“Love is best expressed in actions rather than words.”
Rukaiya Sultana Begum had accompanied her
mother-in-law, Bega Begum, and Hamida Banu Begum to the garden of Babur. The occasion was indeed special. After years
of struggle, Humayun had won back parts of Lahore against the Suris. It was a
long stretch of difficult days that had finally seen some sunshine. Rukaiya,
clad in fuchsia pink silk attire embroidered with gold and pearls, appeared
before the marble tomb of her late Grandfather, of whom she had only heard
tales. Rukaiya knelt before the tomb to offer her prayers of thanks and
gratitude. She knew that today, Jalal would be happy. He had not accompanied
his overprotective father and Bairam Khan at war, but was under the care of
his tutors instead, near Lahore. It was he who had sent a messenger with the
happy news to his mothers. The ladies were relieved. At last, Babur’s dreams
were coming true.
Rukaiya Begum was happy for a different
reason altogether. The messenger had informed that the Padshah Ghazi would be
arriving at the Lahore Palace with the Shehzaade in a few days, and his Harem
was expected there for a welcome and a celebration before they headed back to
Kabul. The preparations were going on for a long journey, and Rukaiya Begum’s
heart fluttered. Unlike the others,
Rukaiya always loved being on the move. Yes, roads were difficult, and sometimes the
food was scarce and the terrain hot, but it gave her a sense of freedom from the
Harem boundaries. She had already made up her mind to watch the winding roads
and changing terrains on the way to Lahore and see if they matched her
imagination of how Jalal described them. Lahore, as he had said, was a city she
would love.
The caravans and horses had to stop at a
clearing for the night. The light of dusk was turning shades darker, and the
ladies stepped out of their caravans to move into the rather simple tents that
had been put up for the night. One of the soldiers came to Hamida Banu Begum to
inform the Padishah Begum that the Shehzaada Azeem Jalaluddin Mohammad was in
the same forest on his way to the city, and he would join them for the rest of
the journey at dawn. Rukaiya Begum heard them speak from behind the curtains of
her tent and smiled. Soldiers were guarding the tents, while a fire was lit in
front of each tent to keep the animals away. They said there were occasional
attacks by wild boars and leopards in the area. Rukaiya Begum’s maid Zeenat, who
was perhaps a little older than her, smiled, reassuring the princess to sleep in
peace, for she had a dagger with her, and she had been in the service of a Rajput
Princess once who had taught her self-defence.
“They teach girls warfare, too?” Rukaiya Begum frowned at her words.”What will
they do learning such an art?”
“They fight too, I have heard Shehzadi
Begum,” Zeenat spoke as she braided Rukaiya’s hair.
“With men?” Rukaiya’s eyebrows raised in
awe, and Zeenat shrugged.
“So you can use this dagger to kill anyone
who can harm you?” She asked eagerly, scrutinising the weapon Zeenat had placed
beside her.
“I can try.” Zeenat smiled.
“Then you can save me from any trouble as
well?”
“Of course, Shehzaadi Begum.” Zeenat did not
show even a hint of doubt.
“Then let’s go.” Rukaiya Begum grabbed her hand, making Zeenat look scared.
“Where to, Shehzaadi? It is dark outside, and the area is forestland.”
“I want to see how the water looks in the
moonlight, on the darkest night.” Rukaiya’s eyes twinkled. “I heard the water
body is nearby.”
“But Shehzaadi, we can see the same in the
pools of our cities.” Zeenat reasoned.
“It is not the same, Zeenat. Ja... Shehzade
Azeem said that the scenes of nature are so different and they make you
feel...” Rukaiya Begum stopped to recollect his exact words.
“But there are guards outside.” Zeenat was
scared.
“We can escape through the back, slit open
a part of the tent with your Dagger, Zeenat!” Rukaiya Begum had never been free
before; the thought of freedom excited her. “Hurry up. We will return before
dawn.”
“The soldiers said there are wild animals, Shehzaadi.”
“They are just trying to scare you.”
Rukaiya Begum reasoned, “Have you heard a single animal since we arrived? I do
not think so.”
“But Shehzaadi, if we are caught...”
“ Zeenat, if the daughters of Hind can be
brave just the way you said they are, to fight with men, against men, why
should we, the descendants of the great Timur, be afraid?” Rukaiya Begum had
convinced the scared maid.
The night was eerie, and Rukaiya Begum
shivered a little as the wind brushed past her skin. In her hurry, she had
forgotten her Pashmina Shawl at the tent. Zeenat immediately offered her own,
but it would not be befitting of a Timurid Princess to wear the shawl of a
maid. Rukaiya Begum refused politely.
They had found the water body after struggling to walk through the forests
for nearly half an hour. Zeenat kept looking back, turning the small torch she
carried, making Rukaiya Begum frown. Soon, the torch too was out of oil. Rukaiya
Begum gasped at the sight in front of her eyes. The water of the lake shone
like a thousand pearl drops, making a veil on the water. The breeze was calm;
there was freedom in the air.
She sat down as Zeenat kept insisting she go back. Rukaiya Begum snatched the dagger from her waist with a carefree
giggle and assured Zeenat that there was no one to fear there, except each
other. She sat down on a rock and sighed. She did not know how much time had
passed; perhaps an hour or so as the night grew darker. There was a sudden
rustling of leaves that alerted Zeenat, and she reached for the dagger in the
case to find it missing. Alarmed, she shouted, “ Shehzaadi, run!”
Rukaiya Begum could hardly react to the
light of the moon as she saw a pair of shining eyes in the bushes. “Run!”
Zeenat’s voice reached her ears. She grabbed the dagger and gulped.
Through the thorns and rocks in the forest
path, Rukaiya Begum ran. She had no idea where she was going, away from the
camp or towards it, as she heard a wild animal grunting, and the helpless cry of
Zeenat rang through the forest. Sweating in nervousness, her hand shivering on
the dagger, she ran, fearing the group of wild animals would perhaps be on the
chase. She could not even imagine what had become of Zeenat. Suddenly, her foot
tripped on a branch, and she fell face down on the ground. The ground was
shaking with the sound of animals running towards her. In dismay and fear,
Rukaiya shrieked. A few inches from her, an ear-deafening gunshot from a
matchlock made the wild beast grunt its way down the side of the tree and
disappear into the forest. Rukaiya lay still in her position as she saw a
torchlight in the distance and the sound of approaching hooves. Holding on to
her dagger in fear of the unknown, she managed to sit up.
Shehzaada Jalaluddin Mohammad was oiling
his most prized possession at his campsite fire, a matchlock gifted by his
father. Hearing of his interest in shooting, the Padshah Ghazi had himself
brought the matchlock for his son. He was happy that he would meet the ladies
soon. He could not wait for dawn to greet his mothers. A sudden shriek of a
girl and a grunt of wild animals alerted him. Somebody was in trouble. He had
immediately sent his men down to the lake, but something in him was restless.
So he pulled his horse and set off in the opposite direction, towards the
Timurid encampment.
Jalal had managed to stop his galloping
horse just in time with Rukaiya on the floor of the forest, staring at his
torch like a ghost. He noticed her handshake on a dagger she held
firmly. A sudden fit of rage ran through Jalal. He got down from his horse and
dragged a teary-eyed Rukaiya up on her feet. Her limbs felt weak, and she leaned
against his body slightly as he dragged her by her upper arm towards his horse.
He noticed the bruises on her forehead, cheeks and arms; her clothes were tattered
by the thorns and mud on her face. He lifted the sobbing princess onto his horse
and ran it through the forest towards the camp.
Rukaiya Begum could not believe her eyes
when she saw him, but before she could react, his eyes spoke of rage as he
lifted her up forcefully and dragged her towards his horse. The rest of the
events happened in a trance for Rukaiya as Jalal woke up the entire camp with
his voice and commands. She was taken into Hamida Banu Begum’s tent, bathed,
changed, and a Fakir Baba was called to check on her. As soon as she could
speak, overcoming the turmoil of events, she asked about Zeenat. No one
answered her properly. But their faces said it all. She stared at the dagger on
the bedside table with teary eyes. Jalal’s voice had jolted her. Never had she
seen him so angry, so upset. He had even behaved irrationally with the medicine
man. What hurt Rukaiya more was that ever since they came to camp, till midday, Jalal did not come to her tent even once. She kept staring at the curtains to
part in vain as all the ladies came to ask about her health. Hamida Banu had
scolded her sternly. She had indeed acted impulsively and foolishly. Hamida
left with a pat on her head, which made her cry again. She had disappointed
everyone and acted in such an unroyal manner that it cost Zeenat her life.
Rukaiya Begum refused to eat, for every
time she saw the maids in waiting, it reminded her of Zeenat and made her want
to cry. Almost at dusk, while she had dozed off with a book of poems of Rumi in
her hands, she felt a gentle touch on her forehead. Slowly opening her eyes, she
saw Jalal sitting by her bedside. At first, Rukaiya Begum thought that she was
hallucinating because of the heavy medications. Jalal would not possibly smile
at her; she had angered him. Then, realising that his touch was indeed real,
Rukaiya Begum sat up, startled.
“Easy.” Jalal commanded, watching her jump
up from her sleep, “You are weak.” Rukaiya could not help but notice that he had
brought a plateful of fruits with him. Pushing the plate towards her, he spoke
with authority, “You need to be fit by dawn so we don't delay the journey any
further. The news won’t reach the Padshah Ghazi if we do not arrive late. There
has been enough trouble already.” As soon as she touched the plate, Jalal got up
to walk away, as Rukaiya held him back by his hand.
“I am sorry.” She choked on the coming
tears, “I truly am.”
Jalal sighed, closing his eyes, and then
turned to face her, sitting at her bedside.
“Do you have any idea the kind of thoughts
everyone went through because you were missing?” Rukaiya fell silent at his
words, staring at him.
“Do you have any idea what I felt when I
saw you there? I nearly lost you.” His last words came almost like a surge of
emotional waves in his ocean of calmness. “No, you only think about yourself.”
“That is not true.” Rukaiya Begum murmured
a soft protest, “I went to see if the lake looked the way you told me it does. I
wanted to feel the way you do. Please. Do not be angry with me. Please, Jalal.”
Jalal stared at her for a brief moment and
shook his head, “If you knew the way I feel, Rukaiya Begum, you would not have
seen only my rage.” There was a certain longing in his voice. Rukaiya Begum
stared at him as he left her tent and sat in silence for a brief moment. She knew
not when Jalal had started feeling so deeply for her; she had thought it was
only she who felt that way for him. Lost in her thoughts, Rukaiya Begum blushed
as they prepared to leave for Lahore soon.
Humayun established his dominance on the Lahore Fort towards the beginning of 1556 or the end of 1555 and began his march towards Delhi soon after. The Lahore Fort, originally inhabited by Babur’s harem, was taken over by a small and insignificant number of members from Humayun’s own before he won over Delhi. Lahore came back to importance when Akbar shifted his harem there, and the majority of his ladies remained in the Lahore fort, which acted as his second capital after Fatehpur Sikri/Agra.
