Insecurities & Innocence

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 often wondered 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 my Amma or me. 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.