Riddler on the Roof

So here are two riddles from way ... way .... back lost in the pages of history of my beloved city DELHI when the KHILJI Dynasty was on the throne and was followed by the TUGLAK's .....


These two riddles were first put into verse form by that SHATIR Poet (as they say) Abdul Hassan better known to us as Ameer Khusrau (14th Century A.D).




The first one has the answer within the riddle but in Urdu.....

Twenty I sliced, I cut off their Heads
No Life was lost, No Blood was shed.





The second one goes something like this Arz... kia Hai.....



All night he stayed with me.
Came the dawn and out he went;
At his going my heart burst
O Friend, was it my lover?
No friend, it was the .........


It was the...??? It was the.....???? Hain? Hain????

Well Khusrau was a good poet albeit given to harping his own horn.

He also lay claim to the honorific of TOOT- AI- HIND (The Voice of India or The Nightingale of India). He was the spawn of a mixed marriage between a Mussalman and his Hindu Wife and a great favorite of
KHWAJA NIZAM UDDIN AULIYA that deverish (Sufi Saint) of Ghiaspur
(Ghiaspur is today known as Hazrat Nizamuddin in Delhi).

God had given him brains and talent but forgotten to temper his gifts with modesty. This braggart who compared himself to Shaikh Saadi had not read what had been written about people who chant their own praises:

It dioes not behoove a man of wisdom
By his own tongue to praise himself;
What pleasure does a woman beget
If with her own hand she rubs her breast?