1608, Akbarabad Fort
Jodha Bai sprinkled some perfume over her
long braids and wrapped a jasmine garland around them. He always loves my hair. Putting Kohl in her eyes to highlight
them, she placed her mang tika straight and looked at her reflection in the
mirror. The emperor had decided to spend the night with her after a long time.
One of her serving girls brought her a box of beetle nuts, and she checked herself
in the mirror.
“You look stunning, my Begum!” Her eunuch
exclaimed, making her smile. “It’s time to visit the Shahenshah, he must be
waiting!”
Jagat Gossain made her way through the
corridors towards his room, thinking of everything she needed to speak to him
about tonight.
Jahangir stopped at the reflection of his
favourite queen at the threshold as she bowed slightly. Immediately, the smell
of Jasmine and her well-recognisable perfume filled the air in his chamber.
Jahangir dismissed his servants who were helping him untie his robes with the
gesture of his hand. Tonight, he
thought, I will drown in the beauty of
Jodha Begum’s desire and forget all about her. Her? The very thought brought back fresh memories of Mehr-Un-Nisa’s
eyes on his, and he brushed away the feeling of emptiness once again. Smiling,
he nodded at her to enter his chambers for the night.
Jodha Begum sat down on the sofa and
offered him some sweets she had brought along. These sweetmeats were filled
with Aphrodisiacs like pistachios and saffron. He took one from the plate,
forcing his concentration on her with a smile.
“Jahanpanah....” As soon as Jahangir leaned
in, Jagat Gossain stopped him. “We need to talk.”
“Talk?” Jahangir was visibly irked. He had
an inkling of her growing rivalry with the otherwise diplomatic and gentle
Sahila Banu Begum, and the last thing he wanted to hear tonight was about their
internal issues.
“Begum... I....” Jahangir frowned at a now
unsure Jagat Gossain, who swiftly added “It’s about Khurram.”, as though she
read his mind.
“Khurram?” Jahangir sat upright, a little
alarmed. Jagat Gossain smiled faintly, catching his attention. “What about
Khurram?”
“Jahan Panah.” Jagat Gossain cleared her
throat.”You have declared that he is ready to go on his first campaign. Maybe
it is time we found him a bride.”
“Yes, yes...” Jahangir murmured, lost in
thought, “Badi Ammi...”
“ Please!” He was startled at her holding
his hand in both of her warm palms. “Can I not at least have the pleasure
of choosing a bride for him? His first?” Jagat Gossain’s eyes sparkled in the
light of the lamp as Jahangir stared at her face. “I have been denied my rights
over my only son all my life, and never have I complained...”
“You know it was not in my hands when the
late emperor ordered...”
“I know! But you are the emperor now. He
granted his begum her wish; can you not grant me one?” Jahangir slowly slipped
his hand from her grip and stared at the carpet thoughtfully, as Jagat Gossain
continued.
“I have always wanted to choose Khurram’s
first wife like your mother chose yours, and perhaps the late emperor’s mother
chose the Sultana Begum.” Jagat Gossain stole a glance at her husband as she
continued, “A princess befitting to be his first wife, a princess of noble land
and birth, perhaps from my own kin...”
“ Jodha Begum!” Jahangir’s voice was firm
and clear as he looked up from the carpet at the flickering light of the lamp,
“I agree with you that his first wife, the probable mother to a Timurid heir, should be a Princess of noble birth and land...” Jagat Gossain smiled at
victory silently. That girl had no land or royalty. Neither did her aunt.
“But...” She stared at the emperor as her
smile began to disappear. He looked up at her.
“I would like to look for a bride of Persian
heritage for him.” He was stern. She fell quiet.
“But I will keep your word, for you are
true, his mother.” Jahangir nodded, “He shall be wedded to a princess and a
noble one at that. I shall choose his bride.” Jagat Gossain looked
surprised at his last words. “Am I not his father too?”
Jagat Gossain forced a smile as Jahangir held her in an embrace. Tonight, she had half won a battle for the first time. Tonight, he needed to drown in the ecstasy of her body and the wine. She celebrated a victory; he was busy forgetting a loss.
The leaves of autumn were painted on a canvas of violets, browns, reds and oranges, and Khurram sat in the orchards, under a tree, staring up at the afternoon sun through the shades of these leaves. Jahangir was away from the capital, on his yearly trip to Kashmir, and he had taken Mariam Ur Zamani along too. Rukaiya Begum promised him to talk of his engagement to his choice of a bride to celebrate his coming of age as soon as the emperor returned; until then, he was not supposed to talk of it with anyone, not even Arjumand. Ammi said people were waiting to jeopardise his life, but he didn’t know why.
Khurram wondered what Kashmir, the land so
talked of by the emperor, was like. He wanted to visit too. But the thought of
not seeing Ammi or Arjumand every day made him feel homesick. Ammi reminded him
often of how he had to stay away from home for months when he would be given charge of the land, or how his great-grandfather stayed away from his family
for years for the sake of a future. Khurram sighed. Was he meant for great
things like that? He always prioritised different things from the rest of the
princes. He didn’t want to stay away from Ammi for long; she was showing signs
of getting old. He feared losing his loved ones. She was the closest he had.
Khurram also had an eye for beauty, and
sometimes the red stone carvings of the fort failed to mesmerise him like
Fatehpur Sikri did, in its architectural grandeur. He often visited the Dargah
in white marble and imagined what a palace built with such white stones would be
like. He wondered often how beautiful nature was painted by the One above, with so
many colours and patterns in absolute chaos and order. He remembered his last
visit to Fatehpur Sikri with his Shah Baba when the Emperor took time to
explain the significance of each pattern to him. How stone buildings could
immortalise the thoughts of a man! Just like nature was a reflection of the
thoughts of the One above.
The
sound of footsteps on the dried leaves made him look up to see Arjumand and
Ladli carefully approaching him. He sat up and greeted Ladli with a smile.
“Look what I got for you.” He held out an
apple that Ladli took with a smile.
“Thank him.” Arjumand scolded.
Ladli bowed gracefully, something she had
learnt recently in school. Shehzade Khurram smiled, impressed first at her,
then at Arjumand, who smiled back.
“Did you read the book?” He now asked
Arjumand, moving slightly aside in his place, to make a place for her under the
shed of the tree.
“Yes.” She held out a copy of Hafiz’s poetry
and smiled. “I didn’t memorise all of it, though. Take it back. Thank you.”
“Take it back?” Khurram let out a slight
laugh “I got it for you, as a gift.”
“A gift?” She frowned. “Why?”
“Because I... wanted to strengthen our
friendship.” He smiled at her. Arjumand looked away.
“But I have nothing to gift you...” She
said with a confused look, “What will I tell my mother? I took a gift without
returning one, that too from the Shehzaade?”
“Okay, then give me what I want from you!”
Khurram smiled thoughtfully.
“How can I, a mere citizen, give you what
you want?” Arjumand shook her head.
“Well, don’t worry, I will ask you for
something only you can give!” He nodded.
“What?” Arjumand frowned “You are confusing
me, Shehzaade! I have nothing to offer you.”
“Oh, you are so naive; I really like you for
that!” Khurram laughed, and Ladli, who had no idea why he was laughing, laughed
along with him.
“Shehzaade.” Arjumand looked a little red
with embarrassment as she spoke, “My mother said you and I can’t be friends....”
“Why?” Khurram frowned, stopping while Ladli
still imitated his laugh while chasing a butterfly close to the ground.
“When I told her that we... You introduced
me to the Dowager Queen and the Emperor, she said I can’t be your friend or else
I will end up like Mehr Phuphi.”
“What?” Khurram frowned “What was that
supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know.” Arjumand shrugged “She
won’t say. But she doesn’t like Phuphi.”
“But I like her. Shah Ammi says she is very
intelligent and well-read. She also said that your Phuphi was a helper of my
wet nurse when I was small. I don’t remember it, though.”
“She is indeed intelligent.... but Shehzaade...”Arjumand
let out a sigh.
“Don’t worry so much about what ifs, Arjumand.
I will always honour this friendship. I promise.” Khurram held her hand in his
palm as he spoke, and in a reflex, Arjumand moved away. He was quick to
apologise. But Arjumand got up to leave.
“Come along, Ladli, I have to be home before
the last hour of the day.”She called. But Ladli was still busy chasing the
butterfly.
“It is okay.” Khurram shook his head, “I am
going to the Harem too, I will take her along.”
“Are you sure?” Arjumand asked, “I don’t
want to impose...”
“Go home now, or else you will be scolded
for being late for class. And don’t be so formal with me. It feels like you
are talking to my title, not me.”
“That’s not true, Shehzaade.” Arjumand
protested, “I do like to spend time with you, not because of who you are.”
“I know that.” Khurram smiled, “So don’t be
formal.” Arjumand nodded in agreement and left.
Khurram gave Ladli his finger to hold as
she walked alongside him back to the Harem.
“So tell me, Ladli... are you studying
well?”
“Yes, Shehzaade.” She beamed.
“Are you happy in the Harem?” Khurram
frowned at the silence that followed.
“I....” The child looked sad. Khurram knelt
before her and asked, “What’s wrong? You can tell me.”
“I don’t have friends here. Nobody likes me
or my Amma. They say things!”
“What things?” Khurram frowned concernedly.
“I don’t know. But Amma is at work all day, and nobody plays.” Ladli shook her head.
“I see. Then why don’t you come to play with
the princesses whenever you want to?”
“Princesses?” She looked scared.
“Yes, Ladli, my sisters are very caring. I
will tell them about you. And you can also play with Shahryar. He is my half-brother. He is about your age, I think!” Khurram wondered. “I will introduce you
to them someday.” Ladli beamed with joy as Khurram smiled. Something so pure in
this child made him happy to be around her.
Prince Shahryar, the son of Fatehbadi Biwi, one of his father’s lesser wives, was perhaps a few months older than Ladli. If rumours of the harem were to be believed, then his feminine ways and attraction towards dressing up or playing dolls with the princesses were a concern to the elders. He, unlike the other boys his age, had no interest in boys’ games and was often left alone or teased for that. Khurram felt bad watching from a distance as the young boy got bullied, but his mother forbade him from intervening. Perhaps Ladli would make a better playmate for him than those boys. He wondered still about what Arjumand’s mother meant. Did Mehr Un Nisa have a dark past that they were unaware of? He knew he could not ask anyone in the Harem, but he felt deeply concerned for Ladli Begum.
