Secret Meeting

1608, Akbarabad

Jahangir was strolling through the garden path late at night, unable to sleep. The torches burnt bright and the Jasmines smelled like heaven in the moonlit night. He sat down beside a fountain restless and wary. Today the court session had worn him off. The expedition to Mewar had been unsuccessful for Mahabat Khan and he was disappointed in his most competent general. The Rajputs at court deemed him incompetent for the terrains of Aravallis. So Abdullah Khan was appointed on his behalf while Mahabat Khan was to leave for Dakkhan to be with Pervez. The emperor was worried about his second son. After a first successful expedition, Pervez seemed to lack the zeal needed to win wars. He had sent the best mangoes from Barhanpur to please the emperor but that did very little to the number of unsuccessful missions he carried out, and the opium addiction was on the rise as reported by Jahangir’s spies. Perhaps Mahabat Khan who knew the Dakkhan well could help him, and motivate him toward a life desirable to his status. Lost in his thoughts, unable to sleep, he sighed and stared at the clear sky. Innumerable stars shone in the night sky like a veil over it.

A faint sound of anklets caught his attention in the otherwise silent night. The anklet seemed to follow him, around the corridors of the garden and stopped when he grew alert. The sound was moving away slowly now.

In a reflex, Jahangir took out his dagger and tiptoed into the empty corridor leading to the Zenanas near the Jahangirmahal. He saw a shadow move in the distance.

“Stop!” He said as the shadow increased pace. “Stop or I will throw the weapon in hand. I don’t miss targets.” The shadow did stop. From the looks of things, the person was wrapped in a pashmina shawl.

“Show your face.” Jahangir frowned nearing the shadow carefully. The shadow didn’t move an inch.

“I said show me your face!” As his voice grew louder and firmer, alert and scared that it would grab the attention of the guards, Mehr Un Nisa turned and placed her finger over her lips to tell him to hush his voice.

Jahangir’s eyebrows arched as her face was visible in the light of the corridor torches.

“Mehr...” He heaved a sigh of relief “Why are you...”

“I wanted to talk to you.” She spoke almost in a whisper “About my grievances.” She was quick to add.

“Grievances?” Jahangir seemed amused. “Then be present at court tomorrow.” He said about to turn back towards the garden.

“No! Stop.” Mehr Un Nisa whispered a little firmly “Why do you keep sending me gifts?” She frowned.

Jahangir smiled faintly. He knew what would bring her to him and it worked.

“Because I want to get back what I lost.” He spoke, carefully putting his dagger away in the pouch.

“How can you be so...” colour flushed from Mehr’s face as her heart skipped a beat.

“I meant the respect... The respect you had for me once.” Jahangir cut her words short interrupting with a faint smile “What did you think I want back, Mehr?”

“Do not send me those gifts. I beg you. You are going to make my life difficult in the harem once again. “She sighed looking away. “I have just started working. The Sultana Begum has been very kind to me. I don’t want to lose my job.”

“Did anyone say anything?” Jahangir frowned with sudden concern taking a step towards her and stopping at her cold glance.

“Nobody dares to say things to my face of course. But they speak behind my back.” She spoke under her breath.

“When did you start getting affected by what people say?”Jahangir frowned.

“I am a mother to a child. I don’t want her to grow up thinking her father was murdered by the people she grew up around and her mother was a mistress to the emperor.” Mehr Un Nisa clenched her jaw.

“You still think I...” Jahangir looked disappointed.

“I said she will think...” Mehr Un Nisa corrected.

“So you realise that I didn’t...” Jahangir asked with hope.

“This isn’t about me. I am not here for me. Ladli shouldn’t look at me as a mistress...”

Jahangir felt irked. “How can you belittle what we had like this Mehr? You think I treated you like a mistress? Didn’t you know I tried to....? I tried so hard! Arsh Arshiyani was not ready to accept us... I did try...”

“I am not concerned about the past anymore Shahenshah E Hind! That Mehr Un Nisa is long dead and gone forever. Your constant shower of kindness now is what concerns me. I don’t want to be called someone’s mistress. I am the widow of a very honourable man. And your precious gifts do very little to increase your respect and a lot to decrease mine. I am not a child to be lured by gifts.”

“Those are for Ladli. To give her the life she deserves. The life she would have had at her father’s.” Jahangir corrected.

“Ladli will grow up with self-esteem and understand the value of things. Things only her mother is capable to provide for her.” Mehr Un Nisa said firmly. For a moment Jahangir realised that ever since he became emperor no one ever spoke to him in the tone she dared to use. Perhaps because, subconsciously in her mind, she was still speaking to Salim. Her Salim.

“Fine. I will stop. But what do I get for it?” Jahangir asked crossing his arms against his chest.

Mehr Un Nisa let out a sigh and stared at him.

“I want something! Everything can’t happen on your terms here. I am the emperor.” He shrugged.

“I can say that I am grateful for what you did for my child, and perhaps I don’t hate you or blame you, will that do?”

“What about you Mehr? Can I do nothing for you?” Jahangir looked into her eyes, and his heart raced once again.

“Make sure Mehr Un Nisa is not remembered for being your mistress. Make sure years later, she is respected for being who she is. Not cunning. Not manipulative. Not ‘cursed’ with opinion.” Mehr Un Nisa stared at his grim face “Can you do that?” She shook her head. “I guess not!”

Mehr Un Nisa walked away into the shadows from where she came. Jahangir stood in the corridor watching. Then he sighed.

Jahangir sat down thinking; Mehr’s words playing in his head, making him feel helpless. It was true, this world was perhaps not kinder to women like her; ones who wore their heart on their sleeves, or said what they felt without a veil over it, or had a clear idea and opinion about things. The world would perhaps never call him out for being a coward when she needed him to stand up for her or when Nadira was executed for loving him. Every word stabbed his heart as finally realisation dawned with the first light of dawn.

“I know exactly what I should do Mehr. I am not sure you are ready for it yet.” He walked away towards his chambers.

The story of Nadira more popularly known as Anarkali is original folklore and was written much later as a poem of love and sacrifice. Nobody called Anarkali ever existed. However, there is a tomb very popular as Anarkali’s tomb, most probably belonging to Shah Begum. Some contemporary writers did mention a rift between Akbar and Salim over a dancer girl who fell for him but no such scandal is mentioned by Jahangir, Badaoni or Abul Fazl clearly in their accounts. For the sake of this fiction, she was a sweet distraction Salim took to, for losing Mehr and eventually her love for him cost her life.

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His Wife

" Where is the Kesar, Rama? And the Kalash?" Ajabde looked visibly displeased at the daasi who ran. " They are at the fort gates and nothing is ready yet!" She exclaimed. She was clad in a red Jora and the jewellery she had inherited as the first Kunwarani of the crown prince. Little Amar ran down the hallway towards his mother. " Maa sa Maa sa... who is coming with Daajiraj?" His innocent question made her heart sink. " Bhanwar Ji." Sajja Bai called out to him. " Come here I will tell you." Amar rushed to his Majhli Dadisa. " Ajabde." She turned at Jaivanta Bai's call. "They are here." " M... My Aarti thali..." Ajabde looked lost like never before. Jaivanta Bai held her stone-cold hands, making her stop. She patted her head and gave her a hug. The hug gave her the comfort she was looking for as her racing heart calmed down. Jaivanta Bai left her alone with her thaal. " Maa sa!" Amar exclaimed

My Everything

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To Protect You

Kunwar Pratap was in court with Rana Udai Singh. The Mughals were conquering a huge part of the north courtesy of Bairam Khan and Mewar on their routes to the ports of Gujarat. " Dajiraj we need to secure the roads leading to Agra and also towards the west. The attack-prone areas should always be under surveillance." " Yes Ranaji. Baojiraj is right." Rawatji agreed. In the Rani Mahal, everyone was preparing for a grand lunch. Ajabde was making a sweet dish for the princes and princesses and in a hurry, she forgot to add the Kesar and Badam on top. As she served the smaller princes including Kunwar Jagmal, Dheerbai came to inspect her eldest son's food. " What is this? Who made this? Kokoiaji?" She stormed to the kitchen with a bowl of sweet dishes. " Kunwaranisa did." Came a scary answer, from Veer Bai. " Ajabde Baisa." Her words let out a silent gasp from the lesser queens who stood witness. Calm and composed, Ajabde walked up

Towards You

Kunwar Pratap and Ajabde were friends. He didn't feel awkward sharing his plans and thoughts with her anymore. She was more than happy to advise him on everything. She was happy he listened to her advice before taking or discarding them, be it on what to wear to Padmavati's Sagai or how to befriend the revolting Bhils. He loved the way Ajabde always used metaphors from Puranas and Ramayanas to explain the toughest things so easily. She expressed herself so well, so easily that it amazed him. The Afghans were now led by Mehmood Shah. They have made secret territories in the forests and waited to attack. Rawatji and his spies had confirmed the news and Udai Singh had warned Mehmood Shah to withdraw his troops from Mewar in vain. Now, it was time they declared war. Mehmood Shah had limited resources in Mewar. And 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. One of his aides

Chapter Two: Catastrophe

Abhaya was suffocating as she could now taste the soot and ash in her mouth. She could see the smoke engulf her. The boxes around her turned into shadows in the blurred vision. She opened her mouth to breathe but the choking air wanted to make her cough. She ran, stumbling upon some boxes and utensils towards the window on the other side. It was shut firmly and her weak hands could do little to move it an inch. She placed the end of her saree over her face and coughed, hoping not to be heard from the outside. The sound of chaos and footsteps outside was increasing. She heard a scream. Was it her mother? Her sister? Or one of the sisters-in-law? Were they escaping? Should she try too? She tried to find something to break the window with, but instead, she froze at the sight of flames entering through the cracks of the door she had shut behind her. Abhaya said a soft prayer. This is how it ends. This was not the country her father served. This was not the country her mother read stories o

Love?

“I swear I can kill that Sakhaveer.” Balwant swung his sword at the Dangal as Ratan and Ajabde looked on. Ajabde hid a smile as Ratan looked amused. “Like you did last time?” Ratan’s chuckle made Ajabde press her hands with a soft no as Balwant stopped his sword and looked angry. “What do you know Ratan?” He roared angrily. “What do girls know anyways about fighting??” “Jija can fight better than you.” Ratan looked angry and defensive. “Ratan! Leave it.” Ajabde insisted. “No!! Jija, I saw you, you are better…” “Then let’s have a duel Jija.” Balwant insisted. “No.” Ajabde looked surprised and shaken. “It’s been such a long time since I have …” “No excuses Jija, teach him! That girls can be…” Ratan insisted as Balwant handed her a sword she took rather reluctantly. She tied the corners of her dupatta together and her braid in a bun. Kunwar Pratap was making his way out at the Dangal when he heard swords clash. He gathered the father-son duo would be at the Dangal

Destiny

The war was almost won. A few of Marwar’s soldiers were left on the field along with Rao Maldeo Singh Rathore, their king and leader. He was thinking of retreating at the end of this day. As his sword clashed with one of the opponent generals as he eyed the opponent King now open and prone to attack. A little hope flickered in his mind as his eyes instructed his closest aide. The opponent was quite in a winning situation thanks to their new Senapati. He was just 16 yet his bravery and valour reflected his blood and upbringing. He mesmerised the opponents and even Rao Maldeo with his clever war strategies and sword skills. As Maldeo’s aide swung his sword at a taken aback Udai Singh, someone’s sword defended it as his body acted like a shield for the king. He killed the man in one go. “ Ranaji are you okay?” “ Haan Raoji.” He nodded gratefully. By half the day, the Marwar army had retreated as the air filled with “ Jai Mewar! Jai Eklingji!” From the triumphant soldiers. Rana Udai Si

Chapter Three: Pedigree

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Understandings

After counting days, Ajabde was happy that she was going to Bijolia. She knew how eager her mother and Ratan would be to know about her new life. She couldn't wait to hug her mother and feel like... Home. She was selecting gifts for her parents and her siblings as per Ranima's instructions. Then suddenly an idea struck her mind. Her new family welcomed her with so much love and support. Especially Ranima and Majhli Maa Sa. She wanted to give them something. Suddenly she remembered that Ranima had loved her embroidery work on dupattas back in Bijolia so she called a Dasi and ordered some plain Chunris and embroidery threads. She had a lot of work to finish in a day before leaving. Kunwar Pratap came back into the room to see her on the floor, right in the middle of the room with red, green, yellow, and pink all sorts of dupattas scattered. " What's all this?" He asked not sure if he should be asking. " I am making gifts. For Ranima, Majhli ma, Rani Dheer Bai

Friends?

Early morning, Ajabde walked into Saubhagyawati’s house as the Panditji looked relieved. “Baisa you are here now I don’t need to look after anything.” She walked into Saubhagyawati’s room and found her braiding her hair nervously. Her lehenga looked beautiful and only the maangtika was about to be put so Ajabde did the honours. Saubhagyawati held her hand and took a deep breath. “Ajabde have a confession.” “What is it Bhago?” She looked worried. “Are you scared?” “No no Ajabde it’s not that. I… met him… before…” “Whom?” “The one who is coming to see me.” She looked away scared. “What? How…” Ajabde looked at her with wide eyes. “woh… Both nights when I waited for you in the…” “Hai Bhagwan Bhago! What if he says that seeing you in front of your father?” Ajabde spoke up as Bhago looked shocked. Why didn’t she think that before? “What will we do now?” Bhago asked worriedly. Ajabde was lost in thoughts. No way could people know. The groom had arrived with

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