The Aftermath

“Ruins do not only speak of carnage, and might. They also scream out a thousand unsaid emotions of the past.”

Ajbante Kanwar Baisa had never seen Kunwar Partap so visibly shaken. She feared his reaction. He had just reached Kumbhalmer from the outpost at Kelwara and she had been at the gates to welcome him. He had moved aside her aarti in silence and stared right into her eyes, making her heart skip a beat. She had followed his gaze to the entrance of the fort, where a badly injured Rajkumar Shallavan stood, helped by two soldiers. He had come from Chittorgarh. As soon as he was in sight, his wife, Maan Bai lost her composure and ran to him. Ajbante Kanwar watched Kunwar Partap walk away towards the courtroom, as she nodded at a more scared Pur Bai to take away Maan Bai to the inner palace and arrange the Gwalior prince’s first aid. They did not know what had happened. But it was something dreadful. She had thanked the Lord Eklingnath after a soldier came to say Kelwara was safe and Kunwarsa was returning home. She had happily arranged the aarti and the other wives got busy in the kitchen. It had totally skipped their mind, perhaps in the stress that Kelwara was not the target.

The last few years had been constantly stressful as the Turks gathered might. Rana Udai Singh rightfully held his nerve to refuse the alliances. Kunwar Partap was under constant move as well. Ajbante Kanwar had accompanied him, with her mother-in-law and his wives and children to Chappan. But when the war at Bogad was nearly lost, Ajbante Baisa felt the need to talk to her husband about the safety of the Ranimahal.

“We need to move somewhere safe, but close to you. I can’t risk the life of infants in this emergency situation.” He had spoken to Ranima and the ladies had left for Kumbhalmer. It has been almost a year and a half from then, that she had not seen him even once. Letters kept arriving, stating the manner of movement of the army and the issues and impending troubles at Chittorgarh. 

Her kin was there too. Her father, Rawat Chundawat, and some of Udai Singh’s lesser queens and princesses, all were left behind at Chittorgarh. Sometimes, Ajbante Kanwar feared the uncertainties. Then her warrior instincts kicked in, as she gathered the courage and smiled at the children. Their childhood and innocence were not to be compromised. She had promised that to Kunwarsa. More than once she had also reassured the ladies, that things were under control. After moving from Chappan to Bogad to Godwad, Kunwar Partap finally smelled victory very convincingly. It was exactly then that Chittorgarh was attacked.

Each of the forts and border outposts was under the constant threat of Akbar’s army in the past few months. They had left Chittor only a month before Akbar had camped there. Kunwar Partap must have regretted it sitting in his camps at night. Ajbante Baisa wished she was there to talk to him. He was alone. The chances were always slim. But what followed was not just a defeat. Ajbante Kanwar knew what Kunwar Partap felt, sitting there, in the courtroom of Kumbhalmer, wounded, both physically and mentally. He felt responsible for every word that Shallavan used to describe the siege of the fort. For the fall of Chittorgarh, for the Jauhar, and for the thousands of innocent lives that were taken in the massacre. And every piece of Chittor that was conquered and destroyed.

Ajbante Kanwar longed for home suddenly. As the names of the casualties were announced and it had the names of her father, and kin, her heart skipped a beat. She had wiped away the coming tears and feared in silence for the safety of Bijoliya, and her sister. Her mother was with her father at Chittorgarh, and she knew what had perhaps happened. It was no time to mourn for the Kunwarani of Mewar. Kunwar Shakta had been at Mandalgarh. Shallavan said he had changed sides. Kunwar Partap clenched his jaws. Was it the same brother who had warned him against these Turks? Ajbante knew what he was thinking. She felt restless like everything was crumbling before her eyes.

The other ladies felt scared and gasped at the news of the mass immolation. She knew she had a task at hand. She immediately ordered the wounded to be treated and food to be served. She escorted Shallavan’s wife, Princess of Mewar, Maan Bai, to her room, with her infant child, herself. She asked for the guards to be extra alert, especially around the children’s rooms at night. The fort was never safe from attacks, especially with Kunwar Partap and the army coming back. 

Ajbante herself carried her dagger around in the past few months, tucked under her veil all the time. And she made sure every lady was engaged in some work, so that they did not discuss the sudden news of Jauhar, especially around the clueless children. She inspected the kitchen area and saw Jasobai taking care of dinner for the night. Champabai and Phool Kanwar Baisa were at the ration house, checking the stock as she had instructed. She was walking down the corridor unmindful when the sound of carefully measured footsteps behind her, alerted her senses making her stop.

“Maasa.” Bhanwar Amar Singh had asked softly “Have we lost the war?”

“No Amar.” Ajbante could see the boy was visibly disturbed by the things he heard at court. “We just lost a battle, the war goes on.” She had forced a smile at him gently.

“When does the war end Maasa?” He asked with a frown.

She knew he had badly wanted to accompany his father. But he was just ten, and even when he had managed to kill a few looters single-handedly when he was barely eight, the mother’s love had perhaps won over the insecurities. Ajbante had held his hand, as he begged to go with his father. As proud as she was of him, her Amar had a long way to go still.

“The war ends when we win it.” She had patted his head gently “Understood?”

“So we fight unless we win?” He had asked, his eyes shining.

“Yes” Or die. Ajbante smiled at her child “Go get your brothers and sisters. Majali Maasa will serve your dinner.”

“Where are you going?” He had frowned holding the corner of her veil.

“I will be there to tell you all the bedtime tales. Now go.” This convinced the boy and he ran through the Ranimahal towards the kitchen areas.

With a sigh, Ajbante Kanwar walked out of the Ranimahal into the corridors. Kunwar Partap had refused treatment from the Vaid. The helpless old medicine man was about to leave when Kunwarani Ajbante Kanwar intercepted him and took away the pail of balm.

She had entered the room silently. He did not look up. She placed the pail down between them as she sat down beside him and took his injured arm in her hand. Blood was still oozing out and he did not even wince. 

She took a small portion of balm on her fingertips and was about to apply it when he shook off her hand, “Leave me alone.”

“Don’t be stubborn, you will get an infection. These are sword wounds.” She had said softly and started applying the balm.

“I have failed Ajab, haven’t I?” His eyes shone as his voice trembled. She looked up at him, as colour flushed from her face.

“I have failed miserably to protect my land and its people.”

“That’s not true.” Ajbante Kanwar slowly placed her hand in his. “You have been brave, you have won the outposts at Kelwara and...”

“It doesn’t matter!” He had cut her short “It doesn’t matter when you can’t stop a Jauhar!”

“Kunwarsa!” She had been firm “You were not there, what would you have done?”

“I should have been there. I should have been taking the arrows instead of Patta, Rawatji, Rao Jaimal and your father. I should have been there to stare Akbar in the eyes and face him.” Ajbante Kanwar hugged him in an impulse as if he was her last anchor, she could not lose him. She wept, as realisation hit him. She had lost her family in that war.

“Ajab.” He sounded worried” You want me to send people over to Bijoliya and get your sister...”

“No. You have other tasks at hand.” She wiped away her tears quickly “I will write to her with condolence, and do a peace haven for Daata. He had been brave. If she says she doesn’t feel safe I will arrange for something...”

“Are you sure? If I can do anything...” He had asked admiring how strong she was.

“Kunwarsa. Mewar needs you, we all need you. You were not there because it was a lost battle. You are born to win the war.” Her eyes shone with pride, and faith in his capabilities. He stared at her for a brief moment as she went back to dressing his injuries.

“Do you still believe that I can...” his voice was unsure.

“If anyone can Kunwarsa, it is you.” Ajbante Baisa spoke, “I never doubted it.”

“Kunwarsa, Khamma Ghani. Maharanisa has summoned you.” The guard had bowed and left. Kunwar Partap looked at Ajbante who nodded placing her hand gently on his shoulder.

The Maharani of Mewar had asked to be left alone, with her son. It had been over an hour that they had been in conversation and everyone was worried. The Mahal was unusually quiet. The walls mourned perhaps, the bloodshed thousands of miles away.

Ajbante Baisa had gathered the children in a room. Bhanwar Chand, Bhanwar Amar, Bhanwar Sahas, Bhanwar Kalyan, Asha Bai, Sukh Bai, and Rama Bai sat eagerly in their places as Ajbante Baisa walked in.

“Badima tell us the tale of Rana Sanga.” “No, tell us the tale of Rana Kumbha.”

“No no tell us how Daata Hukum killed Shams Khan! I love that!”

Ajbante placed Kunwari Sukh on her lap while the rest of the children surrounded her, gathering close.

“Today we will hear the tale of a defeat. And the Jauhar of your Pardadisa Rani Karnavati.” She had made the children frown. Bhanwar Amar stared at his mother, visibly disturbed. The other children were still confused.

“But why a defeat Badima?” Bhanwar Chand frowned. “We love the stories where we win.”

“We don’t always win every battle, Chand.” She smiled at him, eyeing Amar. “But it is very important that we learn how to deal with losses.”

Kunwar Partap had stopped hearing Ajbante Kanwar narrate a tale as the children sat around her.

“... for every greater good, some initial setbacks are always on the cards. We must learn to use them as our strengths and not let them be our weaknesses. We should always trick the enemy with mind games.”

“Maasa.” Amar Singh interrupted her with admiration “How do you know all of this? You have never been to battlefields.”

“We all have our own battlefields, Amar, that’s how people win in life.” She had smiled at her child. “We all have our own experiences and discoveries. What startled you today was your first step towards life.”

Kunwar Partap stood for a moment watching his children listen to her. He then took a deep breath, made a decision and crossed the threshold. The children stood up to greet him and the Kunwarani frowned.

“I am leaving tomorrow.” His words of determination made her smile faintly. “We have a lot more camps to cover.”

“Can I come too?” They both stared at Amar speak “I can fight; Daata Hukum please let me come.”

Kunwar Partap had patted his head with a proud smile. He then stared at his mother and back at the boy.

“Your day will come too my boy, and that day I know you will make us proud. Just not this time. All right?” Amar nodded a little disappointed.

He had walked away from the Ranimahal as she stared out of the window of her room, in the darkness. She had wept for her kins. And wiped away the tears, fearing they made her weak again. A veil of stars covered the dark night sky, with the huge stone walls of the fort visible at a distance. Small torches moved on them, as soldiers kept vigil. Ajbante Kanwar sighed. Something told her this was just the beginning of a great battle she had to fight, alongside him, just not the way he perhaps did with the sword. Fighting her emotions, fears and insecurities, for her people, her family and he was perhaps a battle greater than she ever imagined. She promised herself, staring at Mewar in the darkness, that she would always be the warrior he had fallen in love with, with or without the sword.

The Seize of Chittorgarh in 1567-68 went on for four months and was the only battle with Mewar that Akbar himself was present at. The Jauhar and Saka at Chittor had the largest number of casualties which was followed by a massacre by the Mughals. The historical evidence is very weak on the movement of Kunwar Partap during this time. He was present at the fort even after his father left but absent when Akbar arrived. He was posted at Chappan, Kelwara and Kumbhalgarh outposts from where he had fought the attacking Mughal armies. He is again noted in 1571, winning back some parts of Mewar under the last year of UdaiSingh’s reign. It is here that Shallavan Singh of Gwalior, the only survivor of the siege and Chandrasen of Marwar wanted to ally with him which he politely turned down stating that his father was still the Rana. However, he took their help in strengthening his armies once Udai Singh accepted so.

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