Mehr Un Nisa wiped off her tears, hidden behind the window screen of the jharokha she stood at, happy that Arjumand had found a love who would fight for her.
She quietly made her way through the
corridor, lest the lovers catch a glimpse of her and be embarrassed. As she
tiptoed towards the Zenana, she stopped as a figure moved in the shadow, and her
heart skipped a beat. Behind a screen, hidden like her, stood watching the
lovers, the emperor Jahangir himself, whom she once called her Salim. Jahangir
smiled a melancholy smile, watching the lovers in an embrace, when he shook his head
and looked up at the empty corridor to see Mehr Un Nisa standing there, almost
like he was imagining her. Mehr Un Nisa held her breath, tightened her jaws and
looked away, bowing slightly and formally as he straightened himself, perhaps a
little embarrassed at being caught stealing a glance at his son’s private moment.
“I ...err...” All of a sudden, he was at a loss for words. In his head, again and again, between glasses of wine he
savoured, Jahangir had imagined this very moment, when he would again catch a
glimpse of Mehr alone, perhaps away from all the judgemental eyes of the
Zenana, and speak to her.
“Salam Jahan Panah.” Her words hit him like a knife cut through what remained of his heart. He cleared his throat
again. “I was just...” Two steps towards her, two very carefully measured steps
and eyes met. Mehr Un Nisa hated herself for how he still affected her just by being present near her. Wasn’t he the one for whom Ladli is now
fatherless? She took a step back, careful enough, hoping not to offend the
emperor.
Jahangir stopped with a faint smile, “Mehr... how are you?” His voice was almost like a whisper, as though he was
about to choke. Memories flooded Mehr Un Nisa at that very moment. Memories of
secret meetings, hopes and dreams, and promises never kept. The romance she felt
in his touch, just like yesterday, she remembered the taste of his lips and the
smell of his skin. Mehr Un Nisa shook away the sinful thoughts. What was she
doing? This is how she mourned her dead husband?
“I... have to go.” She walked past him in a
hurry and, almost in a reflex, just like he used to, Jahangir caught hold of her
wrist, startling her. Her heart raced. She needed to stop. She needed him to
stop.
“Please...” Her plea almost died on her
lips.
“I asked how you are. And how is your
daughter?” His voice seemed firm.
“I... am good. I ...Ladli misses her
father.”
“Do you?” He asked, letting go of her hand
as she stood there.
“Yes, of course.” Her words came louder than
they should have. “He was my husband.”
“It’s been two years now, Mehr. I am sorry
for your loss, but...”
“Sorry?” Mehr Un Nisa looked up at him with
a faint smile, turning back to face him once again, “You are sorry?”
“Yes, Mehr, I am. He was a good human being.
We may have had our differences, but he was an asset to the kingdom, whose loss
I mourned.”
“Did you, Jahan Panah?” The hint of
sarcasm in her voice was inevitable. Jahangir frowned. Did she think he killed
her husband?
“Every single day of my life for the past two
years, I have blamed myself for his death. It should have been me, your dear brother
Koka should have killed. Not him!”
“What are you saying, Mehr?” Jahangir looked
visibly angry now “You think I sent him to kill Ali Quli and steal your
happiness?” He looked at her in disbelief.
“I am also not saying that you didn’t. You
had enough reasons. Your ego took innocent lives before, didn’t it? Or you
forgot them?” As much as Mehr Un Nisa showed her anger, Jahangir saw in her glimpses of the woman who spoke her mind, never sugar-coated her opinion and
was braver than many he met.
“If you are talking of Nadira, then no, I do
remember her and I never could love her the way she loved me. I am guilty of
that. But I never sent Koka to Bardhaman. I didn’t even know he went there, Mehr. I didn’t know until it was too late.” Jahangir let out a sigh.
“I don’t believe a word you say anymore. I
am not that naive!” Mehr Un Nisa tried hard to control the teardrops that
lurked in the corner of her eyes.
“I would have never tried to steal your
happiness, Mehr. Every single day for the past years, I have remembered you and missed you. Hoped that you missed me. I went on expeditions with your husband. He
saved my life. That is when I knew he deserves you, Mehr. Perhaps more than Shehzaade Salim ever did. But the fact is, I never stopped loving you, heaven
knows that! And it knows that I love you still.” Jahangir looked up to see Mehr
Un Nisa had turned and run away from him, towards the corridor, and was not waiting
for him to finish his words. “Take me back, Mehr. I will do anything to have
your love back.” Jahangir said the last words under his breath, shook his head and kept staring at the empty corridor.
Mehr Un Nisa ran into her chambers before
the first droplet of tears escaped her eyes and fell on her rosy cheeks. Her
cheeks were flushed from the happenings, and she soon realised that she was
speaking to the Emperor in a tone unfit for a lady in waiting, and she could
very well be punished for that.
“Amma?” She looked up at Ladli, who was
three, staring at her pale face, concerned, “Are you alright, Amma? Did anyone
scold you?” Mehr Un Nisa hugged her tight in an embrace so that she could hear
her child’s heartbeat.
“No, my child, I am okay.” She whispered.
But in that silent embrace, Mehr couldn’t help but think, “What if the Emperor was telling the truth? What if he had never tried to
kill my husband? If he wanted to, he had more opportunities himself. What if
there was someone else?”
Rukaiya Sultana Begum was sitting in the
Bagh with a few peacocks roaming free around her. The fresh air and sunset, prayers
from a distance, along with the bells of the temples, made music to her ears and
brought peace to her heart. Her Eunuch came and bowed. She nodded. He leaned
and whispered something into her ear. Rukaiya Begum’s brows narrowed, and then
she smiled, staring at the doves frolicking in the waters of the fountain.
Mehr Un Nisa was startled by the knock on her door, fearing that she now had to face the punishment for insulting the
emperor of the state. Instead, one of the older ladies in the quarter, Khatuna,
stood at the door with a plate covered in velvet. Mehr frowned. “What is
this?” She asked as Khatuna pushed her way into the room and closed the door
behind her.
“This is sent by the Emperor. For your
child.” She opened the flap, and there were tiny animal figures, curved in
beautiful ivory. Mehr Un Nisa looked surprised.
“I don’t want such gifts. Take them back, Khatuna Begum.” She looked away “My child isn’t fit enough to play with royal
toys I can’t afford.”
Khatuna placed the toys down, where Ladli
could reach them, gesturing at the eager-eyed child to have them. Ladli stared at
the toys and stopped to seek her mother’s permission.
Khatuna dragged Mehr Un Nisa to a corner
away from the child.
“ Sometimes bravery is foolish, Mehr. What are
you doing? You can’t reject the emperor’s gift!”
“You are saying that? Don’t you know...”
“I do my child. But look at you. Think
of Ladli. If her father were here, he
would have given her the things she wanted. You wanted a better life for the
child, didn’t you? Then please the emperor.” Mehr stood silent, staring at Ladli
for a brief moment as Khatuna continued, placing her old, wrinkled palm over
Mehr’s shoulder.
“Look, my child, not many who once enter
these quarters can ever go back outside and live a better life. We all live and
die, hoping for a better life someday. Here you have an opportunity that not many
get. We all know what the emperor feels for you....” Khatuna sighed. “If he
asks you to be his lover or concubine...”
“Mehr Un Nisa is the daughter of Ghiyaz
Begh and wife of Ali Quli Khan.” Mehr stared at the lady firmly “She never
learnt to sacrifice her self-respect for the sake of a better lifestyle.” She
shook her head, “I will take the gift for Ladli’s sake, but I will NOT be
someone’s object of lust.”
“You are not thinking straight, my dear.”
Khatuna shook her head. “Mothers need to do a lot of things they don’t want to
for the sake of their children.”
“And can Ladli ever live in the Harem with
dignity if her mother becomes the emperor’s mistress?” Mehr asked, making
Khatuna sigh. She left in silence.
The next day, when Mehr came back from work,
Khatuna was there, playing with her child. She offered the old lady water before her eyes fell on the new curtains and mattress for the bed.
“The emperor ordered me to renovate your
room, befitting of your heritage, my dear. He didn’t offer you an option.”
Khatuna stood and walked towards the trunks “Also, these are new clothes for
you and Ladli.” Mehr felt suffocated in the grandeur. Could she not stop him?
Was there any way she could confront him and perhaps tell him not to make her a
target for the ladies at the quarters? She knew that by the time Khatuna left
her room, the gossip of this gesture would reach across the harem.
“Khatuna?” Her words made the old lady stop
at her threshold. “I want to meet the emperor.”
“You do?” Khatuna smiled at her. “He was
expecting you to.” Mehr’s jaws tightened at how predictable she was to him.
“I will arrange a meeting and let you
know.” Khatuna walked away as Mehr sat down, watching Ladli play in the fine
silk curtains that hung from the window. Her giggles filled Mehr’s heart, yet
she was shrouded in a sense of emptiness and guilt. The more she accepted
Jahangir’s gestures or forgave him, the more she felt like she was betraying
her dead husband. For once in her life, Mehr wasn’t brave enough to face her
feelings and fears.
The gifts, however, didn’t stop; they only decreased in frequency, and neither was she offered an option to reject them. Every time Khatuna arrived, Mehr requested a meeting with the emperor, and Khatuna promised one. But truth be told, Khatuna wasn’t brave enough to ask the emperor for a meeting on her behalf, unsure as to how he would react. The last thing Khatuna wanted at this age was to be thrown out of the Harem by displeasing the emperor. Mehr was slowly losing her patience.
