his own price, and even puts it far higher than would others. He never misses an opportunity for boasting, and his own learning and works appear particularly important and valuable to him. His drama is his frustrations, non-recognition of his own importance.