Secret Meeting

1608, Akbarabad

Jahangir was strolling through the garden path late at night, unable to sleep. The torches burned bright, and the jasmine 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 terrain of the 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 in pace. “Stop, or I will throw the weapon in your 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 wanted 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 of providing 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.

Purnota: Chapter Sixteen

It had been a month since Bondita had started working in the firm. With Somnath’s wedding date being set for winter, many things were keeping Trilochon and Kalindi busy as they took charge of the smooth running of things leading up to the wedding. They needed to shop for everyone, buy gifts and choose jewellery and sarees for the bride. Despite his attempts, Trilochon found Binoy reluctant to participate in his son’s wedding arrangements. Somnath took him and Kalindi to places they wanted to go, especially Kolkata for shopping, and Trilochon made arrangements to make sure that the first wedding of the generation was grand enough. Bondita tried to help as much as she could as she noticed Aniruddha being oddly aloof from the entire thing. She assumed it was due to Trilochon’s reactions to his lack of interest in marriage. Trilochon kept pestering her to enquire into his reasons while she kept stalling him with excuses. Bondita also failed to know more about Kalindi and Trilochon’s past, ...

Purnota: Chapter Fifteen

A week was all it took for Bondita to get used to work and the new routine. She would wake up early and hurry through her chores, helping Kalindi prepare a tiffin of either Chirer Polao or bread jam and then proceeding to the Roy Chowdhury house. She would arrange the day’s paperwork before Aniruddha arrived at the study room. Occasionally, she would hear him call out to Koeli for breakfast and pack her things, knowing he was almost ready to leave. He would walk into the chamber, check his list, and they would go to work. She would follow him from courtroom to courtroom. She would be sitting in the audience and learning. She would follow him to conferences and client meetings and take notes. They would discuss complicated cases. She would share the tiffin she brought from home. He would at first take a reluctant bite, then eat more than her. She often gave him her share of food discreetly. They usually stayed back after everyone was gone and ordered food for dinner. Some days, he woul...

Purnota: Chapter Seventeen

Bondita opened the curtains of her room at The Park to find the view of Stephen Court and the street below going towards the Maidan. She eyed the double bed and placed her things on one side while lying down on the empty side. The soft bed made her yawn as she sat up, staring at the clock. She needed to change for a quick dinner. They had an early matter at the High Court, and the client’s car was supposed to pick them up around 9 AM. As she changed into a full-sleeve black top and jeans, removed her earrings and adjusted her smudged Kajal, she heard a knock on her door. She opened it to find Aniruddha standing in a pair of jeans and a grey polo-necked T-shirt, his hair brushed back, as he cleaned his thin-rimmed glasses with the edge of his T-shirt. “Are you ready for dinner?” He asked, putting the glasses back on. As she nodded, she grabbed her handbag. They walked into The Bridge, and Bondita was a little conscious of her environment. Many foreign guests, businessmen and even s...

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“Why can’t she work? I will too.” Bondita had barged into the Roy Chowdhury living room early in the morning, still in her loungewear, as Aniruddha looked up at her through his glasses. Trilochon was showing Aniruddha some paperwork from one of their investments as Bondita stood by the coffee table, wearing a frown. Aniruddha looked confused. Trilochon cleared his throat as he shook his head at Bondita. “It's different. She is going to be the daughter-in-law.” Aniruddha eyed Trilochon and Bondita, who shook her head in disappointment. “So?” She questioned, “She can’t have a life?” “When a woman marries…” Trilochon stood up, straightening his Panjabi “Her life is about being a good wife and mother.” Bondita gasped. Aniruddha’s jaws tightened as he kept the papers down. Bondita spoke before he could. “Then by that logic, men should also concentrate on being husbands and fathers.” “Then who will earn the bread?” Trilochon rolled his eyes. Bondita eyed Aniruddha, expecting him to speak...

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Aniruddha eyed Trilochon, sitting at the desk in his room, attending to some paperwork. His reading glasses were on his nose, and he appeared engrossed in a financial document. He stood at the threshold, a bit unsure and glanced over his shoulder at Somnath, Batuk and Bondita. She gestured at him to go on. Aniruddha cleared his throat. That prompted Trilochon to look away from his document at his nephew. “Jethu, if you are busy, I can come back…” He suggested unsurely. “Come in and close the door.” Trilochon glanced over Aniruddha’s shoulder at the others who walked away hurriedly. Aniruddha closed the door, and Bondita tiptoed to place her ears on it. Batuk and Somnath stood at a distance. “So you met her?” Trilochon spoke while cleaning his glasses. Aniruddha nodded. Somnath had introduced them to Ashalata. Bondita, Batuk, and he had met them in a Dhaba off the highway. Although Bondita did most of the talking, initiating a friendly gesture to put the nervous Ashalata at ease, he had...

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RAABTA

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