The Menage

“Sometimes it is difficult times that bring two hearts closer.”

Ajbante Kanwar had least expected Ranisa Sajja Bai to visit her on the autumn afternoon. Amar Singh, barely two, had managed to smile and walk up to her, saying “Dadisa!” which attracted the attention of the Kunwarani, busy knitting a woollen piece for her child. She had stood up in a hurry, letting the ball of wool run across the floor, and Amar Singh ran after it, trying to catch the ball in his usual playful mood.

“Hai Eklingnath!” The Kunwarani was visibly embarrassed as Sajja Bai smiled, amused. She was gathering the wool off the floor when she called on her maid-in-waiting and said, “Take Bhanwarji for a walk.” Amar Singh happily waved the two ladies goodbye.

Sajja Bai sat on the couch and looked around the room. It smelled sweet from the flowers Kunwarani had handpicked for her vase. She had kept the room extremely tidy for a handful of two-year-olds' mothers.

“I thought I should come here, myself.” She spoke, making Ajbante Baisa frown a little. “To talk to you.”

Ajbante Kanwar knew what this was about. Ranima had called upon her at dawn to talk of alliances and tell her what the future held. The palace grapevines had informed her of a pending alliance long before. With danger lurking around the corner, Udai Singh had to ensure his allies were still with him. And to ensure that politically, the price was that of marriages. She knew, as an heir, Kunwar Partap would eventually bring home a bride. Actually, more than one. And the grapevines speculated. The lesser queens had their bets on Kunwar Partap. When he would finally give in to his father’s policies, and who he would bring home. This time, the rumours were right, or so Ajbante gathered from the way Ranima spoke. She, however, did not mention anything about the bride-to-be. She sat down beside the queen. Truth be said, Rani Sajja Bai loved this girl; she knew it. And much like Ranima and Kunwar Partap, she too feared what might hurt her. That is perhaps why she wanted the conversation.

“When I was married to Rana ji at Kumbhalmer...” Her voice sounded distant “Jija had only walked into the rani mahal a few months ago, and she was pregnant with Kunwar Partap. I was barely fourteen, a scared princess, and she was sixteen, perhaps equally scared. She never showed, though. Mewar was in turmoil. Ranaji was at war most of the time. For most of my early days, I had been with Jija. Truth be told, I am perhaps closer to her than to my husband. He never stayed. He was always...” Sajja Bai sighed. She found Kunwarani Ajbante Kanwar holding her hand lightly, her eyes beaming. “... The only reason this place ever felt like home had always been Jija. She never made me feel alone; she loved Shakta as much as she loves Kunwarsa. But... You see, Ajbante Baisa, from where I see, Jija or you have been lucky. At least, you have had time, when you call him only yours.”

“Whom did they choose?” Her question made Sajja Bai stare at her with admiration. She had waited calmly for the answer.

“You remember I talked to you about my kin brother...” Ranisa Sajja Bai cleared her throat “His daughter... Pur Baisa is...fifteen perhaps...”

“When is the alliance due?” Ajbante Kanwar had asked to nod.

“Next week, at Kumbhalmer. Ranaji will go there.” She spoke a little uncertainly, trying to read her reaction.

 “Baisa...” Ranisa had held her hand and spoken sincerely, “You can tell me how you feel.”

Could she? Did Ajbante Kanwar herself know how exactly she should feel? Ranima had said that she had sent Kunwar Partap a letter on both their behalf, for the alliance, before informing her. In a way, it was to remind her that she had no opinion on this, then how did what she felt matter now? Ajbante Kanwar knew Ranima, too, had her hands tied, with rules, responsibilities and uncertainties. But could she gather her thoughts into words to tell anyone how she felt? She placed her hand over the queen’s and smiled a faint smile. Rani Sajja Bai knew this feeling, or perhaps not. For she had never had a doting husband and loving father to her children like Ajbante Kanwar had in Kunwar Partap. Their story was different. She was, in a way, glad that the emotional attachment of their relationship was less. Because Ajbante Kanwar’s eyes spoke a lot more than her words could.

Kunwar Partap had thrown away the hundredth piece of paper, rolling it up in a ball, in his small tent, at Kelwara. He looked restless, trying to gather his thoughts. The instructions from Ranima were clear.

“We need to do this for Mewar. Kunwarani Baisa thinks so too.” For Mewar. What about... His hand traced the blotted name on the paper on his desk. Did he actually have any words to write to her? How could he face her taking home a new bride?

Ajbante Kanwar was scared of the expectations that were thrown her way. For her to be as good to the new bride as the Maharani was to Rani Sajja, for her to be happy for her husband’s alliance, and worse, to never show any sadness over it. She was unsure of her own emotions. Yes, she had joked about alliances and knew this day would eventually come, but as convincing as she sounded in her words and mind, her heart was in the doldrums. Ranisa Sajja had left her alone to reflect on her thoughts. She sat down with ink and paper and found no words. Restless, she had picked up a playful and clueless Amar Singh and hugged him close. The empty feeling refused to leave. She kissed her child, who hugged her back tightly.

A week later, the whole Ranimahal at Chittorgarh was busy, with preparations to welcome the new bride. Ranima had thrown a lot of responsibilities her way, perhaps to train her right, the next time around. She had overlooked the decorations of the new bride’s room, the feast to be laid was decided by her, and she had even chosen the gifts to be given away to the kin. In a way, keeping her busy made Ajbante Kanwar feel comfortable. The idle mind gave way to thoughts. But each night, she had traced the features of Amar Singh that resembled his father, admiringly, smiling a melancholy smile and holding him close. It was as though with each passing day, she felt a little distant from Kunwar Partap.

She scrutinised all the arrangements one last time and headed towards Maharani’s chamber to report, only to find someone saying, “They are here.” Ajbante Kanwar’s heart ached for a moment, there was a lump in her throat that refused to go and colour flushed from her face. She gulped and breathed in quickly before somebody read her face and then walked towards the entrance of the Ranimahal, pulling the veil over her face.

Kunwar Partap’s eyes lingered for a moment longer than usual as they met hers. She had stepped forward to take the new bride to the Ranimahal, as Kunwar Partap handed her his stole. Hands touched beneath the cloth, and he had never felt so awkward around her before. He had looked away. She took the stole from him, wrapped it around the new bride and took her inside.

Once the merriment was over, she was told by the Maharani to take the new bride to rest in her room until dinner. It was then that she told the nervous girl, “You can now lift your veil.” She did as she was told, for the first time staring at whom her kin called ‘The competition’; she had the warmest smile.

“You like your room?” She had asked. The bride nodded affirmatively.

“I always used to tell Kunwarsa,” Ajbante Baisa had started a conversation while the maids helped her remove the heavy jewellery. “Get me a friend here, I am lonely. He is away most of the time, and Amar... Bhanwarji is a tough one to handle alone. You met him?” The bride nodded softly, unsure whether to speak or not.

“He is...” She was unsure of the right word.

“A bubble of energy.” Ajbante Kanwar had finished making her smile slightly. “Let’s decide what to call each other.”

“Kunwaranisa...” She spoke uncertainly.

“Jija.” Ajbante Kanwar’s words made her stare “That title is for everyone, but you and I are families.”

Pur Baisa, for the first time, felt connected to someone in the new place, as Ajbante Kanwar placed her hand over the bride’s cold ones.

“I know people here expect us to fight and plot against each other.” She spoke in an amused whisper, “Let’s surprise them, and be friends. I don’t have many. What do you say, Behena?” Her words made Pur Bai smile a genuine smile. “I don’t have friends either.”

Ajbante had smiled and hugged her. “Welcome to my family, Pur Baisa.”

“Can I ask you something... Jija?” She spoke as Ajbante Baisa nodded, helping the maids dress her up for the evening dinner.

“Does... umm... does Kunwarsa also feel we won’t get along?” She looked away, a little scared “I mean... he seems very strict and...” Pur Baisa stopped as Ajbante Kanwar shook her head with a smile. “He scared you, too, didn’t he?”

“Did he scare you as well?” Pur Baisa asked. Ajbante Baisa sat beside her, smiling, “Let me tell you a story.”

Rani Sajja Bai had walked in to find the two ladies engrossed in a conversation about Bhanwar Amar Singh, an hour after this. She had smiled, knowing they had bonded, and asked Ajbante Baisa to escort the bride to the dinner.

Kunwaranisa Ajbante stopped at her threshold and frowned, for it was late at night, and Amar Singh was sitting with his wooden sword and attacking a much amused Kunwar Partap, who feigned injury.

“Kunwarsa!” She had spoken in a tone that scared Amar, thinking his Maasa was scolding him. He pouted at Kunwar Partap and started crying.

“Look what you did, Ajab!” Kunwar Partap looked troubled “You made him cry.” He was about to pick up the crying boy when Ajbante Kanwar almost snatched him into her arms and said in a firm voice, “Go to your room, Kunwarsa.” Kunwar Partap saw her calm the child with pats and sways, which eventually made him yawn and hide his face in his mother’s neck, as he wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Didn’t you hear me?” She said softly this time, “Go to your room, Pur Baisa is waiting.”

“Don’t...” He had lowered his tone at Amar’s occasional sobs, “Don’t make this complicated, Ajab.”

“I am not Kunwarsa. You go to your room. Ranima has set you up there for the night; let me handle my child.”

“My child?” Kunwar Partap was agitated, “That’s what it’s come to in a week? My Child!” His voice made Amar wail as Ajbante Kanwar shot him a disapproving glare. A maid had arrived at the threshold along with Bhanwar’s Dhai, hoping the Kunwaranisa would need their help.

“Here.” She handed the crying child over to Dhai “Once he sleeps, bring him back to my room.”

“Yes, Kunwaranisa.” They had bowed and left.

She then turned to her irked husband and sounded equally irked, “What is wrong with you?”

“Wrong with me? What is wrong with you?” he sounded disappointed. “I was here spending some time with MY child. What’s your issue with that?”

“ Kunwarsa. Go to your room. I am extremely tired. Let’s not do this.” She looked away.

“I am in my room. People are dictating my life, my decisions and now even my time with my child.”

“No one is dictating anything to you.” She sighed, making him stare at her tired face “You can spend as much time with him as you want, tomorrow. But tonight, I am here to remind you of your duties and responsibilities. As much as you need to fulfil your duties as a father, a new bride is waiting for you in there, and she has come here with you. You have some responsibilities towards her, and it is my duty to remind you that she, too, is a part of my family.”

“It is not that easy, is it, Ajab?” His words came out softly, making her stare at him.

“No, it is not, and it never will be. We chose this life, Kunwarsa. We chose it together. Remember?” He stared at her twinkling eyes and pulled her into an embrace, making Ajbante Kanwar’s eyes swell up with tears. She slowly held him close as he smiled in her embrace.

“Will you wait for me tomorrow night?” He asked a little uncertainly.

“I will.”She nodded with a smile. "And I will hear everything you have to say. Not tonight.”

The moment Kunwar Partap had stepped over the threshold and walked away towards the new room, Ajbante Kanwar sat down on the floor, staring at the door, with moist eyes. She then wiped away the coming tears and made a bed, gathering Amar Singh’s toys from the floor. Her hand stopped at the wooden sword Kunwar Partap had gifted him on his birthday, and she smiled at it. The Dhai was back with the sleeping child in an hour, and Ajbante Baisa tried to sleep through the night, holding her child closer to her heart.

The first alliance of Kunwar Partap was with Pur Bai Solanki, a relative of Rani Sajjabai Solanki (date unknown). Apart from strengthening family ties, the reason for the heir of the Sisodias to marry a Solanki princess traces back to the era of Bappa Rawal, where he was promised a Solanki princess for all his heirs to come. Pur Bai Solanki had two sons, Thakur Sahas Mal, the Rawat of Dhariabad and Kunwar Gopal Singh. His next queen, Champabai Jhati, had three sons, Kunwar Kachra, Kunwar Sanwal Das and Kunwar Durjan Singh. His fourth queen, Jasobai, had Kalyan Singh, and the fifth, Phool Kanwar Rathore, had Thakur Chand Singh and Shekha Singh. He had 11 queens and 17 sons.