Hijr: Letter One

In these thoughts to my soul,

I know not what to write, yet I shall, for these ears are drawn towards your home.

It is the most foreign of lands that we call our home, where I and everyone who left the citadel have settled. A million graces of the heavens that before innumerable gnashes sheared away our desire to walk further, we found this sweet-smelling land by the Sarasvati, a river so full of life and plentiful. Although an envelope of sadness always wraps around our cotton, the conviction keeps the lamp burning.

By the grace of Lord Pashupatinath, I wish good health and happiness for you. Wish that is all I can muster for now, as I am well aware of how torn your heart must be, shattered into uncountable pieces of glass. Such is your grief, I know, your liveliness parched as a desert. We came with nothing, broke apart with nothing and slept with nothing; a bouquet of memories is all we have to share with our graves.

The sunset is strange, just like the day I had left and you stood by the Bath; your doe eyes, resplendent with the hues of setting dusk. Not a word escaped your lips, but I heard your sob, and you mine. That sunset continues to haunt me despite all these years. The gravel and silt from the hills have settled under the river, but my anguish has built a fort around my heart. Under the moonlight, when all fires have been extinguished and all speeches have been hushed, I sit in silence, watching the path towards you.

Oh! If only I could scribble in the wind. There aren't enough stones to inscribe my words for you. So, I shall keep it short.

The mornings begin differently than at the citadel. We have cows that I graze in the riverine pastures. The foreigners haven't yet discovered the beauty of this land, and we dare not dwell too far. We never knew the feeling of being imprisoned in freedom. Maybe we have to move again, or our grave will be dug on these very lands in the years to come. But, for now, our stocks are plentiful, the baths are brimming, the kiln is busy baking the bricks, and the priests mellow the fears of our kin.

In the past tide, waves of joy spread over our settlement as our boats returned with wealth and piles of riches from the sea lands. We rose from destitution, but know not how long we can sustain; the houses are lit with dances by the Bath, and we celebrate as we did at the citadel. We again found our appetite for jewellery, and the old potter's son now carves mesmerising pieces as lavish gifts.

All the world's wealth is in our thriving new settlement, yet there is a void. We are adorned in dazzling metal jewellery and cotton attire, but the poverty of our happiness wreaks havoc in our sleep. I hear the younger ones cry out with nightmares, and men spend the night watching the roads while elders patiently wait to be carried to the mound. We have everything, yet nothing.

And I? As the endless streams meet the sea, our streams will confluence in the sea of eternity. That shall be our home, where our souls shall light the night, and days will be spent in the cold embraces of our decaying selves.

I shall end here, for I fear a word more will burden you. I shall scatter the stone tablets on the way I took to leave you behind. I am glad that our trade led us to the Egyptian friends whose writing on tablets fascinated me. In the tenebrosity of this detachment, may my words illuminate your way to mine!

The ever-destitute in your memory,

𑀳𑀺𑀦𑁆𑀤𑀯𑀺

The Pashupatinath seal reveals a form of Shiva with a headgear surrounded by animals, indicating an overlord or God of the civilisation. As Indus Valley scriptures are yet to be deciphered, it is very difficult to understand the culture solely based on archaeological findings and assumptions.

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...

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!" A...

One Night

Happy Valentine's Day, readers! Hope you put your self-love and your love for reading right at the top when you celebrate today! The night was eerie; the veil of stars shone in the clear sky, occasional clouds travelling with the wind, playing hide-and-seek with the crescent moon. The leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, and somewhere in the forestland, the call of an animal broke the silence. Owls hooted somewhere, and in the darkness, one could see across the arid land, beyond the water of a lake, a fort wall was lit by the torches of the guards who were awake and alert. The sandstone castle in the middle of the small township was asleep. The corridors of the Mardana Mahal, where noblemen and princes were stationed, were heavily guarded tonight. The prince of Mewar was travelling through this small town, on one of his many campaigns. The square-shaped palace had an inner courtyard for the ladies. Opposite the Mardana Mahal was the Andar Mahal, where the women resided. They shar...

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 ...

Scheme of Things

The ousting of Shams Khan and his troops from Chittorgarh earned Kunwar Partap Singh overnight fame across the land as tales of his bravery made their way through the dunes and hills, across rivers and borders to lands far and beyond. At thirteen, he had commanded an army troop to take over the fort of Chittorgarh and restore Mewar’s borders to their former glory. People started comparing him to his forefathers, the great Rana Kumbha, who built forts across Mewar and his grandfather, Rana Sanga, who had united all Rajputs against external threats. As bards sang praises of the prince, gossip soon followed. Gossip was the most entertaining one could get in the mundane city lives and village gatherings, and it often travelled faster than the fastest Marwadi horse. So alongside the tales of his absolute bravery and how he hoisted the Mewari flag on the fort, were the stories of how his life was in danger, the king and queen did not quite get along and how he was made to live in poverty by ...

The Wounds of Love

The procession had stopped at a clearing. The women and children needed to rest for the day. The maids and guards who had followed them into this life of difficulty and sacrifice quickly laid the tents for rest. The young crown princess, still a child, was not used to the extreme conditions of the open air and the desert sun. She was slightly feverish. In the tent, her mother put her hand on his warm forehead, worried. There were sounds of footsteps, and she grew alarmed. The tent curtains parted. Ajabdeh Punwar entered the tent she shared with Pur Bai Solankini, a little worried. She managed a smile at Pur Bai as she checked the princess's fever. She checked the medicines kept by the bed and, after a reassuring nod at Pur Bai, stepped outside the tent where an eager Amar waited for her. "Keep vigil on your sisters." She ordered the eight-year-old as a pang of pain hit her. She did not want to take away his childhood and innocence with the weight of responsibilities so so...

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...

Forever

" The Day Amar Singh was born, Mewar celebrated like it was Diwali. The palace was decorated, and so was Ajabde's room. Amar was lying in a golden cot when I saw him for the very first time. He looked like my Pratap used to as a kid. Today, when I look at Amar, I see a lot of Ajabde in him." Jaivanta Bai smiled at a beaming fourteen-year-old. " Ranaji too was so happy with Mewar's uttaradhikaar." Her smile faded at the memories. The differences started afterwards. " He was so happy that he founded the new capital that year only." She spoke up. " What about Daajiraj and Badi Ranima?" Kunwar Chand, nine, enquired. Solankhini and Jasobai interrupted the conversation. " Come now, all of you, Kunwar Amar, Kunwar Chand, Kunwar Bhagwandas, and Rajkumari, it's late. Time for bed." Solankhini spoke. " Please, Majhli maa. A little more. " Bhagwan Das, a five-year-old, pleaded. " Haan Majhli Maa... let Dada bh...

The Difficult Times

Rana Pratap rose to prominence as the new hope for Mewar after his coronation on Holi, 1st March, 1572. His subjects and chiefs had a lot of faith in his ability to remove the Timurid influence from Rajputana. In the year 1573, in February, June and November, Raja Man Singh, his father Bhagwan Das and Todal Mal came to persuade the Rana on alliances respectively. Although he received the fellow Rajputs cordially, their purpose remained unsolved. These frequent visits to his court from alliances of Akbar made Gogunda vulnerable as a capital. He decided to move to a small village at Girwa, about 8 miles from Haldighati. Not being able to reach him anymore, Akbar's chieftains were forced to prepare for war against the Rana. Under the leadership of Man Singh, Akbar's army reached Haldighati, the chosen battlefield on the banks of the Banas River. The brave Rajputs, having only half the army's strength, fought bravely, and an injured Rana was taken to safety by his favourite ...

The Final Battle

The Battle of Haldighati was fought in June 1576. However, Akbar had planned an attack on Mewar in February 1576 when Rana Partap Singh refused his peace treaty for the third time in four years. He wanted Rana Partap's defeat in his hands. He was the only one who didn't seem to fear the mighty Timurid domination. He needed to be taught a lesson. Rana Partap was disturbed by the constant visits of Man Singh to Mewar in the last two years, that too with Akbar's peace treaty. Chittorgarh had fallen to the Timurid power, and Mewar had lost its bravest. He wouldn't forget that till his last breath. There was no way he could bow down to the Timurid. 17 Mewari villages were under Timurid dominance. He needed to free them. But his morals of showing no enmity with any Rajput always made him most hospitable towards Man Singh. He was looking for a way to start a war. Man Singh came with a peace treaty in the years 1573 and 1574. It is then that Rana Partap decided that the areas n...

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