“True Love grows slowly, in the tender heart, like a sapling
grows into a tree.
It is this love that survives all storms.”
It was dusk when Kunwar Partap was alerted
by the sound of a familiar anklet walking towards his guest quarters. He
stopped shining his sword and turned to see Kunwar Shakta at his threshold with
a very reluctant Ajbante Kanwar in tow. She was nervous from the looks of it,
and unlike all the other times, her dupatta was not laid over her head, and her
hair was neatly tied in a braid, falling over one side of her shoulder while
her dupatta occupied the other side.
“I wanted you to hear what Baisa has to
say, Dadabhai.” It was Kunwar Shakta who met his approving nod and entered his
room as she stood at the threshold.
“Come in.” He spelt it out for her,
making her look up from the carpet momentarily at his face before she crossed
the threshold and entered his chambers. Ajbante Baisa could not help but notice the
small idol of Mata Bhavani that was kept in a corner of his chamber and smiled.
Kunwar Shakta offered her a seat on the couch while he occupied the bed, and
Kunwar Partap stood leaning on the side of the bed, waiting. Ajbante refused the
offer to sit, in silence and stood a little unsure.
“What is it that you wanted to talk of?”
Kunwar Partap’s voice was monotonous as he addressed his brother.
“Baisa came to me with a very valid point
we happened to miss out on altogether. So I thought you should hear her out.”
Kunwar Shakta spoke. Kunwar Partap eyed the silent girl and urged his brother
to continue.
“She thinks we should not go to Daajiraj
with the peace suggestions.”
“Why not?” Kunwar Partap frowned at the
words and turned to the girl, asking the question himself. He had assumed in the
conversation at the hall that it was Ajbante Baisa who had convinced
her father of the peace talk, much before he came with the proposal. What was it
that made her feel otherwise? Kunwar Shakta urged Ajbante to speak. She cleared
her throat, carefully choosing her words.
“Pardon me if I am wrong, Kunwarsa, but I
feel he or his close aides may feel that his sons are going against their
father and his respect, with this.” Kunwar Partap knew what she was talking about.
The differences between his parents and his father’s inclination toward some
women in his Ranimahal were known all across Mewar. He could think his sons were plotting against him, especially with his constant
turmoil with Kunwar Shakta. He stared at the girl in awe. This possibility had
escaped his mind completely.
“So what do you suggest?” Ajbante Kanwar
was taken aback by his words. She was sure that he would be angry or irritated
with her opinion on their personal equation with their father. That is why she
chose to speak to Kunwar Shakta instead, and here he was asking for her
suggestion.
“I....” Her mouth felt dry. “What will I
say?”
“Tell us what you think, Rajkumarisa.”
Kunwar Shakta urged.
“Kunwarsa.” She turned to Kunwar Shakta, “I
feel... Daata and Mamasa should go instead, as representatives of Bijoliya and
Salumber, not the Princes of Mewar.”
“So be it then.” Kunwar Partap had turned
to Kunwar Shakta “We will tell them so at dinner.”
“I will go write to Maasa and forbid her
from telling anyone that we met them.” Kunwar Shakta spoke in urgency, “They
should know you and I are at Mandalgarh, right, Dadabhai?”
With an approving nod from Kunwar Partap,
Kunwar Shakta walked out of his chambers. Ajbante Baisa turned to follow him out.
Kunwar Partap watched them leave and sighed at the empty room, hearing the
sound of her anklets fading in the corridor.
Ajbante Baisa was making her way to the
nearest temple of Lord Shiva, at the break of dawn. Her mind was preoccupied
with thoughts of the discussion that had happened at dinner. The senior officials,
Rawat Chundawat and Rao Ramrakh, would be heading to Chittorgarh in two days to
propose a peace treaty. The speaking of the Princes against their father’s plan
of war could be treated as a breach of conduct by the Rana. Rawat Chundawat
felt that they should stay put and not inform anyone of their meeting, just as
Kunwar Shakta suggested.
Ajbante Baisa was worried. She hoped that Rana understood their worries. Everyone wanted the best for Mewar. Her
heart was restless with the worries of the consequences if the Rana
misinterpreted the intentions of either the princes or her father. She had
heard of days when Maharani Jivanta Bai had walked out of the palace with
eleven-year-old Kunwar Partap with her and stayed in hardship over a fallout with
her husband. Ajbante failed to understand what could cause such a rift between
them. Sometimes she felt politics was more than what she understood of it.
Kunwar Partap walked out of the temple
premises in his white dhoti and a yellow stole wrapped over his shoulders. He
was unmindful since Ajbante mentioned his father misinterpreting their
intentions. He hoped and prayed that Rana Udai Singh would ask his mother for her
advice on this, and his mother showed him a way. For Kunwar Partap knew how his
Ranima could read his mind. His thoughts wandered to another image. She rubbed
her hands in nervousness just like Ranima. Was it strange that Kunwar
Partap noticed it? He could not place why he was so restless ever since she had ignored him each time they were gathered at the hall the previous day. She also
seemed extremely formal in his chamber. Was it because she was no longer
interested in the past, or was it because of the scrutinising glances of the
family? Maybe because she wanted him to feel at ease at her home. Was it not
she who sent him those letters?
Before he knew it, at the turn behind the
temple premises, at the break of dawn, Kunwar Partap bumped into a veiled
figure, and the Lota (a type of pail) dropped from her hand, startling them both.
“Sorry…” Their hands stopped touching each
other simultaneously over the Lota as eyes met.
A soldier had arrived behind her, perhaps
alerted by the noise.
“Is everything all right, Hukum?” his words
made them look away.
“Yes. It’s just, this fell…” He spoke
before her, pointing at the lota he had picked up.
The soldier walked away as she extended her
hand rather silently for the utensil. He frowned a little, confused, then
immediately gave it to her, murmuring “I didn’t see…”
“Umm… same here.” They stood, about half a foot away from each other, in silence.
“I…could not tell it yesterday... but...”
He stopped thinking, carefully choosing his words, “...I really appreciate that
you think the peace talk…” He smiled faintly, looking away. There weren’t many
who thought the same.
“I hope Daata Hukum and Mamasa succeed in
this agenda.” She smiled faintly, staring at her own hands.
“Me too.” He said as she nodded with a
faint smile and turned to walk away.
“Ajbante.” Her heart skipped a beat at his
words, and she calmed her racing heart with a deep breath to turn and face him
again.
“Yes, Kunwarsa?”
“Thank you for the letters.” Kunwar Partap
was not sure if he wanted to say it just after it came out of his mouth. A
little wide-eyed Ajbante stared at his face, with a slightly open mouth and
gulped.
“I… I hope it helped, Kunwarsa.” She
managed not to fumble over it.
“It did. And…” Kunwar Partap stared at her
hands, tightened around the lota and back at her. “If you are free once your father
returns, Bhai Shakta and I will be discussing some strategies in case the war
happens. I assume he will invite you even if I don’t, but…” He stopped at her
surprised stare “I wanted to, myself.”
“I will be there.” Ajbante smiled politely
before walking away. Kunwar Partap returned the courtesy smile and watched her
go.
Back in his chambers, Kunwar Partap stared
at his own reflection in the mirror for a few seconds if he did not recognise the shadow of himself that fell on the mirror. He recollected whatever had happened in
the past few minutes and shook his head rather disapprovingly at his own
behaviour. Never before had he looked at a woman in the face and talked, let
alone noticed how her eyes were shaped like those of a doe, and her eyeballs
rolled in nervousness. He didn’t even apologise for the accidental touch. It
was so unlike him. Never had he thought he would mention the letters without
even being sure it was her, let alone “invite” her for some strategies. Really? What was wrong with him? She was
being perfectly courteous to him as a host, and perhaps it was he who was
crossing the lines. She perhaps didn’t refuse his offer out of politeness. He
did not need to do this, especially with Kunwar Shakta around. Was he thinking
too much?
“Maharanisa.” Her maid had arrived with one of the maids
from the quarters. Maharani Jivanta Bai looked up from her book and nodded approval for them to enter the chambers.
“Her name is Rashi. She has something to
tell you.” Jivanta Bai eyed the scared maid.
“I swear on Eklingji Ranisa, I did as I was
told by Kunwarsa.”
“What did Kunwarsa tell you?” Jivanta Bai
frowned. “You need not be scared.”
“Kunwarsa gave me a letter and told me to
take it to Bijoliya.”
“Bijoliya?” Maharani Jivanta Bai could not
help but notice how her maid looked a little amused.
“Yes, Maharanisa. I do not know what it
contains. Kunwarsa told me to hand it over to the girl who comes with letters
every week.”
“Someone from Bijoliya comes with a letter
each week? For Kunwar Partap?” Jivanta Bai raised her eyebrows, surprised.
“Yes, Maharanisa. I do not know who sent them. I am telling the truth.”
“You may go.” She smiled at the maid,
giving her a silver coin “Not a word on this to anyone.”
“Ji Ranisa," the maid left relieved as Koki
stood staring at her Maharanisa's smile.
“What do you think?” she asked a surprised
maid.
“I think your Kunwarsa is growing up, Maharanisa.” She saw the queen smile.
Ajbante’s heart raced as she ran down the
fairly empty corridor to her chambers and fell upon the cushions of the couch.
Her hair spread over her face, and her cheeks were warm and red. She couldn’t help
but smile. His scent still lingered on the tip of her fingers that had touched
his and had sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn’t help but notice his bare, well-built torso and arms before she looked away. Ajbante hid her face in
the cushions at her own thoughts. His brown eyes, awkward and calm, had a spark
of intelligence. She could not believe it, and as she decided to walk away to reduce
the awkwardness of the event, it was Kunwar Partap who stopped her to talk. He
invited her for a strategy-making session. He called her by her name. Ajbante
took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. Was he having a change of heart?
