Skip to main content

Lost Love

Navroz Mela, 1608, Rankatta, Agra.

The Nawroz Festivities and fair were arranged in the village of Rankatta near Agra for the year. A few days before the festivals, tents were set up for the royal family, and chieftains also made their way to the village with their wives and daughters. The last to arrive at the occasion was the emperor himself, who had stopped on the way, at the tomb of his father, posthumously honoured “Arsh Ashyani”. He, however, managed to reach it on the dawn of the festivities.

Padshah Jahangir adjusted his turquoise gem-studded turban and stared at his reflection in the mirror, while his attendants helped him with the muslin robe. Did he look anything close to the late emperor whom everyone idolised? Did he look convincing enough to himself? He sighed, careful enough not to let the stress show on his face. Ever since he had his senses, Salim felt this way. The pressure of being an heir apparent, added to the constant rebuke and doubt by his own people, and when his father doubted his ability to lead the Timurid throne, he rebelled in frustration. It was not easy to fit into the expectations of ruling like Emperor Akbar. He had always looked up to his father’s skill in diplomacy. He sipped on his cup of wine, trying to gulp in the bitter taste of expectations with it.

“The Shehzaada is here.” The guard announced with a bow as he nodded with a smile. He felt the need to be close to Khurram sometimes, something he had not been able to do with Khusrau, and something his own father never did. This day was their first official father-son moment. His first chance at making Khurram feel at home in Agra. The boy had lived most of his days in Lahore near his grandparents, and Jahangir doubted if he held grudges against his own father.

Jahangir kept down the cup of wine, half-finished, on the tray and dismissed the attendants as Khurram entered the room and bowed. His red turban, gold and green robe, and glittering smile were not to be missed.

“Today is your official appearance at the Navroz Khurram Baba.” Jahangir turned to face his son, who nodded slightly. “On this auspicious occasion, I would like to have you on the weighing scale.” Khurram looked up at his father, surprised. Traditionally, it would be the emperor who was weighed on a scale, with clothes, jewellery and things, to be distributed to the poor later in the day.

“But Padshah... why me?” Khurram asked, not hiding his surprise.

“Can I not let my son take my place once? It is your first Navroz here.”

“Gratitude Padshah...” He had bowed, as was the rule, but Khurram was surprised by a sudden hug from his father. Jahangir patted his back slightly and gestured at the door.

The Navroz fair was organised in the open-air Bazaar meant for the ladies. Colourful stalls were set up by the ladies of the harem, as well as families of eminent chieftains of the court. Some Rajputs sold Bandhni veils and turbans, while some Persian stalls had handmade carpets. Asmat Begum set up the perfumes she had made especially to sell at the fair, up in coloured fancy bottles for the ladies to try while Arjumand and Ladli sat patiently behind her. As excited as Arjumand was for the new dress, she was happier to see Ladli.

Mehr Un Nissa hurried with her stall. She put up some nice dress material samples on display and took out her drawing books to draw up order designs for the ladies. Her light yellow dress complemented her glowing skin, and her surma-clad eyes shone from expecting the first customer. She exchanged a glance with her mother and smiled, satisfied with how her stall appeared.

The courtroom cheered as the emperor made his way to the Dais of public appearance with Shehzaade Khurram in tow, and Asaf Khan leading the way to the weighing scales. Ulemas and Pandits stood witness as the riches in jewellery, weapons and clothes were brought in from the treasury, waiting to be weighed. On the window of appearances, behind the purdah, stood the Begums. As Salima Begum and Rukaiya Begum made their way to witness the events, Jahangir gave his nod. Asaf Khan bowed, holding out his hand for the emperor to step up on the weighing scale, and Jahangir pushed Khurram ahead. The scholars exchanged puzzled glances, and so did the courtiers.

“Pardon me, my Lord; it is neither the Shehzaada’s solar nor lunar weighing nor his win in any war. The Navroz tradition...”

“I want Khurram Baba to be weighed. For many of his solar or lunar weightings, I have not been present, and from this day, I hope he has many wins. I declare sending Shehzaade Khurram on his first expedition soon.”

The crowd cheered as Khurram looked up at the window. There stood Jagat Gossain, her eyes sparkling proudly, but his eyes travelled to his Shah Ammi’s smile, which lit up her eyes. She was proud of him. As Jagat Gossain found his eyes wandering from hers to the lady, her heart sank. Sahila Banu stole a glance at her and smiled at the happenings of the day.

Khurram was weighed, and the wealth was distributed to the poor and needy. He then sat beside his father’s throne for the special day’s events unfolding at the court. The ladies made their way out to the Bazaar.

Sahila Banu, with her ladies, was followed at a quick pace by Jagat Gossain, who showed her around the Bazaar, introducing her to some of the ladies again. Her eyes stopped as Asmat Begum bowed.

“Why, you are here to see Asmat Begum!” Jagat Gossain smiled,” I thought the mothers of Ladies in waiting are not allowed to have stalls here.”

“You know, right, my lady, but my husband and son are still courtiers of the emperor.” Asmat Begum smiled, bowing now to Sahila Banu. “Padshah Banu, can I have the pleasure of mesmerising you with some perfumes?”

“Why not?” Sahila Banu smiled, dismissing Jagat Gossain’s stare. “I love mild ones.”

“Perhaps Lavender then?” Asmat Begum offered a scent of the purple liquid that made Sahila Banu smile.

“Perhaps some Jasmine for you, my lady?” Jagat Gossain stared at the girl who offered her the scent. She was about Khurram’s age.

“Who are you?” Jagat Gossain asked, rubbing the scent on her wrist slightly. “Her helper?”

“I am Mirza Asaf Khan’s daughter, my lady.” She bowed. Jagat Gossain nodded, taking the perfume and ordering her lady-in-waiting to pay the girl.

“Aren’t you the one studying with the princesses nowadays?” Sahila Banu asked softly.

“Yes, my lady”, Arjumand smiled, "The Sultana Sahiba has been too kind.” Jagat Gossain’s smile faded a little as she looked at the girl again. Her brows narrowed slightly as she asked, “Have you met Shehzaade Khurram, my son?” Arjumand was taken aback by the question, more so because she thought Rukaiya Begum was his mother.

“I...” Jagat Gossain didn’t wait for her to respond as she stared back at the eunuch who followed her. He replied in an affirmative nod as Jagat Gossain left in a hurry.

Arjumand stood awestruck at her behaviour as Ladli tucked her skirt. She picked the child up on her lap as she saw Sahila Banu make her way to her aunt’s stall.

“Come, Ladli, let's go see the fair.”

Mehr Un Nissa was taking orders from one of the ladies for a pearl-studded veil when she was pushed away to make room for Padshah Banu. Mehr looked up from her sketch and hurried with a bow.

“So, I heard you impressed Sultana Begum with a dress.” Sahila Banu smiled.

“She is too kind.” Mehr Un Nissa smiled.

“Show me a unique piece you can make for me.” Sahila Banu scanned her dress material as Mehr Un Nissa hurried with her designs.

“I heard of your husband.” Sahila Banu spoke as she checked one sample out.” Sad that the emperor ordered him...” She stopped as if she had said something she shouldn’t have, and saw Mehr Un Nissa’s jaws clench slightly. “His... trail... for betrayal... before he... passed away...”

Mehr was quiet. Sahila chose a fabric and slid it towards her. “I want it in a week.”

“Sure, Padshah Banu.” Mehr bowed as she left.

“It’s time for you to visit the fair.” Asaf Khan informed the emperor, while Khurram’s eyes lit up.

“Seems like the Shehzaade wants to visit the fair soon.” Jahangir laughed slightly “Come on, Baba. Let’s go see what the ladies are selling.”

Jahangir would lie to himself if he said that the thought of seeing Mehr never crossed his mind. He was aware that she was here, aware that Rukaiya Begum took her under her wings, yet there was a boundary he couldn’t cross to reach out to her. A boundary that Salim should have crossed years ago, but the emperor couldn’t for the newly widowed mother. A part of his heart hoped she was there, that he would see her face after a decade, and things would go back to as they were when they met for the first time. The other part of him never wanted to see her face, feel the pain that ached his heart once, and perhaps see sadness or anger in her eyes. He could never take a disappointed look from Mehr. His thoughts trailed as the Nagada announced his arrival.

The Nagada made Khurram’s heart leap as he caught a glimpse of Arjumand, with Ladli in her arms, trying out some bangles at a stall. His heart wanted to leave his father’s side and rush to her, talk to her, and know what she was up to. But he looked away, taking small, dignified steps behind his father.

Arjumand smiled at Khurram’s sight, taking a step towards him in the crowd, but stopped as he looked away, waving to some people in courtesy, his turban shining and his aura that of royalty. Her smile faded as her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t know why Khurram was looking away, which made her sad. He was the prince after all, and unlike their afternoon poetry sessions, he had an image to uphold, here, on royal duty. She saw him disappear into the crowd after his father.

Mehr Un Nissa looked up from her customers at the sound of Nagada, and her face turned a little pale. There he was, a few feet away, his twirling moustache like his father’s, his pace that of an emperor and his eyes inspecting the crowd. Mehr Un Nissa had prepared in her head for this moment. Yet, she wasn’t ready. Her throat dried up, as her heart leapt. She felt guilty about the way he still made her feel. She felt guilty about how she felt towards him, after everything that happened; she cursed herself for forgetting at that moment that she was Ali Quli’s widow, not his lover anymore.

The crowd in front of him dispersed as he could see Asmat Begum’s perfume stall now. His eyes wandered to her left and stopped, locked in another pair of eyes staring back at him. A shiver ran down his spine as he gulped. He wanted to look away, but couldn’t; she wanted to stare away, but couldn’t. A few more pairs of eyes witnessed this and exchanged glances as Mehr Un Nisa slowly turned pale. Something churned in her stomach as she felt her knees go weak. She hoped he would look away. Jahangir clenched his jaw and fisted his hand over his sword to clear the blur of his vision. He looked away forcefully and sighed.

“Why, you are here!” A familiar voice made him feel relieved.

“Badi Ammi.” He turned and greeted Rukaiya with a smile, “I just brought Khurram here...”

“Khurram, why don’t you introduce your father to your new friend?” Jahangir frowned a little, clueless at her words, as Khurram was taken aback.

“Shah Ammi?”

“Where is she?” Rukaiya Begum looked around.

“I will go... get her.” Khurram rushed through the crowd as Jahangir stood with a questioning look, and Rukaiya smiled.

“I think before you send your son to war, you must see his choice of a bride.”

“A Bride?” Jahangir was a little taken aback. In his head, Khurram was still the child, running about in the gardens of Lahore, as Badi Ammi smiled at him.

Arjumand gasped at the sudden pull on her wrist in the crowd as Khurram stood in front of her with a smile. Her cheeks flushed warmly as he let go of her hand, and she looked away.

“I was looking for you.” Khurram smiled. “How are you, Ladli?”

“Why?” Arjumand frowned. “You just ignored me a while ago.”

“Ignored you?” Khurram frowned. “I... just followed my... he wants to meet you.”

“Who?” Arjumand looked scared.

“My father, the Padshah.” Khurram smiled, “Shah Ammi told me to take you there.”

“But... why me?” Arjumand thought she had lost her voice, scared.

“Because you are...” Khurram stopped and stared at her scared face “A friend.” He held her by the wrist and pulled him a little to follow him through the crowd.

Rukaiya Begum’s smile faded a little to see Arjumand, with Ladli in her arms. But she maintained her calm as the girl bowed to Jahangir.

“She is the daughter of Mirza Asaf Khan.” Rukaiya Begum spoke rather plainly.

“Is this your sister?” Jahangir acknowledged the girl.

“She is my aunt’s daughter.” Arjumand looked scared as the Emperor stared at her cousin.

“Of course she is.” He sighed. She had her mother’s eyes.

Jahangir left the crowd towards the Khas Mahal as Rukaiya followed him.

Mehr Un Nissa was quick to rush to Arjumand’s side to collect Ladli, a little scared and overprotective.

“Phuphi, meet Shehzaade Khurram,” Arjumand spoke as Mehr Un Nissa bowed. He wouldn’t perhaps remember the times when he was small, and she often met him in the gardens while waiting to catch a glimpse of his father. She hoped he didn’t know who she was. Khurram’s smile made it evident that he didn’t.

“You have a lovely daughter, my Lady.” He spoke, “Can I have the pleasure of her company at times when Arjumand and I recite poetry in the afternoons?”

“It will be her honour, Shehzaade.” Mehr Un Nissa forced a smile as she held Ladli close. What if Emperor Jahangir was a threat to her child as much as he was to her late husband? For the first time, the thought of losing Ladli crossed her mind and scared her.

The very famous Navroz festival fair was where Jahangir had met Mehr-un-Nissa, and most probably, Khurram met Arjumand. For the sake of the story, Khurram and Arjumand are friends, which was also very much possible since no clear historical account of how they met is available. Mehr-un-Nisa’s newest designs became a trend in the Mughal court and the talk of noble ladies, not only when she designed clothes herself but even when she became empress. Her style of angrakha, hats and jewellery was copied by ladies of the Timurid clan, often even in later years.




Popular posts from this blog

Purnota: Chapter Sixteen

It had been a month since Bondita had started working in the firm. With Somnath’s wedding date being set for winter, many things were keeping Trilochon and Kalindi busy as they took charge of the smooth running of things leading up to the wedding. They needed to shop for everyone, buy gifts and choose jewellery and sarees for the bride. Despite his attempts, Trilochon found Binoy reluctant to participate in his son’s wedding arrangements. Somnath took him and Kalindi to places they wanted to go, especially Kolkata for shopping, and Trilochon made arrangements to make sure that the first wedding of the generation was grand enough. Bondita tried to help as much as she could as she noticed Aniruddha being oddly aloof from the entire thing. She assumed it was due to Trilochon’s reactions to his lack of interest in marriage. Trilochon kept pestering her to enquire into his reasons while she kept stalling him with excuses. Bondita also failed to know more about Kalindi and Trilochon’s past, ...

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...

Towards You

The Afghans, after Sher Shah Suri's untimely demise, were at loggerheads for power. Their troops near Mewar were now led by Mehmood Shah. They secretly captured territories in the forests and waited to attack Mewari camps when the time was right. Rawat Chundawat and his spies had confirmed the news, and Udai Singh sent a warning to Mehmood Shah to withdraw his troops from Mewar in vain. Now that it was out in the open, it was time they declared war. Mehmood Shah had limited resources in Mewar. His internal rebellion against his commander did not help his cause. His spies clearly suggested that in no way could he win, especially with Kunwar Pratap leading his troops. He was having second thoughts about the war. It was then that one of his aides suggested a perfect plan. Maharani Jaivanta Bai had decided to go to the Mahakaleshwar Temple near the outskirts of Chittorgarh, in the forestlands of Bhilwara. They had travelled a long way and across the Gambhiri river that meandered during...

Purnota: Chapter Seventeen

Bondita opened the curtains of her room at The Park to find the view of Stephen Court and the street below going towards the Maidan. She eyed the double bed and placed her things on one side while lying down on the empty side. The soft bed made her yawn as she sat up, staring at the clock. She needed to change for a quick dinner. They had an early matter at the High Court, and the client’s car was supposed to pick them up around 9 AM. As she changed into a full-sleeve black top and jeans, removed her earrings and adjusted her smudged Kajal, she heard a knock on her door. She opened it to find Aniruddha standing in a pair of jeans and a grey polo-necked T-shirt, his hair brushed back, as he cleaned his thin-rimmed glasses with the edge of his T-shirt.  “Are you ready for dinner?” He asked, putting the glasses back on. As she nodded, she grabbed her handbag. They walked into The Bridge, and Bondita was a little conscious of her environment. Many foreign guests, businessmen and even s...

Purnota: Chapter Twenty One

The morning after the Chief Minister of the state attended the reception party, Binoy wrapped the newspaper that had just arrived at their threshold, eyeing the picture of him and Trilochon with the chief minister smiling proudly, made a mental note of framing it for his office in Siliguri and stepped out to see the car waiting for him in the entrance to take him to the station. He glanced over his shoulder at the house, still asleep and watched Bihari put his luggage in the back seat. Bihari had been with the Roy Chowdhury House since he was a teenager. He eyed Binoy as he lit his pipe and straightened his jacket when Bihari approached him. “Boro Saheb, should I inform Kotta Moshai once?” Binoy eyed Bihari with a disapproving glance.  “If I wanted to tell him, I would have done so myself, Bihari. Where is the driver?” He checked his watch. Bihari sighed as he ran to check on the driver. Bondita stopped on the gravelled path leading from the entrance to the main gate as she watched...

Purnota: Chapter Twenty Two

The winter morning was pleasant, especially when the sunshine hit the dewy grass on the lawn, and Bihari set down the porcelain cups for Trilochon and Kalindi to start their day. Kalindi had just taken up some orders to knit sweaters and mittens for some of the neighbourhood kids as she wrapped the thick brown shawl tightly around herself, on the chilly morning as she sat down on the lawn chair with her needles, pin and colourful balls of wool, as she knit a pair of mittens while waiting for Trilochon to join her. Bondita hurried out of their place and stopped at the sight of her sitting alone, unsurely. “Do you need something?” Kalindi raised her eyes briefly from the wool and asked as she shook her head. “I was hoping to talk to Jyatha Moshai…” She shivered a little as Kalindi scolded her to find a sweater first. She rushed indoors as Kalindi spotted Trilochon in a thermal t-shirt, a pair of pants and a shawl walking towards her with the cane in hand. He stopped as he watched her kni...

Purnota: Chapter Twenty

Trilochon’s only desire for Som’s wedding was for it to be so grand that the entire Chandannagar remembered it for the longest time. He had also invited the leaders of the opposition, ministers and even the CM, and if rumours were to be believed, he would accept the invitation. That meant trying to impress him for a ticket to the next Lok Sabha elections. He knew the only way to do so was also to showcase Som as a prodigy. Their family name was enough to earn votes for the party in the area. “Perhaps you could tell him about Somnath Babu’s involvement in some of the projects here. Like the slum area where water was flooding the pathways…” Poritosh had suggested. “But it was done by…” Bapi Da had stopped as Trilochon shook his head, “How does it matter who did it? What matters is that we say Som did it.” They agreed. “Jyatha Moshai.” Bondita walked into his room, not expecting the elderly men from the Party office to be there. “ Bolo, Maa. ” “The Gaye Holud is here.” She smiled. “How a...

Purnota: Chapter Fifteen

A week was all it took for Bondita to get used to work and the new routine. She would wake up early and hurry through her chores, helping Kalindi prepare a tiffin of either Chirer Polao or bread jam and then proceeding to the Roy Chowdhury house. She would arrange the day’s paperwork before Aniruddha arrived at the study room. Occasionally, she would hear him call out to Koeli for breakfast and pack her things, knowing he was almost ready to leave. He would walk into the chamber, check his list, and they would go to work. She would follow him from courtroom to courtroom. She would be sitting in the audience and learning. She would follow him to conferences and client meetings and take notes. They would discuss complicated cases. She would share the tiffin she brought from home. He would at first take a reluctant bite, then eat more than her. She often gave him her share of food discreetly. They usually stayed back after everyone was gone and ordered food for dinner. Some days, he woul...

Purnota: Chapter Twenty Three

“So the question is, do the slum dwellers get their dues to relocate, or do they protest on the road, grabbing media attention? If one of them mentions the sewage project where all this started, we can’t guarantee not dragging certain names then. It will be beyond our control.” Bondita breathed in as she eyed everyone at the table. The conference hall of ARC & Associates had an oval table with a whiteboard, projector and podium and sitting around the table were a stenographer, Bondita’s secondary attorney, Debashish Ghosal, the contractor and his attorney Biswas, the representative of the NGO with the Union leader of the slum, Trilochon, Somnath and Aniruddha. The people of the NGO appreciated her strategy with a nod. Ghoshal looked perplexed as his lawyer whispered something in his ear. Somnath did not look up from the table as Aniruddha passed a note to Trilochon in writing.  “Now the decision is yours.” Bondita continued. “We are keen on out-of-court settlement if our basic ...

Purnota: Chapter Nineteen

“Wake up, wake up!” Bondita smiled, amused at Aniruddha and Batuk sleeping on his bed, hugging each other like children. She removed the curtains, and the room was flooded in daylight. “Urgh.” Batuk stirred as Aniruddha sat up. “What is wrong with you?” Batuk threw the pillow Bondita caught before it hit the floor. Her wet hair shone in the sunlight, with droplets of water lingering on its tips as she adjusted her well-pleated orange saree with a blue border and opened the window. A gust of cold breeze blew in from the Ganges, prompting Batuk to pull his blanket over his face. “Let me sleep, Daini !” He murmured. “Is it not enough that you all gave away my room to guests?” Aniruddha was stretching and yawning as Bondita chuckled, amused, pulling her wet hair to the side of her shoulder. “Why are you dressed up?” Aniruddha asked, suppressing a yawn. “Oh, you should be, too. Jyatha Moshai said We are going to Kalighat.” She raised her brows, amused. “Oh shit,” Aniruddha murmured, hitting...