The Last Ride

Ajabdeh woke up with a heavy head and still felt sleepy. She sat on the bed and drew the blanket over her bare shoulders as she remembered the night. A smile curved her lips as she looked out at the midday sun. She suddenly looked alarmed. It was midday. They were supposed to leave after breakfast. Why did nobody wake her up? Where was he? She quickly got dressed. Her mind was running. So many things were said and done the day before. She needed to talk to him.

She was greeted at the door by the packed luggage and Kasturi.

"I packed your luggage for you, ma'am. Sir said I should pack you some snacks, so I made sandwiches."

"Where is he?" She asked, looking around.

"He is yet to come downstairs."

"Why did you not wake me up, Kasturi? We were supposed to leave two hours ago." She narrowed her eyes at the clock.

"I am sorry, ma'am. Sir instructed us to let you sleep." She smiled, thanking her for her service and insisting she took a handsome tip before she turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Pratap had his aviator glasses on and walked past her towards the car.

"Put the luggage in Bahadur." He said to the guard, who did as he was told.

Ajabdeh silently went up to her side of the car and opened the door.

"Put her luggage on top." She heard him say, "She will be dropped off first." Ajabdeh inhaled. She glanced across at him, driving once they were on the highway.

"I sent Mrs Sekhawat a thank-you note and a bouquet." She spoke.

"I called Heer. She will be there when you arrive at the apartment. She will help you clean up and settle." He turned on the radio as she looked out of the window.

"We need to talk," Ajabdeh said almost in a murmur. The music was too loud. He didn't hear her. Or he pretended not to. He hadn't seen her eye to eye even once.

"Do you want sandwiches?" She asked a little louder.

"I am not hungry." He shook his head indifferently. Ajabdeh decided it was best to be quiet.

The car stopped at her old apartment. Ajabdeh could see Heer wave at her on the driveway.

"I will take the bags inside." Heer insisted, forcing a smile as her face looked pale. Ajabdeh nodded in silence and looked back at the man who handed the bags over to her sister.

"I…" Ajabdeh spoke as Pratap cleared his throat.

"I will see you around. Drop the papers by my office. I will sign them." Ajabdeh looked up at his words. He looked away. "Whatever makes you happy." He walked back to the car and drove off. Ajabdeh stood there watching his car leave.

Jaivanta's face looked pale as she exchanged glances with her worried husband. Her son was home. Alone. Shakti was about to follow Pratap up to his room as Udai gestured to him to stop.

"Leave him alone." His words were firm.

"I should talk to Ajabdeh first thing tomorrow," Jaivanta spoke, concerned.

"Don't you dare do that! I will visit her in a few days. Leave it to me." Udai spoke. "Unlike you, I will support them if they are happier apart." Jaivanta looked away.

Pratap rushed into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Then he sat down on the floor, hugging his knees close to his chest as tears flowed down his cheeks. He had lost her. He looked up at the pictures on the wall. The wedding day. The honeymoon selfie. The candid photo of her with animals at the rescue centre. His vision blurred. He held on to the nearest cushion he found close to his mouth and let out a silent scream. Ajabdeh was gone, and it was all his fault. He perhaps didn't ever find it important to say what he felt rather than show it. Now, in his desperate attempt to stop her, his words perhaps lacked value to her feelings. He was too late.

The moment Ajabdeh entered the apartment, the smell of fresh paint gave her a headache. Even lunch and a nap didn't help. When she woke up, it was raining outside. She popped a pill and stood on the balcony as Heer made tea.

"What would you like to have for dinner, Jija?"

"He said he loves me." She said almost in a murmur.

"What?" Heer looked clueless.

"He said he loves me." Ajabdeh smiled, a little surprised.

"And you thought he didn't?" Heer looked shocked. "Of course, he loves you."

"But… Heer." Ajabdeh looked out at the scene. "I didn't say it back." She looked alarmed. "That is why...that is why he left me."

"You are not making any sense, Jija. He didn't leave you. You told him to."

"You don't understand. " Ajabdeh shook her head. "He was there all along. He never said it. I missed the signs waiting for the words." Heer shook her head, clueless. "What did I do, Heer?"

Pratap sat staring at the wall. He was tired of crying and hungry because he skipped lunch and dinner and hadn't stepped out of his room since he arrived. Even Shakti couldn't get him to open the door. "Leave me alone, please." He had insisted. There he was. In the cold, dark room alone. His eyes dried up from all the tears. He couldn't close his eyes even for a second. Her face, her words, the feeling of her skin on his came haunting back. The previous night, for a very brief moment, he had thought that he had convinced her. That she was happy with him. She did make a move. She did hug him. But then she said she would never forget it. Their last night. What was he thinking? He banged his forehead against his hand in utter frustration.

Sibling's Day

Shakti always had a very strict sibling equation with Pratap. Though they were only two years apart, the siblings had very different tastes and preferences. For Shakti, Pratap's disciplined and well-planned life looked like he was missing out on a lot of things. He sometimes didn't even approve of how impulsive Pratap was when he was emotional. Shakti, on the other hand, prioritised experiences over plans. He never found a need to feel deeply for anything the way Pratap did, and over the years, mostly in Pratap's absence from the family, he had managed to find a way with his parents. But he didn't really have any other elder sibling figure. All his cousins' sisters were close to him and younger. But with Ajabdeh, he had developed this very strong connection over the past few weeks. As a child, Shakti's playmate in the house used to be Sajja, while his father worked, his mother ran NGOs, and Pratap was always found with his head in a book. Ajabdeh was up for an...

My Everything

Kunwar Pratap stormed into the Mahal at Gogunda amidst uncertainty and chaos. Happy faces of the chieftains and soldiers welcomed him as Rawat Chundawat, and some other chieftains stopped the ongoing Raj Tilak. A visibly scared Kunwar Jagmal looked clueless at a visibly angry Kunwar Pratap. Rani Dheerbai Bhatiyani hadn't expected Kunwar Pratap to show up, that too, despite her conveying to him his father's last wish of crowning Kunwar Jagmal. Twenty-one days after Udai Singh's death, she was finally close to a dream she had dared to dream since Jagmal was born. He was not informed about the Raj Tilak as per Dheerbai's instructions. She eyed Rawat Ji. He must have assembled the chiefs to this revolt against her son, against the dead king. No one except them knew where Kunwar Pratap was staying. It was for the safety of his family. " What are you doing, Chotima?" A disappointed voice was directed at her. She could stoop down so low? For the first time, an anger...

Happy Ending

Dheer had a sleepless night. Yes, she had killed the Maharani, but to seek revenge for her son. Jagmal was all she had for a dream, and Rana Pratap's first decision was to banish him. He had never been that tough with his other brothers who went with Akbar, then why him? Just because he wanted to be a king? Just because they brought a false letter and bought a few witnesses? Her son died in Ajmer, so young. And she had always blamed Ajabdeh Punwar for Rana's hard decision. After all, ever since she came as a support for Jaivanta Bai, she had been like his shield, even though creating misunderstandings didn't help Dheer Bai Bhatiyani. Ajabdeh had done the impossible, showing him the real face of his Chotima. What bothered Dheer now was whether he remembered anything, and most importantly, if she did. Dheer had turned pale at the song and smile Pratap gave, but if he knew she had killed Ajabdeh, it meant Survi remembered her walking to a dying Ajabdeh and confessing that ...

Begum Sahib: Forbidden Love

2nd June 1634, Burhanpur. " My heart is an endowment of my beloved, the devotee and lover of his sacred shrine, a soul that enchants mine." The Raja of Bundi had arrived at Burhanpur after a win in the war of Paranda. He had met the crown prince Dara and was honoured with a sword and elephant before he came to pay his respect to the Padishah Begum as per the norms of the court. Jahanara was writing in her room. Her maid came with the news, “Begum Sahib, the Raja of Bundi has arrived at court; he is at the Bagh to pay you his respect.” “Tell him to sit in the courtyard of my bagh, I will be there.” She had risen from her place, covered her face in the veil of her dupatta and walked to the place where he waited. “ Begum Sahib”, he had acknowledged her presence with a salutation. She returned the bow with a nod. She was sitting inside the arch while he was on the other side of the Purdah, the sun shining over his head as he took his seat on the velvet carpet th...

Queen of the Heart

Kunwar Pratap was in the Dangal Sthal practising his moves. Ajabdeh decided it was fair to know his strength before she summoned him. Sword in hand, in a white female warrior attire with only her face visible, she hid behind one of the large watchtowers of the Dangal, watching him move. She heard Rawatji say, "Your left hand is still weaker than the right one with the moves. Both should be perfect." A smile curved her lips. Knowing an opponent's weakness always helps, which is one rule of war she always remembered. Kunwar Pratap swung his sword with his left hand and turned around. He could sense someone watching; his sixth sense was never wrong. He looked around. Ajabdeh again peeped at the grounds to see that it was empty. He had left. She walked towards the empty ground, sword in hand. Suddenly, the cold blade of a sword was felt on her neck. She stopped still. " So someone was spying on me." His voice had a hint of taunt. " No, I was ... walking by......

Begum Sahib: An Introduction and chronology

Note to the readers: Women behind men in history fascinate me. I had been reading about the mothers and wives who changed men’s fortunes. But what about daughters and sisters? A few months back, I was looking for books on Mughal Ladies, mainly Noor Jahan and her work. In the bibliography credits, I had chanced upon “The Life of A Mogul Princess” By Jahanara Begum, the daughter of Shah Jahan. I had no idea about the book and thought it was another autobiography. Previously, I had read only about how she was imprisoned along with her father at Agra, and her involvement with Dara Shikoh, her younger brother, in connecting the two realms of Hinduism and Islamism and the establishment of Sufism. All of these and the chronological events of history can be found in various books. As I read each page of her diary, cross-checking each point with Jagunath Sircar’s “History of Aurangzib” and R.C. Majumder’s “Mughal Empire” as well as numerous other sources on the Mughal Harem, I discovered ...

The Adventure of PI Ved: The Case in London

There is something funny about the phrase “as dead as a doornail.” Why? Because I am dead and I don’t look like a nail of any sort. I lie on my living room carpet, hands stretched out, the knife stuck to my back...such a backstabber. I hated them all my life! And what is the purpose of killing me? It is not like I would have lived much longer, I was eighty-five, for God’s sake! I lay here, the blood turning thick as I stared at the painting on the wall. It is such a hideous painting. I bought it for so much money, I was duped. I am waiting for the morning when my caregiver arrives to discover me on the floor. But I feel they are still around, looking for something. Searching every room. It is around 7 AM that she rings the bell. She bangs the door. She yells out, “Mr Smith!” Oh no, she is going back. Come back here, you fool! The criminal must still be upstairs. I hear them come down the wooden staircase and exit from the back door. Now the useless caregiver lady is back. Oh, she ...

His Wife

" Where is the Kesar, Rama? And the Kalash?" Ajabdeh looked visibly displeased at the ladies who ran around. " They are at the fort gates, and nothing is ready yet!" She exclaimed. She was clad in a red lehenga and the jewellery she had inherited as the first Kunwarani of the crown prince. Little Amar ran down the hallway towards his mother. " Maasa Maasa... 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., " Ajabdeh." 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!" ...

Eternally Yours

Ajabdeh woke up to find neither the pillow nor the husband beside her. That was really unusual. Has she overslept? No, it was dark, and the first birds were singing. She sat up to find that he had neatly arranged the pillows and made his side of the bed, and put his blanket over her. She checked the changing room. No, he was not there, but unlike other days, his clothes were not in a mess. She freshened up and reached the dressing table. His brooch was not there. Where is he? Has the war... Her heart skipped a beat. What if he had left and not even woken her up? " Daasi? Daasi?" She called out as one of them walked in. " Ji Kuwaranisa?" " Where is Kunwarsa?" " He left early in the morning for Dangal and then a visit to the village. Do you need anything?" " No, you may go now." She put on the sindoor in worry. Maybe something urgent has come up. She walked to the Puja room and was shocked. Her garlands were made, the Chandan was in plac...

Purnota: Epilogue

“Hello?” Saudamini’s voice was heard on the other end of the telephone as Aniruddha breathed in. “Mini, this is Aniruddha.” “Oh, Ani, how are you? How is Bondita?” Her voice changed from doubtful to excited. Aniruddha was standing by the couch in the living room with a phone book on the coffee table and a sheet of paper with a guest list in his hand. The mention of Bondita made him involuntarily eye the visible corridor to the dining area, where he could hear her voice, instructing Koeli. Ever since the marriage, she seemed to have taken up the job of ordering everyone around the house like a true landlord, and even he was not spared from her occasional orders. That is exactly how he had landed on the couch with a phone book. “Umm… she is good. Everyone’s good. I’m calling because…” “Oh, do tell her I truly apologise for not attending the wedding. I know she was disappointed with me and thought it was some payback for her not attending mine.” An amused smile formed on Aniruddha’s lips ...

RAABTA

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