The Throne: Prologue

Kavi Akhilesh Ranjan had heard about the patronage of Neelambargarh’s Rajputra Mrintyunjoy Dev Varman from the bards who had visited the capital city recently. Being from a small village on the fringes of the forest of Dhuari, he had travelled for over a month to reach the state, hoping to find work. After all, his farmer father knew little about poetry but much about how useless it was to feed a poor family.

Throughout this time, he had managed to put together a piece, scribbling down his ideas as he abandoned home and travelled across the state, and finally put down his words in verses, in neatly cut-out paper leaves. Today was the day he had been waiting for. The Rajputra, about eighteen, looked much younger than his age, but his eyes had an intelligent spark. Akhilesh Ranjan waited patiently for his turn in the garden where the Rajputra met with eminent and amateur poets. He had heard from a fellow traveller that he held such gatherings for musicians, too. God bless the soul that patronises art!
Akhilesh Ranjan cleared his throat as he stood up and bowed to the prince when the courtier called his name. The prince nodded with a smile of approval and closed his eyes. He opened his leaflets and began to recite.

“The sun that shone brightest in the east,

Reached the west weary, in need of rest.
The darkness seemed to engulf his might,
Doubts shrouded his mind and pride.
The stars aligned as he roamed,
A gust of wind brought him home.
A beauty of art, as brave as the sword,
Could the Sun ignore such warmth of hope?
He spread his shine wherever he went,
Rose as though from the West again.
But his shine couldn’t outdo Hers.
She, who lived in his home and heart.
Hear the tale of such Bravehearts,
Come hear this story of immortal love.”

And thus begins our story...

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...

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 ...

AAYA TERE DAR PAR DEEWANA

Pratap was outside the gates of Meera Girls College in Udaipur by the next afternoon, unsure of whether to go in and ask for her. He spotted a few girls walking out, and one of them kept staring at him suspiciously before approaching him. He stood in his spot, still awkward as she asked, “Aren’t you that ASI guy that Roshni met?” “I… what?” Pratap narrowed his eyes “I am sorry, I don’t remember you.” “I am Mahek.” The girl waved her hand and smiled, “I was with her at Chawand.” “Oh, I see.” Pratap sighed. “I found some information that might help her …err… project.” He stopped at Mahek’s suspicious frown. “So I thought…” “You came all the way here to give her some information about her project?” Pratap cursed himself inwardly. Indeed, that sounded lame when she repeated it. “Why didn’t you call her?” “I…” He cleared his throat “I lost her number, so… I was hoping that she would be interested in an on-field internship…” “Oh, wait, I will give you her number. But she isn’t here, and I do...

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...

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!" ...

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 ...

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......

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 ...

Endless

Kunwar Pratap reached the Dangal. Ranima had ordered Ajabdeh to practise regularly. She was nowhere around since he woke up that morning. He had assumed she was with Ranima for the morning prayers, but then she was not in the Dangal on time, either. Ajabdeh was never late. He felt a little uneasy as he picked up the sword. A thunder made him look up at the gloomy sky as he felt the first drop of rain. A little wet, he ran through the corridors. Ajabdeh had woken up feeling unwell. He was sleeping after a tiring day, so she decided against calling him and, more, worrying him. She bathed, hoping to feel better, performed her puja and went to the gardens for some fresh air. Still feeling uneasy in the gloomy weather, she decided that playing with Parvati might make her feel better. After some talk with Bhago and playing with Parvati, she stood up from the floor and felt dizzy. Bhago caught her hand. " Are you all right?" " I just felt a little dizzy. I don't know why...

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 ...

RAABTA

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