The Truce


“ It is usually the closest people who teach us harsh truths of life.”

The Padishah Begum received a firman from Agra that shook her to the core. Maham Anga was dismissed from her services as the chief advisor to the emperor, and her son Adham Khan was killed owing to his attack and killing of the veteran noble and Khan E Khana Ataga Khan. This kind of open bloodshed at Agra worried Rukaiya about the Shahenshah’s security. The firman also contained the news of the pregnancy of the new bride, Harka Begum. With a clap of her hand, Rukaiya Begum called upon Abdul.

“Arrange for a caravan to Agra. I am leaving at dawn.”
“Padishah Begum, should we send a letter to the emperor?”
“There is no need for that, do as I say.” The eunuch bowed and left. Rukaiya Begum wrote down a firman citing Hamida Banu Begum as the acting head in her absence at Lahore.

At Agra, the Hindu Queen was receiving special attention from the maids who had accompanied her from Amer. The Emperor had ordered a set of wet nurses to be brought from Din Panah for her care. Harka Bai was a soft-spoken young princess. She had not been asked her opinion on this alliance and was looked upon as an outcast by most of the Mughal Harem. Maham Anga had clearly shown her displeasure at the establishment of a Hindu temple inside the fort and a private kitchen for the Rajputs. The Emperor, however, seemed aloof and ignorant of Haram politics. She gathered, maybe because he never wanted to intervene and let Maham Anga handle things.
Salima Begum had been her support in this foreign palace, and she had talked of how the only person who could speak over Maham Anga was indeed the Padishah Begum. She had heard from the eunuchs gossip of a childhood romance and differences that had cropped up lately between the royal couple.

“Her child died prematurely.” One of the eunuchs had told her, “Since then, the Emperor started reducing his visits to Lahore.” The thought scared her about her own existence as she patted her belly. Salima Begum, however, had a different tale to tell.
“Rukaiya Begum is not like us; she speaks her mind and reminds him of his mistakes. She is perhaps the only one allowed to do so; not even his mother speaks like that with authority over him.” Salima Begum recollected fondly with a smile, “She will surely come and meet you when his heir comes.”

Rukaiya Begum peeped out of her caravan as it entered the red marble, magnificent fort of Agra. Besides the water of the Yamuna stood the splendid sight of Timurid glory. In a moment, she felt proud of what Jalal had achieved. She smiled at the market and the houses inside the fort premises. He had built a royal city. She was glad to be here, finally.
The emperor was at court, almost at midday, when a guard appeared before him, bowing,
“Padshah, sorry for the interruption, but...” He cleared his throat “The Padishah Begum is here, and she is asking your permission to be present at court.”

Jalal thought he had heard wrong, but the noblemen were already cheering for their Padishah Begum. He nodded in silence with approval as she appeared almost immediately behind the Purdah in a pastel shade of pink. The court proceedings went on for the next few minutes, and before he could catch a glimpse of her again, she had left. He frowned in silence.

“The Padishah Begum has summoned you to her chambers.” Salima Sultana Begum was sitting with Harka Bai when the eunuch came and spoke. A smile curved her lips.
“She is here!” Salima Begum left in a hurry, leaving the new bride a little nervous.
The Padishah Begum had walked through the Haram as Salima Begum showed her around. She pointed to some necessary changes to be made around the place and turned to Salima Begum.
“I will be resting for the afternoon. Do send Shehzaadi Aqiqa over to me in the evening.” She nodded, and the Padishah Begum smiled, “Oh yes, also inform the new bride I will see her in the evening.”
“Should I bring her over to your apartment?” Salima Begum asked.
“No, she need not move, I will visit her myself.” Her words made the Rajput maids rush back to inform their princess. Never had Maham Anga, heading the haram, even entered the princess's chambers, and the Padishah Begum wanted to visit her.

As Rukaiya Begum entered the apartments in the Sultana Mahal, Maham Anga came to bow to her. It looked like the foster mother had aged suddenly. She also asked permission for a Hajj pilgrimage, which made Rukaiya Begum nod in permission. Although she had never liked the lady, her grief at losing a son disturbed Rukaiya Begum. Perhaps it was the cause of Maham Anga’s own greed for power.
In the evening, the Emperor was informed by Abdul that the Padishah Begum had decided to meet the Hindu Princess at her apartment. Dismissing him, Jalal made his way out of his room and walked towards the Harem in slow, measured steps.

Harka Bai was a little taken aback by the gifts that filled her room. From gold-plated mirrors to paintings, books and clothes, jewellery of her liking, to her favourite fruits, everything was laid on silver trays before her, as the maids of the Padishah Begum bowed. She rose to bow to the lady who walked inside her apartment, barely twenty, of medium height and of an Indian complexion among the Turks. She stopped to look around and clap her hands for Abdul, who immediately walked in.
“Make sure these curtains and sheets are changed every day. The Begum should not be exposed to any dust or dirt. Also, make sure her room stays cool on the hot days.” He immediately went on to carry out the orders.

“Rajkunwari Harka Bai," Rukaiya Begum nodded in a graceful and acknowledging manner, "I am here to congratulate you on your ...”
“You are kind.” She had bowed with a smile. Rukaiya Begum noticed she dressed like the Princesses of Hind, in a lehenga, maangtika and Kamar bandh, and she also wore the vermilion in her hairline. Her skin glowed, perhaps from the pregnancy. Her ladies-in-waiting had immediately set up cushions for the Padishah Begum to sit on.
“I will go back to Lahore and send Mariam Makani here, for your well-being. She is extremely glad about the news.” Rukaiya Begum spoke matter-of-factly. “She will be glad to be here.”
She saw the girl nod in appreciation. Salima Begum walked in with Abdul, who had immediately brought new curtains.
“Look who is here to see Padishah Begum.” She had moved to make way for Shehzaadi Aqiqa, who smiled at the Padishah Begum. Rukaiya stretched out her hands to the girl, who ran to hug her tightly, making Salima Begum smile at the awestruck Harka Bai. From what the gossip said, this lady was cold and formal. She was nothing like that. She knew immediately that Salima Begum was right.

Jalal’s heart ached at the sight of the ladies sitting in the Hindu Princess’s apartment and Rukaiya Begum smiling at Aqiqa playing in front of their eyes. He could not stand there any longer as Rukaiya Begum touched Harka Bai’s belly gently with perhaps a longing and said in a soft voice, “The Emperor had been waiting too long for an Heir. I am so happy for him.” Regret filled his heart as he headed back to his chambers. He should have been there with her. Furthermore, he should not have spoken the way he did.

As soon as the Padishah Begum left, the Rajput maids were doing a Nazar Utran, making Harka Bai frown in disapproval.
“She has lost her own child.” One of the older maids spoke, “We can’t take risks.” Harka Bai let them do what they wanted to, but her heart said Rukaiya Begum meant no harm. She was, in a way, concerned about the future of her dynasty.
The news of the Nazar Utran had reached the Padishah Begum through Abdul’s hawk eyes. She did not show any reaction and dismissed the eunuch from her chambers. She was tired after a day and ordered her maids to arrange for a trip around the rest of the fort the next morning.

At around midnight, the curtains of her room parted, and Jalal walked in without making much noise and found Rukaiya Begum tired and in deep slumber. He sat beside her bed, in silence, watching her in the moonlight. Her calm face had traces of tiredness and sleepless nights. He had touched her head almost like a gentle pat with longing in his eyes. Then he decided to walk away from her room.
The next morning, the Padishah Begum woke to the sound of a peacock on her rooftop. She had parted her curtains for the sight, and Abdul bowed with “The Padshah sent this beauty for his Begum.” 

Jalal was at his morning practice session with the matchlock when he heard the Padishah Begum approach. He smiled because he knew his gift had done its job. He continued with the shooting as she came by, behind him and watched him aim.
“I should learn some shooting, too.” She exclaimed rather matter-of-factly as he frowned, turning to face her. Her morning freshness had a smell of rose water attached to it, and her surma-clad eyes smiled at his.
“Why?” he asked.
“I heard the Rajput ladies are taught self-defence, I should learn some too in case I need it someday.” She spoke, admiring his matchlock. He stared at her for a brief moment and said, “The Padishah Begum doesn’t need self-defence. The whole empire, its people, and the emperor himself will lay down their lives before anyone can harm her.”
“So the Padishah Begum is more important for the country than the emperor himself?” She asked with a hint of amusement.
“No, Rukaiya Begum is. For her, Jalal. For his life.” Rukaiya Begum’s smile faded slightly at his words. 

His eyes had not left hers even for a moment as they twinkled in regret “For the past few months, I...”
“What’s gone is gone!” She cut him short, “I was not much graceful either.”
“You were right, though.” He smiled.
“I always am, Jalal.” She smiled back, making him widen his smile.
“I heard about Adham Khan. I am sorry, Jalal.” She spoke in a more sincere voice, “Also, Maham Anga wants to leave for Hajj.”
“I heard.” He spoke monotonously.
“I gave her permission.” Rukaiya Begum stated matter-of-factly, “It means we have to choose someone as the acting Harem head here.”
“You are not staying?” He asked, frowning.
“No, Mariam Makani wants to come over. I should be in Lahore. I was thinking who should...”
“That is your concern.” He cut her short, “Just make a decision and let me know.”
“I want Harka Bai to...” This made him frown.
“What?” He had expected her to choose Salima Begum. Anyone would. “Why her?”
“Rajput policy!” She shrugged, making him smile.
“Now, who has learnt diplomacy?” He made her smile faintly. 

“Rukaiya...”
“Hmm?” She asked, staring into his eyes as he held both her hands in his.
“I will never forget our Fatima. And I am sorry for the way I...” She stopped him, putting her hand over his lips. Smiling with twinkling eyes, she hugged him with a deep sigh.”I am happy for your heir, I truly am, Jalal.”
“I know.” He kissed her forehead as she sniffed. “So what is the Padishah Begum doing today?” He smiled thoughtfully.
“Thinking of exploring the new capital.” She smiled.
“Will she grace the presence of her husband for the same?” He had bowed. And in a flash, Rukaiya Begum seemed to have travelled back a decade to their carefree days. She nodded in contentment.

After the alliance with Salima Begum in 1561, Akbar focused on Rajput policies, which culminated in his marriage with Mariam Ur Zamani, better known as Harka Bai, the princess of Amber in 1562-1563. She had conceived twins, Hasan and Hussain, in the year 1564, and they died within ten days of birth. Her second-born born Salim, was born in Ajmer in 1569. While Rukaiya Begum was the head of his largest harem and second capital at Lahore, Mariam Ur Zamani is believed to have headed the harem at Agra. However, with the establishment of Fatehpur Sikri around 1572, Rukaiya Begum took full charge of both the harems. Both ladies shared a cordial relationship with Salim. Most of Salim's life was spent under the influence of his stepmother in Lahore. Although Rukaiya Begum is believed not to have liked the fact that Akbar married a Hindu, she later doted on the heir to the throne, Salim, his first surviving son.



Popular posts from this blog

The Maharana and his Prodigy

She Left...

Love Struck

Copyright Disclaimer

© Suranya Sengupta Raabta (2013-2026) All Rights Reserved. All original content on this website Raabta including writings, stories, poetry, historical fiction, articles, and other intellectual property (collectively, "Content") is the exclusive property of Suranya Sengupta and protected under the Indian Copyright Act, 1957, as amended, and applicable international copyright conventions, including the Berne Convention.Personal, non-commercial viewing and reading for private use is permitted. Without prior express written consent from the copyright holder, the following uses are strictly prohibited: (i) reproduction, distribution, adaptation, or creation of derivative works from the Content; (ii) scraping, data mining, crawling, or automated extraction; (iii) use of Content to train, fine-tune, or develop artificial intelligence models, machine learning algorithms, large language models (LLMs), or any generative AI technologies; and (iv) any commercial exploitation whatsoever.Unauthorized use constitutes copyright infringement and may result in civil and criminal penalties, including but not limited to demands for statutory damages, actual damages, profits, and injunctive relief. For licensing inquiries or permissions, contact the author Last updated: February 4, 2026.