Skip to main content

Confrontations

The two shadows met at the darkest corner of the Rani Mahal late at night.
“Hua kya hai… jaldi boliye.” He looked around alarmed lest the guards see them.
“Wohh, humne yeh socha ke aapko suchit kar de ke Shyaam mandir bolke hum Jija ko kaha le jana chahte.” Her voice had a hint of anxiety in it.
“Matlab? Subah aapne hi toh Dadabhai se bola…”
“Haan Dadabhai Shakti,woh islie kyunki hum nahi chahte thee ki woh ya Jija jaane se mana kare…”
“Par le kaha ja rahe hum unko?”
“Jaha sab kuch ka aanth hua tha wahi se nayi surwaad karvane.” She smiled faintly.
“Kya? Vrindavan? Asambhav. Dadabhai nahi jaenge waha.” He shook his head vigorously making it a point that it was impossible to convince a adamant Kunwar Pratap.
“Ve avashya aenge, unko aana parega. Jija ke liye.” Pur’s voice was loud and clear as he stood there watching her leave. 
“Ajabde bhabisa ke bhaati yeh bhi sherni bann rahi, hei eklingji hum ko dadabhai ke krodh sebacha lena.” Shakti murmured a soft prayer.

At dawn, two Palanquins left the Ranimahal as Jaivanta Bai whispered a small prayer watching them go.
“Bhai Shakti yeh hum kaha jaa rahe?” Kunwar Pratap was restless in the forest path as he reigned Sarang. “Hum ko srighraa Shyam mandir pouchna, Ajabde…”
“Hum aap ko bhabisa ke paas hi le jaa rahe hai, jaha woh hai….”
“Hum kuch samajh nahi paa rahe Bhai Shakti spastta se boliye.”

“Pur Behena. Hum ko itna samay kyun lag raha hai Mandir pouchne mein?” Ajabde called out softly from her palki.”
“Ohho Jija woh humne ek dusre mandir ke baare mein suna toh hum waha pehle jaa rahe bas.” Pur tried to sound normal as she said a soft prayer.

“Humari putri ko lekar woh Samanth putri kaha chali gayi… agar usko kuch ho gaya toh?” Pur’s tensed mother paced the room stopping at Dheer Bai’s entry.
“Hum bhi yehi soch rahe thee, bhagwan na kare… par sach yehi hai ke woh dono toh sautan hai, ek dusre ke prati….”
“Dheer Behena.” Sajja Bai’s firm voice made her stop. 
“Waise toh sautan hum aur jija bhi hai, par jija humse behen se bhi zyada sneh karti. Aur Ajabde humari jija ki parchai hai bhabisa aap ko koi chinta ki…” She stopped watching a fuming Dheerbai leave.

Ajabde’s heart skipped a beat getting out of the Palanquin. Those white marble stairs brought back horrifying memories of the day that changed her life, changed her.  One by one she made her way up the same stairs to reach the porch he had left her at. Pur smiled at her saying “Aap yaha rukiye hum abhi aate hai Jija.”
“Ji.” She managed to find voice and smile faintly watching Pur go. 

Breathing in deeply she closed her eyes. The Temple complex. Those stairs. Her Daata’s last breath. Ghrina karte hai hum apse… prem marr gaya hai….. His words had haunted her sleep.
“Ajabdeh?” A shiver ran down her spine as she heard his voice behind her. No. She was not Ajabdeh anymore, she was Baijilal. She wiped away the lone tear and straightened her face to turn and face him. Kunwar Pratap’s eyes twinkled a little. With the memories of his biggest regret. He had left her unheard, he had been the reason her father.

“Hum e puja ke liye vilambh ho raha…” She started to excuse herself as he blocked her way; he just could not let her go. Not this time.
“Ajabdeh humari baat suniye. Hum e pata hai humse bhool hui hai, humne galti kiya, sambhavta aisi galti jiski kabhi sapne mein bhi apne humse apeksha nahi kiya tha.Hum sshama mangna chahte hai Ajabdeh… hum….” A lone tear trickled down his eyes as she looked up at his face, hands folded he was looking down In shame.

Ajabde smiled making him look up at her eyes, they were unreadable. She walked past him turning her back to him as he turned confused “Ajabdeh?”
“Sshama? Kis baat ki sshama maang rahe hai aap Kunwar Pratap? Bijolia ki Samanth se bhala apko kaisi….”
“Hum Bijolia ki Baijilal se nahi, apne patni se baat kar rahe hai.”
“Patni?” Ajabdeh smiled facing him. “Kaisa Patni?” 
He looked away as his face showed guilt.

“Kahi aap uss patni ki baat toh nahi kar rahe hai na jo aapke bharose, Bijiolia se yaha aayi thi. Jisne hamesha yeh socha ke chahe duniya uske viprit khadi ho jaaye woh hamesha aapko saath paegi.”
“Ajab….” He looked hurt like a thousand daggers stabbed him.
“Kya aap uss patni ki baat kar rahi hai, jiske laakh kehne ke uprant aapne uska ek baat tak nahi suna? Jiske marte huye pita ke baare mein sunnke aap ne ek baar bhi Bijolia mein pao tak nahi rakha? Keval islie kyunki sambhavta kisine ek chitthi se jo arop lagai thi aapko woh sahi laga…. Kyunki islie ke aapke liye apne patni ke sacchai ke upar tha apke chotima ka aarop?”
“Hum aisa…” A tear trickled down his eyes and made her heartache. 
But she was not weak anymore.
“Ya phir islie kyunki aapko Pur Baisa se vivah karna hai aur aapko apne patni ka samarthan chahiye tha?”
“Bas Kijiye Ajabdeh, bohot bol chuki aap.” He was clearly cross with the last straw.

“Haa Kunwar Pratap, hum bohot bol chuke, lekin aapke bohot bolne se bhi hum apko yeh kabhi nahi keh paaye, apke jhute aarop sunte rahe hum. Sochiye Kunwar Pratap agar aapko aisa lag raha hai sacchai se, toh humko unn jhute arop se kaisa laga hoga? Sochiye ke uss beti ko kaisa lagajab aapke karan apne aakhon ke samne usne apne pita ko….”
“Ajabdeh, hum … hum e pata hai…” He tried to compose himself to say everything he had planned to, all night.
“Jaiye Kunwar Pratap. Aj Kunwarani Ajabdeh Baisa aapse kehti hai, kar lijiye Pur Baisa se vivah aur yeh samajh lijiyega ke aaj ke baad aapki patni bas ek wohi hai, Bijolia ka Baijilal aapko aapke sabhi uttar dwaittyo se mukt karti hai.” She took three steps back as he stretched out his hand to her.
“Nahi Ajabde, nahi…”
“ Maar chukka tha aapka prem, aj maar chuki Kunwarani Ajabde Baisa.” 
She turned and took the same stairs down to her palanquin without looking back as he stood there like a statue, this time, alone and helpless watching her palanquin go.

“Hume shama kijiye hum asafal huye.” Pur’s soft voice made him wipe away the coming tears and turn to her.
“Aap unke piche jaiye, unko aapki avashakta hai.” His voice was calm and composed, as he stared at the roads leading to Chittor.
“Ji?” Pur asked confused.
“Hum…” he smiled faintly “Jaante hai apne Ajabdeh ko, woh… Hum e dukh deke dukhi na ho aisa ho nahi sakta….”

Pur stood silent staring at his unreadable face dumbfounded. She had expected an argument, maybe an ugly one too. Never had she imagined the Bravest valiant Kunwar Pratap to be silenced by Ajabdeh Baisa. And here he was once again worried for her. Pur left in silence as Shakti placed his hand on Kunwar Pratap’s shoulder.

“Sabha bulaiye Ranimahal mein bhai Shakti. Samay aa chukka hai Chotima se kuch jawab mangne ka.” His eyes reflected the fury Shakti had expected.
“Ji Dadabhai.”

“Hum wohi karenge jo aap chahti thi, Ajabdeh. Hum aapke liye yeh yudh bhi jeet  lenge jaise pehle jeete thee. Aapko hum  yeh yakeen dila denge ke hum kabhi aapka haat nahi chorenge. Yeh Kunwar Pratap ka vachan hai, Kunwarani Ajabdeh Baisa.”


CHAPTERS HERE

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Chapter One: Masquerades

“Reginald Dyer is yet to apologise for the incident which was criticised worldwide. Punjab is on high alert.” The transistor in the living room broke with the morning news. “On other news the League of Nations…” Meera wiped the already clean surface of the showcase for the second time while listening to it. One of the servants came around and switched the channel to a station where a Raga played. Meera tip-toed up to the transistor and looked around before lowering the volume. She was standing outside the door of the Magistrate’s home office, clad in a saree borrowed from Nimai’s mother, who worked at her Pishima’s house. “I need it for my maid back where I work.” Meera lied with a straight face. Nimai’s mother did not care; she was getting Didimoni’s beautiful blue Jamdani instead of her tattered clothes; she would not think twice about this unharming exchange. Meera tried to listen. The gardener sang outside, tending to the flowerbeds as his scissors snipped the bushes back to shape

His Wife

" Where is the Kesar, Rama? And the Kalash?" Ajabde looked visibly displeased at the daasi who ran. " They are at the fort gates and nothing is ready yet!" She exclaimed. She was clad in a red Jora and the jewellery she had inherited as the first Kunwarani of the crown prince. Little Amar ran down the hallway towards his mother. " Maa sa Maa sa... who is coming with Daajiraj?" His innocent question made her heart sink. " Bhanwar Ji." Sajja Bai called out to him. " Come here I will tell you." Amar rushed to his Majhli Dadisa. " Ajabde." She turned at Jaivanta Bai's call. "They are here." " M... My Aarti thali..." Ajabde looked lost like never before. Jaivanta Bai held her stone-cold hands, making her stop. She patted her head and gave her a hug. The hug gave her the comfort she was looking for as her racing heart calmed down. Jaivanta Bai left her alone with her thaal. " Maa sa!" Amar exclaimed

Protibimbo: Characters

Before Indian Independence Movement gained its prominence and momentum in the year 1930 across Bengal with the weaponry loot by Surya Sen, attacks across the offices of British Raj in Bengal by Bengal Volunteers, Jugantar Dol and other prominent anarchists, and Binoy-Badal-Dinesh stormed into Writers' Building, the 1920s were a built up to the movement when several large and small scale anarchist groups worked underground to strike the system of British Governance. It was a time when Indians realised that conferences did not bring independence to colonies, they had to pick up arms against the British Imperialists. This story is fictional. But in its core, every character represents several hundred unnamed heroes and sheroes of our freedom struggle whose names do not appear in the pages of history. " Protibimbo " meaning reflection is a story that reflects on relationships, freedom, sacrifice and battles fought within the society of that time. Characters: Abhaya: 15-year-o

Destiny

The war was almost won.  A few of Marwar’s soldiers were left on the field along with Rao Maldeo Singh Rathore, their king and leader.  He was thinking of retreating at the end of this day. As his sword clashed with one of the opponent generals as he eyed the opponent King now open and prone to attack. A little hope flickered in his mind as his eyes instructed his closest aide.  The opponent was quite in a winning situation thanks to their new Senapati. He was just 16 yet his bravery and valour reflected his blood and upbringing. He mesmerised the opponents and even Rao Maldeo with his clever war strategies and sword skills. As Maldeo’s aide swung his sword at a taken aback Udai Singh, someone’s sword defended it as his body acted like a shield for the king. He killed the man in one go. “ Ranaji are you okay?” “ Haan Raoji.” He nodded gratefully.  By half the day, the Marwar army had retreated as the air filled with “ Jai Mewar! Jai Eklingji!” From the triumphant soldiers. Rana Udai Si

Towards You

Kunwar Pratap and Ajabde were friends. He didn't feel awkward sharing his plans and thoughts with her anymore. She was more than happy to advise him on everything. She was happy he listened to her advice before taking or discarding them, be it on what to wear to Padmavati's Sagai or how to befriend the revolting Bhils. He loved the way Ajabde always used metaphors from Puranas and Ramayanas to explain the toughest things so easily. She expressed herself so well, so easily that it amazed him.   The Afghans were now led by Mehmood Shah. They have made secret territories in the forests and waited to attack. Rawatji and his spies had confirmed the news and Udai Singh had warned Mehmood Shah to withdraw his troops from Mewar in vain. Now, it was time they declared war. Mehmood Shah had limited resources in Mewar. And his spies clearly suggested that in no way could he win, especially with Kunwar Pratap leading his troops. He was having second thoughts about the war. One of his aides

She Left...

The war was over and so were the hopes of regaining Chittor. The Battle at Haldighati had robbed the Rana of all his wealth, and brave men, and bruised him for life. Trying to match up to Akbar or rather Raja Man Singh's army with one-third its strength had cost his bravery dearly. He had lost his friend and companion. He had brushed past death. The only good thing that this war ensured was that Akbar accepted that he cannot have Mewar. His army retreated and left the country in peace after almost two decades and seventeen wars. This war gave something else too. Kunwar Shakti came to help his brother in his time of need. He lived up to his brother's expectations of being loyal to his family. A heavy-hearted Rana Pratap Singh was overseeing the construction work on his lost friend's memorial right where he died, trying to save his master. The Bronze statue of the life-like Chetak stood tall but was no match for the void Chetak has left behind. He was lost in his thoughts as

Struggle of Thoughts

Kunwar Pratap and Ajabde had both by the first week known each other's schedules well and they made sure that their timings didn't clash, be it in the puja Ghar, dressing room or elsewhere. They tried to stay out of each other's way as much as possible, giving each other the space they needed. Ajabde had learned that Kunwar Pratap preferred cold sharbat and desserts over steaming hot food, he liked to wake up with the first bird's call at dawn, he didn't like any disturbances at work or at the Dangal Sthal, and he loved his mother the most. Kunwar Pratap had learned that she was intelligent enough to decipher unsaid words between the lines of any novel, epic or book she read. She was very much into spending most of her time reading or sewing and when outside he always spotted her in the garden tending to flowers with his sisters. What he saw was how similar her lifestyle was to his mother's in a very weird way. She liked things simple, preferred to make her own

My Everything

Kunwar Pratap stormed into the Mahal at Gogunda. Happy faces of the chieftains and soldiers welcomed him as Rao Ramrakh and Rawatji stopped the ongoing Raj tilak. A visibly scared Kunwar Jagmal looked clueless at a visibly angry Kunwar Pratap. Rani Dheerbai Bhattiyani hadn't expected this son of Mewar to show up that too twenty-one days after his father's death. He was not informed as per Dheerbai's instructions. She looked at Rawat Ji. He must have gone to Raoji at Bijolia. No one except them knew where Kunwar Pratap was staying. It was for the safety of his family. " What are you doing Chotima?" A disappointed voice came. She could stoop down so low? " We were about to inform you..." She spoke up in her defence. " When Dheerbai ji?" Maharani Jaivanta Bai, clad in white entered the hall as people bowed before her. " After your son's coronation?" " I did nothing Badima I swear!" A low voice came from Jagmal. " Maha

Soul Meet: Anticipated Encounter

  This post is a part of the series "Soul Meet" so if you have not read previous posts kindly read it  here. Ajabdeh submitted her paper and shut her laptop down for the weekend. Her home desk had pictures on the walls. Pictures he had clicked of her on every trip they took together. Across the country. Sometimes planned, sometimes unplanned. Long distance was tough, but in between the struggle of constantly being active on their phones to keep in touch with calls, texts, emails and video calls there was a sense of individuality, identity and liberty in it that she enjoyed. Now and then they would meet at a spot in between somewhere and go on trips. Hike to mountains, laze at beaches and try adventure sports. Everything she experienced in the past year was ticked off her bucket list. Each memory now sat glued to her desk wall, in pictures he clicked. He was a good photographer and she: his muse. She was surprised when he called the previous day saying he would be coming to se

Of Faith and Fate

Series Announcement! Historical Fictions are special, so here is one, short but special tale close to my heart after a really long time! This story is a special one because it is completely historical fiction with very little connection to the fan fiction I have written previously. However, I have maintained the sequence of events, reading history books on the context.  This is not a story of a man and a woman, their love and trust. This one is about the tests time often puts people through, forcing them to change. My protagonists in this one are hence, two princesses of the same age. Ajabdeh Punwar or Ajbante Kanwar Baisa, as she is locally called is the princess of a very significant district of Bijolia in Mewar. Bijolia lies in the seat of political events, at the border of Bundi and Mewar. Having her lineage from the mighty Chauhans, her forefathers once ruled Mewar. Her father is an officer in the army of Mewar under Rana Udai Singh and she is a lady of principles,