Skip to main content

The Chosen Ones



“How you see the outcome of a war often depends on whose side you are on.”

The forestland of Bhilwara was dense. It was also the border between Mewar and Bundi, the most powerful states of Rajputana. The borders were being constantly patrolled by the guards of Mewar, owing to the recent win over the Afghans. Sher Shah Suri’s general had been defeated at last at Chittorgarh, the capital. But the borders in this area were never safe, especially with so many villages near it. Apart from enemies, there were looters and dacoits on the route too, who often troubled the travellers. Not far from the forestland was the Chambal basin of the Aravallis.

It was a very hot summer afternoon. The guards stopped beneath a tree, tired and thirsty, in search of water. Two travellers were resting there, one was an old man, who seemed to have weak limbs, and another his son, probably.
“Are you looking for water, Brother?” The younger man asked.
“Yes.” The soldiers were pleased with the travellers offering them water from their pitchers. “Thank you for your kindness.”
Within an hour, the guards lay lifeless under the tree. Their clothes were adorned by the travellers who smiled at their success, and their weapons were taken away.
“He defeated us, insulted me” The older man clenched his jaws “The boy will pay.”
“Yes, Hukum.” The younger man agreed. “The spies say he will travel through the forests any minute now.” He looked around “And we can accompany him towards Sirohi, as his guards and…”
“When the time comes…” The man smiled. “Sweet sweet time!”
“But Hukum,” the younger one frowned “, Are you sure he won’t be able to recognise you?”
“Not a chance.” He smiled, checking his false moustache. “Shams Khan is no fool.”

“Hukum Hukum!” The soldier from Bijoliya had reached the palace courtroom in a hurry. “I have some news.”
“What is it?” Rao Ramrakh Punwar got up from his seat, agitated. He was a man, perhaps in his late thirties, with a twirling moustache and beard and a stout figure. From the look on the soldier’s face, it seemed to be bad news. His wife and daughters were at the temple outside the fort for the Gangaur festivities. Were they safe?
“Hukum, we found the bodies of two of our soldiers at the Bundi border in the forest.” The soldier stopped. “Their clothes and weapons were missing.”
“Bundi attacked again?” Ramrakh Punwar looked worried. “But…”
“Hukum, if I may…” his court advisor spoke.
“Yes?”
“Hukum, Kunwar Partap is going to travel through those trails to meet his friend at Sirohi this afternoon. With the news of an alliance between the prince of Sirohi and his sister, everyone knows he will travel this way. He…” The man stopped “Just defeated the Afghans at Chittor, what if it’s…”
“Shams Khan!” Raoji looked troubled “Send a messenger to Kunwar Partap with a warning. And order all troops to report at the camps for a background check, now!”
“But Hukum…” The man frowned, worried, “Kunwarsa must have left Chittorgarh by now, and knowing him, he never takes the normal route through the forests, our messenger will never find him before…”
“Hey Eklingji”, Raoji exclaimed, “Alert the borders, send troops to the forest, I will go there myself. We need to find Kunwarsa!” He walked away to the stable, worried. Kunwar Partap was not just Mewar’s future; he was…
“Daasi.” He called the nearest lady in waiting, “Tell Ranisa and Rajkumarisa to return to the Mahal immediately, Bijoliya might be in danger; we need to shut the fort down, now!”
“Yes, Hukum.” The scared maid ran to the temple.

Somewhere, miles away, in the rugged lands of Kabul, a well-built, tall man with dark eyes had his eyes fixed on the road. He had stopped where he was instructed to by his master. His skin was tanned from a long journey, and his eyes looked weary.
“ Janab!” The old keeper of the inn frowned at his gaze “Are you a soldier?”
The man shook his head with a smile, “Just a trader.” He stared at the man who seemed convinced by his words. Carefully, he had hidden his battle scars under the layers of thick clothing.
“Are you waiting for someone?” The old man asked again.
“Yes.” He gave a polite smile to the man who seemed to be observing him.
“Who is it?” The old man asked, making a bubbling sound on his Hookah. “Someone important?”
The man did not like this curiosity, although he didn’t show it on his face.
“Yes, my elder brother and nephew are coming back from… The Middle East.”
“Ah! Traders?” The old man nodded wisely.
“Yes, carpet traders.” He agreed.

His eyes stopped at the road where a small group of travellers were visible. His eyes glittered in happiness. He ran to reach the two men on horseback.
The older man, in his late forties, was also as tall as him, but not very well built. He seemed tired from the long journey. Perhaps unwell too. He smiled at the sight of this man, a little relieved as the man was about to bow to him. He pulled the man in a surprising embrace.
“Bairam Khan” It was almost like a whisper. “Don’t bow, we may be watched.”
“Yes.” He shook his head proudly at his master, “Nasir Bhai.” He remembered the name Nasiruddin Mohammad Humayun had used in his letter. His eyes travelled to the boy, barely twelve, sitting on the black horse. He smiled faintly at the man. The boy seemed to be tired from the long journey, but his eyes showed intelligence. He, who was destined for greatness, sat in ordinary rugs, tanned and scarred from the journey with his father. Bairam Khan felt remorse at the sight of his master’s plight.
“Come, I have arranged a room for the night. We will start our journey again at dawn.” He saw the boy smile at him in relief.


The year was 1553 -1554 A.D. While the Afghans, after the sudden death of Sher Shah Suri, engaged in a power struggle under the general Shams Khan, they were defeated at Chittorgarh, which is attributed in history as the first war in which Prince Partap Singh of Mewar participated and made an impact in. On the other side, Humayun travelled with his son and a few trusted people around the Middle East to gather help for winning back Din Panah (Delhi). Their Harem is stationed in Kabul and adjoining areas in small numbers.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Purnota: Chapter Three

“Did you ask for me, Dadu?” Bondita asked as the old man smiled at her. She looked fresh, with her hair neatly braided and a cotton pleated skirt, Thamma sewn with a faded top of one of her cousins, as she stood before the old man sitting on the porch. “Yes indeed, Didibhai, you didn’t come for chess yesterday.” The man smiled. “Oh, Pradhan Jyatha wanted me to look out for the …” She stopped as she saw Aniruddha walking towards them down the corridor. She eyed him as the old man followed her gaze. “Oh Aniruddha Babu, come here. This is Bondita Das.” Aniruddha smiled at the child as she looked away. “She is the only girl in the village who has appeared for her final examinations this year. She is very intelligent and…” Aniruddha nodded “She helped me a lot yesterday.” He made her look up, with a cold stare at him as he smiled politely. “Yes, I have called her here to show you around the village. He wants to see the affected areas of the Adivasis, Bondita.” The old man made her nod. “But...

Purnota: Chapter Four

The group of youth provided by the Pradhan proved efficient for Aniruddha’s liking as they helped him survey the villages, create a set of data and provide a rough idea of how much fund was needed to rebuild the roofs and fallen walls. “What if we make them permanent? That way, the next cyclone will cause less damage. Pakka houses may also get other facilities like toilets and…” Aniruddha suggested as his eyes shone in the flickering light of the dimly lit kerosene lamp in the living room of Pradhan’s house. Drops of perspiration had formed on his forehead in the load-shedding, and the mosquitoes buzzed around them. For the first two nights, Aniruddha could barely sleep in the unfamiliar surroundings with buzzing insects, sounds of the unknown, and eerie animals here and there at a distance. Stories of snakes climbing up to the second floor through windows despite the mosquito net protecting his four-poster bed kept him alarmed. By the third day, after a day’s survey through the villag...

Towards You

The Afghans, after Sher Shah Suri's untimely demise, were at loggerheads for power. Their troops near Mewar were now led by Mehmood Shah. They secretly captured territories in the forests and waited to attack Mewari camps when the time was right. Rawat Chundawat and his spies had confirmed the news, and Udai Singh sent a warning to Mehmood Shah to withdraw his troops from Mewar in vain. Now that it was out in the open, it was time they declared war. Mehmood Shah had limited resources in Mewar. His internal rebellion against his commander did not help his cause. 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. It was then that one of his aides suggested a perfect plan. Maharani Jaivanta Bai had decided to go to the Mahakaleshwar Temple near the outskirts of Chittorgarh, in the forestlands of Bhilwara. They had travelled a long way and across the Gambhiri river that meandered during...

A Heart at War

Legend has it that Pratap had to struggle for his father Rana Udai Singh's approval on his wedding with the daughter of Bijoliya's chieftain's daughter, Ajbante Kanwar Punwar. It is so because he was the crown prince and his first queen was supposed to be the next queen of Mewar. Hence his father expected his first bride to be a powerful princess who would aid his political needs. But stubborn as he always was, Kunwar Pratap had other plans. The water of the Bhimlat was still. The sound of the waterfall could be heard in the silent afternoon in the dense forest. A pebble caused ripples in the water and alerted the horse gazing nearby. He looked up at the source of the stone. Then began grazing peacefully once again. The source of the stone however was far from being peaceful. His face wore a frown as he stared around restlessly for the umpteenth time. He sat unmindful on the large rock on the bank of the water body watching the ripples closely, lost in thoughts. The soun...

Purnota: Chapter Six

Kalindi waited outside the hut, on the torn mat they usually slept on, using the hand fan to drive away mosquitoes as she stared at the empty path leading out of the house, the path Bondita had taken some time back. It was almost an hour. Did the foolish girl escape or land in trouble? To her relief, she could hear her nephew snoring away indoors, reassuring her that they were at least not caught by the villagers till now. She was sure Bondita would return empty-handed and hurt, and that she would have no other way than to accept the proposal from the Pradhan. That morning, her Kaka would accompany Sarkar Moshai to the adjacent village to talk to a family friend of the Sarkars. They were looking for a bride for their sixteen-year-old eldest son, who worked as a labourer in Sealdah. Kalindi had tears in her eyes. Not much had changed in these years; not much of women’s fate was different, wasn't it? Kalindi was about ten years old when her father took her to the Roy Chowdhury house ...

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 ...

Purnota: Chapter Five

Aniruddha finished reading the book he had carried with him in the dim light of the bulb in his room and decided to pack it away. He was leaving in a few days and wanted to make sure he left nothing behind. The construction work on the school had started, and the Panchayat wanted to give him a thankful farewell he humbly refused. The spotlight should be on Trilochon to help with his next election campaign. Aniruddha did not want to associate himself with the party or the job. He contemplated going back home and telling his father that he had decided to pursue a career in India instead of his initial plan of going back to London. He had been giving it a thought for quite some time, and the day he said it out loud to Bondita, he knew in his subconscious mind he had already decided on it. The more he saw the village, the more sure he was that he was needed by his countrymen. Dadu put faith in him that he could be part of something bigger than himself and his career, and he intended to kee...

Purnota: Prologue

2008. Kolkata. The autumnal rain swept across the gravelled streets of Kolkata. In the darkest hour of the night, the occasional thunder rumbled across the sky, now covered in thick grey clouds. The street lights reflected on them as though a shower of golden light was flooding the streets of South Kolkata. It was widely believed that such torrential rain with thunderstorms just before the Durga Puja was a sign of Maa Durga having a marital spat with Baba Mahadev, whose possessiveness and love for his wife made him want to stop her from coming home with the four children for the five-day extravaganza. The rain was her tears, and the thunder rolls were the arguments between husband and wife. Such was the tale told by grandmothers across Bengal when the children flocked around her, scared of the thunder god’s wrath.  As the raindrops suddenly changed course and rushed into the room of the boarding house near Southern Avenue with a sudden gust of wind, she was jolted from this romanti...

Purnota: Chapter One

“The cyclone that hit Bangladesh on May 2nd, 1994, has left parts of Bangladesh and Myanmar devastated. Landslides have been seen in and around Northeast India, and Dumdum Airport has resumed its function after two days. Fishermen are still prohibited from going into the sea. The winds reached up to 215 km/h…” The men grunted at the radio news while sitting on the bench of the tea stall in Kobi Bharat Chandra Road in Chandannagar. One of the older men put away the Ananda Bazar Patrika, picking up his glass of tea while some of the others looked through a notebook. One of them had thick spectacles on and a pen tucked behind his ear while the younger ones smoked cigarettes and debated about the India-Pakistan match at Sharjah, which Pakistan once again won by thirty-nine runs. “I am telling you, Poritosh Da, they cheated.” A young man said, letting out smoke. “No way they could have won the final had it not been at Sharjah.” “Oh, stop your theories. Nobody except Kambli stood up to them ...

Purnota: Chapter Two

“The car will not go beyond this point, Choto Malik .” The driver’s words forced Aniruddha to step out, and his feet landed in mud. “The wheels will get stuck. It seems like it rained a lot yesterday.” The driver added as he inspected the road in the dim light of the setting dusk.    “How far is the house?” Aniruddha frowned, contemplating. “I can walk.” “This is just the beginning of the area; we have to look for it.” The driver shrugged. “Should I bring out your luggage?” Aniruddha sighed. He had a trolley and a bag. How could he walk with them in the mud? Leaving the car there was not safe either. “Who are you looking for?” The childish voice came through the silence around them, though nobody could be seen. Aniruddha looked around, and so did the alarmed driver. “Whose house are you searching for?” The voice was heard again. The driver jumped back a few steps, saying, “ Bh… Bh… Bhoot… ” “What?” Aniruddha shook his head as the man looked scared “There is no such thing as…” ...