Of Reign & Romance

1605, Lahore Fort

“Move out of the way!” She heard her voice tremble as she ran frantically down the winding road. The child sat in the middle of the narrow mountain road, playing with his pebbles.
“Move!” Her voice didn’t seem to reach him as the rhythmic sound of approaching hooves increased. She ran towards the child as he looked up at her worried face, clueless.
In the nick of time, she had managed to save her little boy. She held him tightly in her arms in relief.
“Shah Ammi!” The voice resonated from afar. “Ammi! Ammi.”
The urgency of the voice made the mountains fade away into the darkness, then the unwinding roads plunged into it, and finally, the boy she held in her protective arms was no longer there. She tried to hold on to anything she found around her, the trees, the boy’s hand, the sound of hooves, and even the mountains before her eyes in vain as everything faded into darkness. She jerked awake as her son tapped on her shoulder. She opened her eyes at the sight of him, a little relieved, but the faces of the others in the room made her heart sink.
“He is not responding, Padshah Begum.” The eunuch had hardly finished the sentence as she pushed the crowd aside and ran as fast as she could, barefoot, towards his Khwab Ghar. Her son followed, worried. It just couldn’t be. Not this soon. Not now.
Dawn broke into the darkness that day.

1608, somewhere in Bengal.

“You know what you have to do, just do the right thing.”
His words resonated in her ears as the wind howled. She held her child close to her bosom as the horse sped through the forests towards Agra. The cold blade of the sword brushed against her skin, warm from the scorching summer sun, and her heart pounded in her chest against her sleeping child’s breath. She checked the forehead for any signs of fever. Relieved, she stared ahead at the clearing from where smoke rose up to the sky. The horse stopped at the side of the clearing. She needed to be careful. The line between foes and friends was blurred now. She needed to be sure. The blood on her muslin angrakha had still not dried. His blood. She tied the horse to a tree away from sight and sighed as the child fluttered her eyes. The sound of careful footsteps behind her on the dried leaves alarmed her as she turned, ready to attack.
“Asaf Bhaijaan!” The relief in her voice reflected in her face as she sat down on the forest floor on her knees, her tired body surrendering to her sobs, as the child in her arms wailed.
The man standing in front of her was quick to pick up the crying child in his arms and stare at the sister he always loved and pampered, silently.
“We don’t have much time, Mehr. We need to move.” He gave her his hand.

My Everything

Kunwar Pratap stormed into the Mahal at Gogunda amidst uncertainty and chaos. Happy faces of the chieftains and soldiers welcomed him as Rawat Chundawat, and some other chieftains stopped the ongoing Raj Tilak. A visibly scared Kunwar Jagmal looked clueless at a visibly angry Kunwar Pratap. Rani Dheerbai Bhatiyani hadn't expected Kunwar Pratap to show up, that too, despite her conveying to him his father's last wish of crowning Kunwar Jagmal. Twenty-one days after Udai Singh's death, she was finally close to a dream she had dared to dream since Jagmal was born. He was not informed about the Raj Tilak as per Dheerbai's instructions. She eyed Rawat Ji. He must have assembled the chiefs to this revolt against her son, against the dead king. No one except them knew where Kunwar Pratap was staying. It was for the safety of his family. " What are you doing, Chotima?" A disappointed voice was directed at her. She could stoop down so low? For the first time, an anger...

Happy Ending

Dheer had a sleepless night. Yes, she had killed the Maharani, but to seek revenge for her son. Jagmal was all she had for a dream, and Rana Pratap's first decision was to banish him. He had never been that tough with his other brothers who went with Akbar, then why him? Just because he wanted to be a king? Just because they brought a false letter and bought a few witnesses? Her son died in Ajmer, so young. And she had always blamed Ajabdeh Punwar for Rana's hard decision. After all, ever since she came as a support for Jaivanta Bai, she had been like his shield, even though creating misunderstandings didn't help Dheer Bai Bhatiyani. Ajabdeh had done the impossible, showing him the real face of his Chotima. What bothered Dheer now was whether he remembered anything, and most importantly, if she did. Dheer had turned pale at the song and smile Pratap gave, but if he knew she had killed Ajabdeh, it meant Survi remembered her walking to a dying Ajabdeh and confessing that ...

Queen of the Heart

Kunwar Pratap was in the Dangal Sthal practising his moves. Ajabdeh decided it was fair to know his strength before she summoned him. Sword in hand, in a white female warrior attire with only her face visible, she hid behind one of the large watchtowers of the Dangal, watching him move. She heard Rawatji say, "Your left hand is still weaker than the right one with the moves. Both should be perfect." A smile curved her lips. Knowing an opponent's weakness always helps, which is one rule of war she always remembered. Kunwar Pratap swung his sword with his left hand and turned around. He could sense someone watching; his sixth sense was never wrong. He looked around. Ajabdeh again peeped at the grounds to see that it was empty. He had left. She walked towards the empty ground, sword in hand. Suddenly, the cold blade of a sword was felt on her neck. She stopped still. " So someone was spying on me." His voice had a hint of taunt. " No, I was ... walking by......

Begum Sahib: Forbidden Love

2nd June 1634, Burhanpur. " My heart is an endowment of my beloved, the devotee and lover of his sacred shrine, a soul that enchants mine." The Raja of Bundi had arrived at Burhanpur after a win in the war of Paranda. He had met the crown prince Dara and was honoured with a sword and elephant before he came to pay his respect to the Padishah Begum as per the norms of the court. Jahanara was writing in her room. Her maid came with the news, “Begum Sahib, the Raja of Bundi has arrived at court; he is at the Bagh to pay you his respect.” “Tell him to sit in the courtyard of my bagh, I will be there.” She had risen from her place, covered her face in the veil of her dupatta and walked to the place where he waited. “ Begum Sahib”, he had acknowledged her presence with a salutation. She returned the bow with a nod. She was sitting inside the arch while he was on the other side of the Purdah, the sun shining over his head as he took his seat on the velvet carpet th...

His Wife

" Where is the Kesar, Rama? And the Kalash?" Ajabdeh looked visibly displeased at the ladies who ran around. " They are at the fort gates, and nothing is ready yet!" She exclaimed. She was clad in a red lehenga and the jewellery she had inherited as the first Kunwarani of the crown prince. Little Amar ran down the hallway towards his mother. " Maasa Maasa... who is coming with Daajiraj?" His innocent question made her heart sink. " Bhanwar Ji." Sajja Bai called out to him. " Come here, I will tell you." Amar rushed to his Majhli Dadisa., " Ajabdeh." She turned at Jaivanta Bai's call. "They are here." " M... My Aarti thali..." Ajabde looked lost like never before. Jaivanta Bai held her stone-cold hands, making her stop. She patted her head and gave her a hug. The hug gave her the comfort she was looking for as her racing heart calmed down. Jaivanta Bai left her alone with her thaal. " Maa sa!" ...

To Protect You

Kunwar Pratap was in the court with Rana Udai Singh. The Mughals were conquering a huge part of the north courtesy of Bairam Khan and Mewar on their routes to the ports of Surat. " Daajiraj, we need to secure the roads leading to Agra and also towards the west. The attack-prone areas should always be under surveillance." " Yes, Ranaji. Baojiraj is right." Rawatji agreed. In the Rani Mahal, everyone was preparing for a grand lunch. Ajabdeh was making a drink for the princes and princesses, and in a hurry, she forgot to add the Kesar and Badam on top. As she served the smaller princes, including Kunwar Jagmal, Dheerbai came to inspect her eldest son's food. " What is this? Who made this? Kokoiaji?" She stormed to the kitchen with a bowl of sweet dishes. " Kunwaranisa did." Came a scary answer, from Veer Bai. " Ajabdeh Baisa." Her words let out a silent gasp from the lesser queens who stood witness. Calm and composed, Ajabdeh walke...

Scheme of Things

The ousting of Shams Khan and his troops from Chittorgarh earned Kunwar Partap Singh overnight fame across the land as tales of his bravery made their way through the dunes and hills, across rivers and borders to lands far and beyond. At thirteen, he had commanded an army troop to take over the fort of Chittorgarh and restore Mewar’s borders to their former glory. People started comparing him to his forefathers, the great Rana Kumbha, who built forts across Mewar and his grandfather, Rana Sanga, who had united all Rajputs against external threats. As bards sang praises of the prince, gossip soon followed. Gossip was the most entertaining one could get in the mundane city lives and village gatherings, and it often travelled faster than the fastest Marwadi horse. So alongside the tales of his absolute bravery and how he hoisted the Mewari flag on the fort, were the stories of how his life was in danger, the king and queen did not quite get along and how he was made to live in poverty by ...

Begum Sahib: An Introduction and chronology

Note to the readers: Women behind men in history fascinate me. I had been reading about the mothers and wives who changed men’s fortunes. But what about daughters and sisters? A few months back, I was looking for books on Mughal Ladies, mainly Noor Jahan and her work. In the bibliography credits, I had chanced upon “The Life of A Mogul Princess” By Jahanara Begum, the daughter of Shah Jahan. I had no idea about the book and thought it was another autobiography. Previously, I had read only about how she was imprisoned along with her father at Agra, and her involvement with Dara Shikoh, her younger brother, in connecting the two realms of Hinduism and Islamism and the establishment of Sufism. All of these and the chronological events of history can be found in various books. As I read each page of her diary, cross-checking each point with Jagunath Sircar’s “History of Aurangzib” and R.C. Majumder’s “Mughal Empire” as well as numerous other sources on the Mughal Harem, I discovered ...

United

Early at dawn, Ajabdeh was helping Sajja Bai pack Padmavati's belongings. As she put some of the princess's best clothes in a trunk, she heard a soft sob. Ajabdeh looked at the bride's mother, wiping away a tear in silence. She had never seen Rani Sajja Bai in tears. Always full of life, this queen had a heart of gold. " Majhli Maasa," Ajabdeh called softly before holding her cold hands. " She will be fine." She smiled reassuringly. " You know Padmavati, Kuwaranisa. She is always so childish and immature, like me. I had Jija when I came here; I never had any responsibilities. But she will be his first wife." " Majhli Maasa, don't worry, she will learn everything. I know she will." Ajabdeh's words made Sajja smile amidst her tears. " I always thought that when my daughter would be gone, there would be no one to understand me." She cupped Ajabdeh's face, smiling. " I was wrong." " You are giving away...

The Adventure of PI Ved: The Case in London

There is something funny about the phrase “as dead as a doornail.” Why? Because I am dead and I don’t look like a nail of any sort. I lie on my living room carpet, hands stretched out, the knife stuck to my back...such a backstabber. I hated them all my life! And what is the purpose of killing me? It is not like I would have lived much longer, I was eighty-five, for God’s sake! I lay here, the blood turning thick as I stared at the painting on the wall. It is such a hideous painting. I bought it for so much money, I was duped. I am waiting for the morning when my caregiver arrives to discover me on the floor. But I feel they are still around, looking for something. Searching every room. It is around 7 AM that she rings the bell. She bangs the door. She yells out, “Mr Smith!” Oh no, she is going back. Come back here, you fool! The criminal must still be upstairs. I hear them come down the wooden staircase and exit from the back door. Now the useless caregiver lady is back. Oh, she ...

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