Deception

Spring 1609, Akbarabad Fort

Rukaiya Begum was leaning against the velvet cushions, eyes closed as one of her ladies in waiting massaged her head with fragrant extracted oil on a sunny afternoon, after a relaxing session at the Shahi Hamam. Mehr-Un-Nisa was sitting at her feet, reading out some new Persian poet’s work for her. A Eunuch arrived between the process and bowed, making Mehr-Un-Nisa stop at her reading and look up at him.

“Mariam Ur Zamani is here to see you, my Lady!” The announcement made Rukaiya Begum open her eyes, sit up straight and dismiss the girl massaging her head. She, of course, didn’t leave before tying the Dowager Queen’s henna-dyed hair into a bun and placing the veil just as it was over it. Mehr Un Nisa quickly followed suit and gathered the books scattered around the carpet to leave. She was surprised as Rukaiya Begum told her to wait with a gesture of the hand and asked the eunuch to bring the Queen Mother in.

Mariam Ur Zamani arrived clad in a creamy white self-embroidered lehenga, her veil bordered with white pearls, and the same pearl in three strands around her neck, with an emerald dazzling at her heart, in the light of the sun. She stopped to eye the only other person in the room, Mehr Un Nisa, who promptly stood up and bowed. A faint smile escaped Mariam Ur Zamani’s lips as she sat down on the cushion Rukaiya Begum directed her to.

“I thought we would be alone, Sultana Begum.” She spoke, rejecting the silver plate of dates Mehr picked up to offer her.

“We are, Mariam Ur Zamani.” Rukaiya Begum smiled, “What brings you here?”

“Well....” Mariam Ur Zamani eyed Mehr, making her feel uncomfortable as she smiled, “Can’t I visit you and check on your good health, Sultana Begum? The Padshah always used to be concerned about your well-being more than he was for the rest of the harem and...”

“He is no longer here.” Rukaiya Begum spoke rather plainly, “So no such courtesy is needed. Besides...” She stared at Mariam Ur Zamani and picked up a piece of date palm for herself “It’s been almost three years, you never came to ask about my good health...”

Mariam ur Zamani sighed.

“Sultana Begum, I heard from Sheikhu Baba... about.... umm... Khurram...” She eyed Mehr Un Nisa again, and this time Rukaiya Begum leaned in “Yes, he is going on his first expedition soon.”

“Yes, he has grown up beautifully.... all because of you.” Mariam Ur Zamani smiled with a nod.

“I am his mother; I did for him what all mothers do. I hope you know that.” Rukiaya Begum smiled. For she knew Mariam Ur Zamani didn’t. She had no say or control over Salim’s childhood, and in the later years, he was sent away to the Chisti Family’s care.

“Yes, of course.” Mariam Ur Zamani nodded. “Sheikhu Baba was concerned for his marriage. As Jagat Gossain pointed out that his first bride should be a Princess, like every other Timurid crown prince, he has...”

“But I have already told the Padshah Jahangir his choice of a bride.” Rukaiya Begum frowned.

“Indeed. He is well aware that... but the Timurid traditions...”

“I am his mother. Another Timurid tradition does say a mother chooses a bride. Being a Timurid Princess and Queen, I am well aware of my...”

“That is why Jagat Gossain wanted to choose his bride....” Mariam ur Zamani cut her words short in a hurry. “Pardon me, but she is the biological mother.”

“What did the Padshah say?” Rukaiya Begum looked clearly displeased as Mehr Un Nisa could read from her face.

“He chose the princess of Kandahar, the daughter of Sultan Muzzafar Hussain of the Safavid Dynasty himself!” Mariam Ur Zamani looked happy, “I will look after the arrangements of the wedding myself. Such a wonderful match between two powerful dynasties will only strengthen the emperor’s hold over Hind.”Mariam Ur Zamani stopped at Rukaiya Begum’s cold stare as her smile faded.

Rukaiya Begum dismissed a startled Mehr Un Nisa with the wave of a hand and sat staring at the carpet for a moment.

Mehr Un Nisa walked out of the premises of the Turkish Harem and scanned the grounds in search of Arjumand, who had come for her calligraphy classes. While the royal princesses made their way out of Salima Begum’s premises, she waited till she caught a glimpse of her niece. Mehr’s heart sank at the smile Arjumand flashed at her the moment their eyes met.

“Arju...” She dragged the startled girl by her hand to the other side of the garden, which stood deserted. “We need to talk.”

“What’s wrong, Phuphi?” Arjumand asked, scared, “Is Abbu alright?” The first fear that struck her was that her father was supposed to return from a long expedition of war in the west today, and perhaps he hadn’t made it.

“Arju... It’s not about that.” Mehr cleared her throat. “I have been there. I don’t want you to suffer.”

“What is wrong, Phuphi?” Arjumand looked clueless.

“Has... the Shehzaade promised you something?” Mehr asked, scared. Arjumand frowned at her words. She knew what Mehr meant, but she hadn’t told a soul except for her mother about being introduced to the emperor.

“Did he or did he not?” Mehr asked a little firm.

“I don’t know!” Arjumand said in a reflex as Mehr’s jaws tightened.

“The royal princes make promises that are only words to us, chieftains’ families. Remember that always, and you won’t be hurt.” Mehr’s words were carefully chosen and distant.

“What do you mean?” Arjumand looked at her face, a little pale.

“ Shehzaade Khurram is about to get married, to the bride his father chose for him, a Safavid princess.” Mehr Un Nisa left Arjumand numb, standing among the tulips in the garden, as an unknown sense of abandonment gripped her.

All this while, they met at the gardens, appreciated the creations of nature, laughed with Ladli, played with her, and taught her to read. All this while, he brought her little gifts, in books and handicrafts, every single one wrapped in red velvet, each piece of wrap she had neatly put aside in a wooden box. Did all of that mean nothing to him? Did he not mean the words of the poetry he read to her? Was all of it in her imagination? Did he not know what she felt and never have the bravery to admit it? She could barely move from her spot, yet she must. She dragged herself in a trance all the way home, maintaining her poise in front of the Eunuch who escorted her.

As her mother opened the door, Arjumand hugged her tighter than usual, as a taken aback Diwanji Begum looked worried.

“What’s wrong, Arju?” She asked, taking the sobbing and trembling girl to her room and shutting the door behind her.

“It’s... It’s... “ Arjumand stared at her mother, a droplet of tears escaping her eyes and falling on her cheeks “Shehzaade Khurram is getting married to the princess of the Safavid dynasty!”

“What?” Her mother looked taken aback.

Arjumand hid her face in the pillow and sobbed as her father knocked on the door.

“What’s wrong? Why is the door locked in the...” Asaf Khan stared at his daughter in tears, a little worried, “What happened, Begum?”

Arjumand took her parents' leave and retired to her chambers as Diwanji Begum narrated everything to her husband.

“Pardon me, but I think Mehr has a hand in this!” She said scornfully.

“What makes you think so, Begum?” Asaf Khan asked, surprised.

“Pardon my audacity, but she could very well be jealous of the fact that a girl like her, so talented and beautiful, couldn’t mesmerise the prince enough to marry him and my daughter...”

“Begum!” Asaf Khan dismissed her words, “You are forgetting the circumstances were different.”

“Fine! You won’t hear a word against your sister, so be it... But I am warning you...”

A soldier interrupted their conversation with a message that Asaf Khan took and looked at again and again.

“What’s wrong?” Diwanji Begum asked, a little startled.

“The Emperor wants to see me at the Diwan E Khas immediately. He asks for Abbu and Ammi to be present too. The Dowager Queen has summoned us.” He stared at his wife’s twinkling, hopeful eyes.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Khurram and Arjumand were engaged by their respective families sometime around the summer of 1609, before his December marriage to Qandahari Begum, whereas they did not get married till 1612 for reasons unknown. Some believe it was during these two years that Jahangir was busy wooing Mehr-un-Nisa to be his wife, and hence put the marriage of her niece on hold to coax her. Also said that after marrying her in 1611, it was she who reminded him of the pending matrimony of these two, who continued their much-talked courtship in the open, after the engagement and even Khurram’s marriage to Qandahari Begum.