William Dalrymple at the launch of The Last Mughal at Taj Bengal. Picture by Pabitra Das

What: Launch of William Dalrymple’s book The Last Mughal.

Where: Terrace Garden, Taj Bengal.

When: Monday, 7.30 pm.

Take a look: It was like stepping into a different era. The darkness was dispelled only by lanterns lining the sides of the terrace, or placed firmly on the tables and by mashals burning at the back. The aroma of kebabs was also there. But unlike at a Mughal serai, some excellent champagne cocktails were served and the event was attended by Calcutta’s best-heeled, including actresses Moon Moon Sen and June.

They were not disappointed. Ravi Singh, publisher, Penguin India, exhorted the audience to buy not one, but two copies each of The Last Mughal, one for posterity (though Dalrymple can do without that; his tome on Bahadur Shah Zafar II is flying from bookstores).

The author, in a white kurta pyjama, looking a bit like the white Mughals he is so fond of, kicked off with a juicy comment on a Calcutta historian who had taken issue with his book, and then plunged into his almost hour-long audio-visual presentation on the life and times of Zafar, the last Timurid to have “ruled” Delhi.

There was a painting of David Ochterlony, Dalrymple’s favourite white Mughal (Europeans, who till the earlier part of the 19th century, embraced Indian, in this case Mughal, ways of life), during an outing with his 13 wives on elephant backs. The number of white Mughals started to dwindle as the British became more set in their imperial ways.

Dalrymple is in love with Zafar, considered effete and weak by history. He spoke of the artistic brilliance of Zafar’s court and era, peopled by calligraphers, poets, sufi saints — Zafar himself was a bit of all these. His end as an exile in Rangoon as a poor, senile man was tragic, but there was always something faraway and poignant about the last emperor’s eyes, even when he was young and robust.

Voiceover: Earlier in the day, Dalrymple had expressed a desire to host his perfect dinner party with his favourite characters. “There would be Ochterlony, there would be Anarkali, there would be Mubarak Begum, Ochterlony’s chief wife, and of course, Ghalib.”