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The Queen

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“Some remain immortal in deeds, others, in the hearts of their loved ones.”

Kunwar Partap had left Kumbhalmer a little reluctantly with his chieftains to claim the throne that was rightfully his, at his father’s funeral at Gogunda. It did not come as a surprise to either Maharani Jivanta Bai or Ajbante Baisa that Rani Dheer Bai had tried to put her son on the throne of Mewar and ally with the Timurids. As Amar Singh rode away, excited, beside his father, Ajbante stared at them go, with a heavy heart. Today was the start of a new journey, a new title and new responsibilities, but all she could gather was that her baby was not a baby anymore. She felt the way she felt when she had first come to the house, alone in a crowd.

A sudden tap on her shoulder jolted her from her thoughts as she turned to see Rajmata Jivanta Bai standing before her with questioning eyes.
“What is it that worries you today, Ajbante?” Jivanta Bai asked, reading her face, “Is it, not some sunshine after days of storm, today?”
“Yes, Ranima.” She rubbed her hands together and looked away “It is just that... Amar...”
“Bhanwar Amar Singh is braver than his father.” Her words made Ajbante Kanwar stare at her in silence. “You need not worry.”
“It is not that Ranima. He had been here all the time, with me, in everything. Kunwarsa had been away most of the days, and it was always Amar who...”
“Ajbante.” Jivanta Bai cupped her face, making her look up “Kunwar Amar is ready to replace his father, just as Partap is ready to replace his.” She had nodded in silent agreement.

It was then that the sound of payals resonated through the corridors, and the three-year-old princess Champawati Bai stopped with a gleeful smile. She had her mother’s doe eyes and her grandmother’s dusky complexion. Staring at the ladies, she asked in the same gleeful tone that often reminded Ajbante Baisa of her sister, “Is it true that Dadabhai will be king?”
“Who said that to you?” Ajbante Kanwar frowned slightly.
“Dadabhai Chand.” She spoke, narrowing her eyes, “He said Dadabhai Amar will be an able king. Why can’t I be the king, Maasa?” Her words made her grandmother smile.
“ You will have to ride on elephants if you are the king, Baisa, aren’t you scared of those beasts?” Rajmata Jivanta Bai spoke, pulling her cheeks.
“Yes!” She spoke a little uncertainly, “I like Chetak! He is white like the clouds.”
“Well, your Daata too had an elephant.” Jivanta Bai smiled as the child smiled eagerly, “Really? What happened to him?”
“He...” Jivanta Bai stared at Ajbante Kanwar, who read her thoughts. “He was lost.”

Ram Prasad was extremely dear to Kunwar Partap. But he was left at Chittorgarh and captured by the Turks. He died in captivity. No one in the house spoke of Chittorgarh in the past four years. Something told Ajbante Kanwar that it was going to change soon. She smiled at her child and said, “Go get ready, Rajkuwarisa, you have new clothes to try on. Kesari will help you. And you can’t be late to greet your Daata Hukum.” She watched the princess run across the corridor.

Greetings had poured in from all quarters at Kumbhalmer as the entire Mewar had celebrated the crowning of the Maharana Partap Singh, on the occasion of Holi. It was almost afternoon, and the merriment had doubled when the news of the successful coronation reached Kumbhalmer. As the ladies of all the chiefs, alliances and the family at Kumbhalmer drenched each other in happy colours and the children ran about, it was Rani Shahmati Bai who had startled Ajbante Baisa with a sudden touching of her feet with the Gulaal. The Hada Princess was the newest addition to her family, and Ajbante Kanwar had been overly kind to her in this new place. 

As Rani Pur Bai stared at the new Maharani, waiting for her reaction, she patted Shahmati Bai gently, telling her, “Rana Udai Singh had passed away only thirteen days back being his immediate family should not be celebrating this year.” The princess was apologetic. Ajbante Kanwar had let Pur Bai handle the Ranimahal, its guests and celebrations while she walked away, and washed the Gulaal off her feet. Her eyes fell on the pair of Payal that the maids had made her wear today. It hadn’t attracted her attention until then. She smiled at them with longing. It’s been years, and they have come a long way.

Kunwar Amar Singh was happy when his father asked his chiefs to shift base to Kumbhalmer as the new capital. Both he and Maasa believed that his father found Udaipur unsafe, and Kumbhalmer was his second home. The thought of home always made Amar Singh sigh. The grand palace at Chittorgarh, its garden, orchards and practice arenas. No other place felt so much like home. He had grown up there. He knew the mention of Chittorgarh disturbed everyone. So he kept it mostly to himself. Now, he couldn’t wait to be home. He stared at the man riding beside him with hopeful eyes. He remembered Maasa’s words as if they were yesterday. He would go back home someday. Even if it costs him his life. Thirteen-year-old Amar Singh was ready to give his blood and sweat to keep his father’s idea of freedom alive.

Ajbante Baisa walked out to the courtyards and Chand pol to check the welcome preparations going on in full swing. She saw the children admire each other’s new clothes while the queens were relieved that maybe the bad days were now over. Something in her felt restless, though. She sat down in the Eklingnath temple in relative silence, a few feet away from the Kumbha Palace, abuzz with merriment.

“Maharanisa.” The maid waited to realise she was unmindful when she called a little louder again, “Maharanisa?” Ajbante Kanwar realised that the unfamiliar call was indeed for her when she turned around to spot the maid. She had held out a letter without a seal. “A guard came with this.” She had nodded as the maid left.
It was a letter of good wishes from Kunwarani Heer Kanwar Baisa. She had written about her sons and about Kunwar Shakta’s involvement with the Turk forces at Mandalgarh. Ajbante Baisa frowned slightly at this sudden letter. Her mind was full of questions that were left unanswered as the conch shells blew, grabbing her attention. The new king was home.

Eyes met and smiled as she put the Kesar Tilak on his forehead, with the Safa with Mewar’s brooch shining on his head. Almost bumping into her, forgetting their decorum, the princesses ran to greet their father. Champawati, being the youngest, reached last and was picked up by him, making Kunwar Amar smile at his sisters. He also noticed how his mother smiled happily watching him return unbruised as he touched her feet. Rana Partap Singh had nodded at his Maharani, returning her smile and walked away to meet his mother. It was Kunwar Amar who had hugged her, making the other queens smile. She had kissed his forehead lovingly and taken him to her room. Watching Amar eat laddoos in contentment, Ajbante Baisa smiled.

“Amar.” She spoke at last, “I want to talk to you about your new responsibilities.”
“I knew you would.” He smiled, taking a large bite of the laddoo in his hand. “Daata Hukum said so.”
“Did he?” She frowned at how predictable she was to the father and son.
“Dadabhai Dadabhai.” The voices of his sisters made him promptly pick up the plate of laddoos. Asha Kanwar appeared holding Champawati’s hand, with Sukh Kanwar and Rama Kanwar in tow. Seeing the plate of laddoos, it was Asha who had walked up to him as Amar promptly picked up his plate and ran.

“Dadabhai!” Asha exclaimed, “You cannot eat Badima’s laddoos all by yourself!”
“Oh, I can’t?” Amar smirked at his sister teasingly, “Watch me.”
Maharani Ajbante Kanwar watched her children run across the hallway, chasing each other, as Kunwar Chand, Kunwar Sahas Mal, Kunwar Kalyan, Kunwar Sekha and  Kunwar Kachra, the youngest one, joined them. Their laughter rang through the Ranimahal as their mothers walked out of their rooms, with happy smiles at each other. Peace had returned to their home at last. Kunwar Amar Singh, who was running way ahead of his brothers and sisters, had stopped suddenly, scared.

Rana Partap Singh had given his first speech as the Rana of Mewar at Kumbhalmer, promising his chieftains never to bow to an enemy that would cost Mewar its freedom. He had also promised immediate action against some Turk encampments and Marwar’s newly crowned Mota Raja Udai Singh. After tiresome days and new responsibilities, he was attracted by the sound of laughter that had resonated through the Ranimahal. It took him back to his childhood days when he and Kunwar Shakta would chase each other in the same corridors, and how his sisters laughed, at the Ranimahal of Chittorgarh. The nightmares of doomsday came back to haunt him again. But he brushed it aside, watching his children run across the hallway in giggles and laughter.

“Dadabhai!” Asha’s voice made him smile as Kunwar Sahas added, “Share some laddoos.”
“They are Badima’s laddoos; they only come on special occasions.” Kunwar Kalyan had exclaimed. Kunwar Amar had stopped, alarmed, spotting him. He looked a little scared at his unroyal manner of behaviour in front of his father, and the rest of the children stopped behind him. Scrutinising them with a rather serious face, Rana Partap had looked across the hall to the ladies, where his Ajbante had the smile he missed perhaps since the day he had married her. She smiled at him and looked away.

“What is going on here?” His serious voice made the boys stand in a line, quietly, with Amar still holding the plate.
“ We are so... so... sorry, Daata Hukum.” It was Champawati who spoke, fumbling and rubbing her tiny bangle-clad hands slightly. Rana Partap inhaled at his daughter’s expression, hiding his smile.
“So what is the fuss about?” His question was directed to Amar, who had opened his mouth. But before he could speak, Rana had walked up to his plate. “So, Badima made laddoos?” Asha nodded with a slight smile at her father. “Where is mine?” As soon as he said it, he picked up two from Amar’s plate, making Amar sulk softly, “But those were mine.”
“Not anymore.” Rajkunwari Sukh Bai snatched the plate from his hand with a giggle as her father smiled and the children ran after her. Rani Pur Bai went after them with a warning voice, “Slow down, all of you, there is more in the kitchen.” The other ladies followed. He walked up to Ajbante Kanwar, who was still smiling at the children’s antics.

“You were right.” His words made her frown “Pardon?”
“You made a home out of a palace, Ajab, you made this family one unit.” He smiled.
“We.” Ajbante corrected, “We did it.”
“I have something to discuss with you.” His serious words made her frown as they walked toward her chambers.
A story and two letters later, Ajbante Kanwar sat surprised in front of her husband.
“So Kunwar Shakta is ...”
“He said he will help me with information, I am not sure whether to trust...” He stopped at her frown.
“Trust him.” She spoke determinedly, “He also loves Mewar, just like we do.” He had agreed in silence.
“Let this remain our secret. If anyone knows, it can mean danger for Bhai Shakta and his family.” She nodded understandingly. “There is an impending war with Marwar, perhaps.” He added.
“You want this?” She frowned, “The last time...”
“The last time situations were different, now the Rao Udai Singh has allied with them.” He clenched his jaws.
“I... think Akbar will send a peace treaty to you.” Ajbante Kanwar spoke unmindfully, “He will try his luck again to avoid war.”
“Why won’t he attack instead?” He frowned “He has strongholds on all our sides.”
“Maybe because he knows it will be a tough contest.” She smiled slightly.

“Are you complimenting me, Maharani Ajbante Kanwar Baisa?” He raised his eyebrows, making her smile wider.
“Don’t I do that, Ranaji?” She shrugged.
“Not very often.” He responded, “But I like it when you do.”
“I have something.” She got up to come back with some red Gulaal she had saved from the Holi festivities. “It was Rana Hukum’s funeral, but also your coronation. So I saved some for later.” She spoke as she took a pinch of it in her hands, “They say the colours of Holi are auspicious.” 

She put a tilak over his Kesar one, “May the good be with Mewar.” She smiled as he took a pinch of the same from her hand and filled her hairline, over her vermilion “May you be with me.” She frowned at his words disapprovingly.
“I have something else to tell you.” She sounded a little alarmed, making him frown and worried.
“What is it? Something bad?” He frowned.
“I think Champa is going to have a younger brother soon. The Dhai came by a day back and...” She stopped at his stare.
“You didn’t tell me earlier, you should have told me... sit down right now.” She had smiled at his worry. “I am fine, this is not the first time I...”
“Daasi, Daasi...” He had called on Kesari, “Send Solankhini Baisa here, please.”
“But listen, I...” Ajbante Kanwar watched her husband, amused. Some things didn’t change for decades, and she was glad they didn’t.

Rani Pur Bai knew exactly why she was called at odd hours to the chamber of the Maharani. She was the only one besides the Rajmata who knew the news and was forbidden by Ajbante Kanwar to share it yet. As she entered the room, she smiled, amused at Ajbante Baisa’s fed-up look while Rana Partap started giving her a list of dos and don’ts.
“Don’t worry about Jija Ranaji.” She spoke at last, “I am here to manage everything.” He realised he had perhaps shown more worry than needed and stared a little sheepishly at Ajbante Kanwar, who looked at him disapprovingly. Pur Baisa smiled in secret as he left. She sat beside Maharani Ajbante Baisa as she told her about the upcoming challenges.

“I want to send Amar with him.” Her words made Pur Baisa frown worried.
“But he is thirteen...”
“Ranaji was thirteen when he killed Shams Khan.” Ajbante Kanwar shrugged, “Amar should be ready to face life.”
“But...” Pur Baisa sounded unsure, “Will Ranaji agree? I mean... taking the throne from Kunwar Jagmal was one thing, war...”
“He has to agree. It is my decision that Amar goes to war.” She stopped at Pur Bai’s stare.

“Jija. I wish every one of us were as fearless as you.” She said admiringly.
“I am not fearless, Pur Behena. I can just hide it better.” Pur Bai smiled, holding her hands tightly.
Somewhere along the way, Ajbante Baisa glowed in her pregnancy, and the way their husband doted on her made Pur Baisa witness them with respect and admiration, as well as an empty feeling. Truth be said, never in her wildest dreams could she think of questioning Ranaji or Jija, but the way these two questioned and challenged each other, yet let the love and respect between them never fade away, made her feel proud of them in ways unexplainable. She had been used to this life in the Ranimahal, grateful that Ajbante Baisa treated her family with liberty and equality, unlike many who had been cold-hearted in their heavy titles.




The second-born son of Ajbante was Kunwar Bhagwan Das, Partap’s eighth son. The name Champawati or Champa Bai appears in folklore as the daughter of Rana Partap and his Maharani, who died eating poisonous berries during their difficult days in the forest after the Haldighati war. It shattered him to pieces, but the loss of the child did not weaken his motive toward his motherland. During the war, the family was moved to Avadgarh, a small province of Sirohi, under the protection of his queen Alemdeh Bai Chauhan’s father. There were three Mughal peace treaty missions led by Bhagwan Das (twice) and Maan Singh in 1573, 1574 and 1575. The last being the most famous insult from Amar Singh to Man Singh of Amer, which led to the battle of Haldighati in 1576. The family moved in with him around 1577 when Kunwar Shakta and his family also joined the Royal Court of Mewar officially. They had roamed in forestlands, practising guerrilla techniques until the war of 1581 to regain Kumbhalmer. The capital was then established at Chavand, where both Rana Partap and Ajbante Baisa died, their grandson Kunwar Karan, son of Amar Singh and Aarti Bai Chauhan, was born, and Asha Bai was married to Jhalla Beeda of Sadri.



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