Skip to main content

Apologies

Aswar was a small yet prosperous kingdom on the western side of Neelambargarh. Although most of Neelambargarh was bordered by the natural river Maya, the Heemdev range, and, of course, Suryapali, Aswar in turn was bordered by the smaller states of Anantanagar, Maanwari and Mait, all of which were Suryapalian aides.  Its rugged terrains depended largely on external aides, especially for the water of the Rivers Ananta and Gandak, which originated in the Heemdevi and flowed through the flourishing plains of Mait and Anantanagar. Through the ages, Aswar had successfully maintained its sovereignty by staying out of the politics of the three large kingdoms, Chandramer, Neelambargarh and Suryapali, none of which shared borders with it. That was until the Princess of Aswar, Surachana, lost her heart to the prince of Neelambargarh. When the young prince had asked for her hand, Aswar had very little say in it. Madan Rai, the younger brother of the princess, had seen the alliance more positively than the others. He saw it as an opportunity to be allied with Neelambargarh. He had miscalculated their strength and the ability of Raja Brahmagupta as a king when he was a promising young prince.
Bhupati Madan Rai stopped at the borders of the state, where a gateway marked the end of their kingdom and the beginning of the state roadways between kingdoms that led straight to Neelambargarh. The gateway, ironically, was a sign of friendship between Aswar and Neelambargarh, built during the time of his father, when the alliance was fruitful. He let the soldiers set up camp as he waited for the messenger to arrive back from Neelambargarh’s capital. He had just finished his meal when the soldier led the messenger into his camp tent. The messenger bowed and handed over the message to him. Bhupati Madan Rai eyed his son, who had been present for the meal. Rajputra Medini Rai picked up the letter and read it. 
“The Adhiraja of Neelambargarh doesn’t want to wage a war and cost the lives of those around him. He wants to talk to the Bhupati of Aswar and reach a favourable conclusion to the issue.” A frown formed on Rajputra Medini’s face as Bhupati Madan Rai smiled, a little relieved.
“It means the news was right.” He said to his son. “Neelambargarh indeed can't afford a war.”

Kumar Viraj had received the sealed letter and opened it eagerly. He had heard of the approaching army of Aswar and was in shock, imagining that Prithvi’s uncle could even think of attacking Neelambargarh, especially with Priyambada on the throne and given how small their army was compared to that of Neelambargarh. He hoped that if war were imminent, he would be summoned. Assuming the message to be such, he opened the seal and read in eager anticipation. Smriti was surprised when the maid said she had been summoned to Kumar Viraj’s room. Ever since that day, they haven’t talked about themselves or their feelings. A part of Smriti was happy that Viraj chose her, and another part of her doubted if he was being polite to Priyambada’s friend. She walked into the room to find a visibly pleased Kumar Viraj sitting on the writing desk. 

“Read this.” He urged as she took the message from him. “We are going back to Neelambargarh.” The joy in his voice was inevitable. He wasn’t trying to hide it. 

“Is there war?” She eyed the letterhead, a little scared. 

“They want me to be their Defence Minister, Smriti. Do you know what that means?” His eyes lit up as Smriti’s heart sank a little. He wanted to go back to the place with haunting memories… and Priyambada. She nodded a little.

“It means I can finally fulfil Prithvi’s wishes, he always used to say, when I am king, you will be my defence minister.” His eyes shone a little as Smriti cleared her throat. 

“When are we leaving?” She asked, trying hard not to sound unhappy at the thought of going back.

“As soon as possible. There is a war situation with Aswar.” Smriti’s brows shot up at his words. “Aren’t they…” Kumar Viraj nodded. “Kingship knows no kinship.”


Priyambada heaved a sigh of relief as she watched the entourage of Maharani Trinayani Devi leave with Sumedha. Sumedha hugged her and thanked her. She made a promise to keep in touch. Needless to say, there was no sign of Ishaan Dev there. Priyambada walked back to her chamber, lost in thought. She needed to tell the noble ladies something about Sumedha’s sudden departure. She couldn’t let the gossip mongers spread any rumours. But she needed to carefully quote the incidents to honour both Sumedha and the clan. She entered the chambers where she had spent a sleepless night. Every corner of her room had been searched. She felt sick to her stomach every time she thought of the past week. Urvi went about as if nothing had happened. Priyambada wondered how. She had to show up in court just to stop the rumours from aggravating. Devdoot had told her all the gossip that had been doing the rounds in the market. But going to court also meant facing Ishaan Dev. Even the mere mention of his name made her angry now. She teared up once again and tried to blink it away in vain. 


“What would you like to do today, after the court session, my lady?” Urvi was keeping the dresses for the court appearance down as she spoke. Priyambada knew why. Urvi was concerned because she was unusually quiet. She sighed and smiled slightly, eyeing her housekeeper. 

“I am fine.” She managed monotonously, “Nothing can keep me occupied enough to forget insults or ordeals.” Urvi stopped and cleared her throat. 

“Umm… I will go check if the bath is ready.” She managed. Priyambada nodded.

“And oh, bring me the Veena before court sessions.” Her words were met with a relieved nod. Urvi turned to leave in a hurry when Priyambada rose from the windowsill and spoke. 

“I also want to visit the Kothi.” Her words made the maids stop and stare at each other as Urvi looked a little pale.

“The Kothi?” She asked, unsure of what she heard. “But why… I mean… we can summon…”

“I need to personally go and thank Tarabai.” Priyambada shook her head. The maids stared in disbelief.


Adhiraja Ishaan Dev was pacing his room restlessly. He had gone to his mother’s chamber to bid her farewell and had no heart to even face Sumedha. But Priyambada? He felt that he had successfully rebuilt the wall that they had slowly broken between them. And this time, the wall was tougher to breach. Ishaan Dev cursed himself for the umpteenth time under his breath. What was he thinking? Why could he not see through? The sound of the Veena made his heart skip a beat. Raga Viraha played on, as the chirping magpie seemed to join in the melody of separation. Ishaan Dev’s throat felt dry. It was as though he was having a deja vu moment back to where it all started. The distances, the hatred, the despise. He needed to do something. Show his trust not in words but in actions. Perhaps even leave her alone. But he didn’t want to make her feel abandoned again. He wanted her to know he cared. He was perplexed. On one hand were the security concerns about Aswar, and on the other was this distance with Priyambada that seemed to grow by the minute. Ishaan Dev felt restless and alone. He needed a friend. But who could he confide in now?


The court was abuzz with all sorts of speculations. It had been a week since anyone had seen Maharani Priyambada. Like a madman, Vamsi Gupta claimed she was in prison. Most of the Suryapalian courtiers were in shock at his audacity, and the Neelambargarhis looked worried. If the Adhiraja did imprison their princess, all cooperation would be over. Neelambargarh will be ready to fight a civil war against their ruler. Some of them decided to ask Devdoot instead. He was of no help. The market gossip was worse. Who was spreading rumours about Maharani and her character was beyond them. Vamsi’s empty seat made everyone stare at each other with questioning eyes. He was never late to court sessions. It was then that the guards announced the arrival of the queen herself. Everyone rose to their feet as Maharani Priyambada entered the courtroom in slow, dignified steps. Her yellow drape hung over her shoulder, and the brown robe complemented her dusky skin. She eyed the happy faces of the courtiers, some even relieved. She took her high chair and eyed Devdoot. The Adhiraja was late to court. That was rare.


Adhiraja Ishaan Dev hurried into the courtroom as all eyes fell on him. He was relieved to see her in the high chair, going through a paper with Devdoot as he explained something to her. Everyone rose to greet him as she sat fixed to her spot. Ishaan Dev took the high chair, and the court session began.

“I want to start this session with an important development. Due to ill health, Vamsi Gupta has decided to quit his position and go back home.” A buzz went across the courtroom. Speculations were being whispered. 

Why so suddenly? 

Why now? 

Is something wrong? 

I told you he was going mad. 

Priyambada stiffened as Ishaan Dev raised his hand to stop the courtiers.

“That means the position of Finance Minister remains empty.” He cleared his throat. “Hence we…” He stopped to eye Priyambada, who inhaled at his gaze. “We unanimously decided that Niranjan Verma would be perfect for the place.”

Niranjan Verma stood up to bow and spoke. “But Your Majesty, what about Defence? In the time of war…”

“Niranjan Verma.” It was the Maharani who spoke, as Ishaan Dev seemed suddenly relieved to hear her voice. “... for all your life you have served with utmost loyalty in all major wars. I think you should try this office. We need people we can trust with the Neelambargarhi treasury. And I feel your ailing wife will worry less if you were home.” Her impersonal choice of reasoning made Niranjan Verma smile sheepishly and agree. The courtiers exchanged glances. 

“And as for Defence, I believe we need some new thinking and innovative ideas now to upgrade our methods.” Ishaan Dev spoke again. “I called on Kumar Viraj for the position.” Another speculation went around the courtroom. 

“But Your Majesty, no offence, but he is only eighteen.” One of the Suryapalians spoke. “And Niranjan Verma has experience.”

“He is also not from either state.” One of the Neelambargarhi courtiers spoke.

“Kumar Viraj is family to the royals.” Priyambada looked a little taken aback by Ishaan Dev’s defence. “ And… We are in no way trying to demean Niranjan Verma’s experience either.” Ishaan Dev said, “I just feel…”

“We are also not experienced. Do you have complaints about who you serve?” Priyambada’s words made the man stare, a bit taken aback.

“No, Your Majesty, I… I…” 

“Good, then, that is done, let's talk work, shall we?” Her words made Ishaan Dev turn to Devdoot. The courtiers were, in a way, relieved to see them working as a unit. All the rumours would die down soon. They weren’t real anyway. 

“Devdoot?” He made the man clear his throat.

“A message has arrived from Aswar. Our spies say they are on the move through the state roads.” Devdoot spoke, “And this one came from their ruler.” He handed the scroll over to Ishaan Dev. He eyed the seal and, to Priyambada’s surprise, handed it over to her. Her jaws tightened. Under any other circumstances, she would have refused to take it, but now they were in the public eye. She opened the scroll. 

“The king agrees to a talk with the Adhiraja.” She read as relief reflected on everyone’s faces.

“Fair enough.” Ishaan Dev rubbed his stubbled chin a little in thought. “We can set a date as soon as Kumar Viraj arrives here. I need him to attend it with me.” He spoke almost to himself. 

“Your Majesty, if I am taking over the financial department, if I may be allowed, should I recheck the flood relief and see if some can be allocated back to defence?” Niranjan Verma’s cause was agreed upon. 

“What is the update on the crops and cattle lost?” Priyambada asked the Minister of Husbandry. 

“Winter is tough too, but with less rain, the farmers are tilting the soil, and the cattle given to them by the state are healthy.” He reported.


Ishaan Dev was out in the corridor as soon as the session ended. He had eyed Priyambada walking up to Niranjan Verma to enquire about his wife’s health when he walked away. He needed time to figure out his apologies properly. He was making his way up to the inner courtyards when he heard her anklets running towards him. Ishaan Dev stopped. His heart skipped a beat as his senses tricked him. He inhaled.

“I have something to say.” Her voice was firm, formal and cold. He turned to glance over his shoulder at her. Priyambada immediately looked away. Ishaan Dev waited, fixed to his spot.

“You may not trust me, but I will still go to the peace talk. I need to see that man eye to eye and…”

“It is not a place to be emotional.” Ishaan Dev cut her short. He stepped forward as Priyambada gave him a disapproving frown.

“I am not being emotional.” She snapped. “I have none of that left.” She looked up at his face as his jaw tightened. “For anyone.” She added as she walked past him to her wing, as he closed his eyes and tightened his fist to compose himself. When he glanced over his shoulder, she was gone.


Tarabai was making sure the ration that had arrived for the two full moons was well accounted for. In the turmoil of trust issues, she knew she could very well be targeted. Especially if the people behind it knew it was she who wrote the letter. As the man sat accounting for the ration in the courtyard of the Kothi, Tarabai sat on the swing, her feet up, her skirt dangling, as she took a paan from the box and pushed it in between her lips. She didn’t know calculations this big, but she trusted the royal accountant. The man seemed to be intimidated by the presence of the concubines as he refused to look up. A smile formed on her lips. She remembered the first time she had been summoned to serve Ishaan Dev. He was barely sixteen. She was in her twenties. He was unsure, and she had promised him that whatever happened between them would stay in the room and die as a secret with the night. Her smile disappeared. For the first time in years, she had breached the promise. She had dared to go over his head. Was he angry? What if he wanted nothing to do with her anymore? The thought of never seeing him again scared her. Although Ishaan had refrained from pleasure in their last few encounters, even being a confidant to him made Tarabai feel loved. After all, for women like her, love was all that they got in charity, in bits and pieces, and all they could do was imagine they were loved. At least in some odd way or another. She sighed. She needed to see him. But how could she when she wasn’t allowed in the palace unless summoned?


The sudden commotion outside the Kothi made the girls peek from the balconies and open windows. The accountant looked up, and Tarabai saw some men rush to the door.

“What happened?” She asked with a slight frown. She didn’t like drunken noblemen asking for women to sleep with so early in the morning. It was a regular scene at Suryapali, but here she hadn’t faced it yet. She stood up, letting the swing sway a little and immediately saw the men standing alert. She frowned a little. Who could visit so early in the morning?


Maharani Priyambada walked into the courtyard as the accountant suddenly fumbled with his things and bowed. She eyed him and turned to Devdoot, who escorted the man out. She looked around the courtyards at the women. Women of various ages. Some as young as her, perhaps younger. Did Ishaan Dev bed them all? The thought made her imagination draw an image she chose to brush away. That was not her business. She turned to Tarabai, who was fixing her transparent drape, a little aware of her presence. Her low-cut knot hung loosely over her bosom, almost exposing a peek. Priyambada chose to look away.

“Her Majesty is here,” Tarabai spoke in disbelief. “Bow to her, girls.”

“It’s alright, I came to see you.” Maharani Priyambada stepped forward as the girls exchanged glances. Everyone was aware that Tarabai was Ishaan Dev’s favourite concubine. She was summoned the most in the palace, and most often when they did serve him, it was alongside her and never alone. Did the queen have a problem with that?

“You could have summoned me, Your Highness,” Tarabai spoke almost immediately.

“No…” She stopped to be aware of the crowd. “Can we talk alone? Inside?”

“Yes, of course.” Tarabai nodded, “So silly of me not to ask you that, pardon me. Please come inside.” Tarabai led Priyambada to the inner room, where hookahs and vessels of wine were kept. Although Tarabai offered a seat on the cushions, Priyambada chose to stand as she spoke. She had left behind a lot of her prejudice to walk into the Kothi, but she wasn’t going to sit in the rooms that witnessed such sins. 

“I came by to thank you.” Priyambada almost whispered. “I know you wrote the letter, and I am eternally grateful for that.” Her eyes shone as Tarabai was taken aback by Priyambada’s words. “I have perhaps not been kind to you.”

“No, your Majesty.” Tarabai shook her head, “You have been kind enough.”

“I wanted to… ask you… umm… did anyone tell you to write to Maharani?” Priyambada’s voice had a hopeful tone. Tarabai’s throat felt dry as she shook her head. “I am afraid not, my lady.” She looked up at Priyambada’s pale face. Tarabai was not sure what to say next. She cleared her throat. “I heard what happened and…”

“Who told you?” Priyambada’s eyes met hers and sparkled a little. 

“He…” Tarabai looked awkward.

“Can I ask you something?” Priyambada asked as she nodded.

“What made you think I am not a…” She inhaled, closing her eyes to compose herself. “Traitor?”

“Your Majesty… I…” Tarabai was not sure what to tell her. She had already broken her promises once.

“You were surely told otherwise.” A faint smile appeared on Priyambada’s face. She looked hurt. Tarabai stood in silence, not sure what to say to the young maiden who had seen so much. Priyambada shook her head. 

“I am sorry, that is your private matter.”

“No, Your Majesty. Slaves don’t have private matters.” Tarabai made her look up. “We only have the secrets of our masters. I hope you understand.”

“I do.” Priyambada stepped back and looked around the Kothi. “I came with an offer, Tarabai. An offer I should have made long back.” She inhaled. “I have opened the basement wing for your stay. It has a separate entrance and access to the inner palace. I want you to shift there, immediately, with your girls.”

“But Your Majesty…” Tarabai frowned, a little taken aback. 

“This is an order.” Priyambada’s voice of formality was back. “This is the least I can do. For you.” She looked away and exhaled. “And for him.” She whispered as she stepped back and turned to leave.

“My lady.” Tarabai stopped her at the threshold. “I think you should know something.” Priyambada froze as Tarabai continued. “He didn’t believe you were a traitor either. In his heart, he didn’t.” Priyambada glanced over her shoulder with a faint smile.

“It is alright, Tarabai, don’t lie to me.”

“I dare not lie to Her Majesty.” Tarabai shook her head.

“Then make sure you come by and settle down with your girls by evening?” She spoke as Tarabai bowed gratefully. She watched the Maharani walk away as she sighed. She was probably the only person in the world who knew the thoughts of both Ishaan Dev and Priyambada, but her hands were tied. She could do very little. She was sure Priyambada thought he wanted Tarabai close to him now that his wife was gone. Hence, she did what she did. Being in the palace meant Tarabai could at least request an audience with him, but it also meant she was unwillingly coming between two hearts already filled with misunderstandings.


Ishaan Dev had walked into his chambers in the evening and received the news that Kumar Viraj was on his way. He would be there by the next morning, and they could see the king of Aswar without further ado, the very next day. Priyambada’s words rang in his mind. He didn’t want her around for security concerns. Maybe she would listen to Viraj that it was indeed unsafe to go there herself. Lost in his thoughts, he sat down as Mallal knocked, making him look up.

“Tarabai wants an audience, Your Majesty.” Ishaan Dev frowned. How did she get into the inner palace?


Tarabai had walked into the room, wrapped in a shawl; she saw Ishaan Dev standing with his back to her, hands together behind him, looking out of the windows. She cleared her throat as Mallal walked away, closing the door behind him.

“I… know His Highness must be upset with me.” Tarabai looked up for reactions in vain. She continued. “I didn’t want to… that was the only way… His Highness was too angry to see through things.” She bit her tongue. “I apologise for being … so…”

“Unfiltered?” Ishaan Dev glanced over his shoulder at her, his face unreadable. “When did you start apologising for seeing through people?” His voice had a hint of taunt.

“I… don’t get me wrong…” Tarabai was clueless about what to say or do to make him feel better about her betrayal.

“How did you come here?” His question made her frown a little.

“What?” She asked, a little taken aback.

“I asked how you find your way into the inner palace? Did the guards not stop you? Ishaan Dev frowned.

“You don’t know?” She asked a little palely. “I thought that you…”

“Know what?” Ishaan Dev frowned. 

“The Maharani gave us quarters in the basement.” Tarabai could sense the disbelief on his face.

“She did what?” Ishaan Dev frowned some more, approaching her. Tarabai nodded. 

“I apologise, should I not stay?” Tarabai stepped back, looking at his not-so-pleasing demeanour and turned to leave.

“Wait.” Ishaan Dev stopped her as he walked up to her. His words made her eyes sparkle with relief. “And make sure you honour her trust.” His words were met with a nod. “I know I couldn’t.” He whispered as Tarabai looked worried. She was about to step forward to comfort him, running her hand over his shoulder and back, but she stopped. Instead, leaving Ishaan Dev to his thoughts, she stepped back and walked away, out of the room. 


Priyambada was standing on the corridor balcony, feeling a little chilly to her bones at the sudden winter wind, when her eyes fell on the corridor. She could see Ishaan Dev’s chamber door open as light from inside the chamber fell on the corridor. Tarabai walked out, the shawl wrapped around her and walked away. Priyambada held her breath watching her go. Her eyes fell on his silhouette as he walked up to the door to shut it himself. His drape and robe were still visible in the flickering light. Ishaan Dev looked up in a reflex as though he was being watched. The corridor was dark, yet he could sense her there. A faint smile formed on his lips. Not all hope was lost. He was glad he didn’t let Tarabai stay the night. Was she testing him in her own cruel ways? If so, he wanted to pass them all.





Popular posts from this blog

The Legend of Maharana Pratap: An Introduction

Itihas ke Har Panne Ki  Ek Bohot Bada Uddesh Hota Hai Jo Aap Aur Main Kabhi Samajh Nahi Paate. Shayad, Meera Bai Ki Bhakti Ki Panna Dhai Ke Sahas Ki Chittor ki Jauhar ke askon ki Ek Bohot Bada Uddesh Tha. Ek Pratap Ka Charo Or Phelne Ki Mewar Ke Suraj ki Roshni Ki. Mewar, a land in Rajputana, is nestled between the serene Aravallis. With its beautiful lakes and forestland, the yellow soil that witnessed warfare, and the mighty temples that stood as a testament to the Bhajans of Meera Bai, its history and folktales reflect stories of bravery, rebellion, and loyalty. Rana Sanga, the most famous of rulers who sat on the throne of Mewar, died unexpectedly, leaving Mewar in a state of uncertainty. Here is where this story begins. The year was 1535 CE, and Mewar's capital, Chittorgarh, stood invincible on the plateau surrounded by the Aravallis. The danger that loomed large after the king's demise was to the throne. Ratan Singh, the king's secondborn, was coronated rather quickly...

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......

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...

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 ...

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, so 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 she...

Legend of Maharana Pratap: The Parents

The day in Kumbhalgarh started with grey clouds and the pitter-patter of the rain. The Kumbha palace entrance saw a movement of horses and soldiers. Palanquins, decorated with royal Rajput motifs, made their way through the Pol Gates. To an onlooker, the fort was going about its usual business in Kumbhalgarh. People were praying at the Mahakal Temple. Cowherds took their buffaloes out of the fort. Peacocks roamed the courtyards. The marketplace buzzed with people buying and selling things. The movement of the entourage towards the Kumbha Palace, horses, palanquins and soldiers, was unusual. The curious eyes of a fifteen-year-old princess peeped from behind the curtain of the palanquin. Her eager eyes spotted the domes and jharokhas of the Kumbha Palace with a smile. Jaivanta Bai was accompanying her father, Akshay Raj Songara, to a significant meeting she knew very little about. All she knew was that her father said it could change their political alliance with Mewar. Ever since Banbir...

The Queen

“Some remain immortal in deeds, others, in the hearts of their loved ones.” Kunwar Partap had left Kumbhalmer a little reluctantly with his chieftains to claim the throne that was rightfully his, at his father’s funeral at Gogunda. It did not come as a surprise to either Maharani Jivanta Bai or Ajbante Baisa that Rani Dheer Bai had tried to put her son on the throne of Mewar and ally with the Timurids. As Amar Singh rode away, excited, beside his father, Ajbante stared at them go, with a heavy heart. Today was the start of a new journey, a new title and new responsibilities, but all she could gather was that her baby was not a baby anymore. She felt the way she felt when she had first come to the house, alone in a crowd. A sudden tap on her shoulder jolted her from her thoughts as she turned to see Rajmata Jivanta Bai standing before her with questioning eyes. “What is it that worries you today, Ajbante?” Jivanta Bai asked, reading her face, “Is it not some sunshine after ...

The Fear

Fatehpur Sikri was indeed a paradise in red sandstone.   The more Rukaiya stayed in the fortress, the more she fell in love with Jalal’s dream city. Every detail of the curving on the walls and pillars, its domes and arches, gates and palaces, was well detailed and reflected Jalal’s thoughts and ideals. He was later a bit inclined towards secularism. He had built temples in the Rajput Harem. If it was from his soul or just for the sake of Politics that he preached secularism, Rukaiya Begum didn’t understand. All she knew was that she had never approved of him celebrating every festival of every religion himself. The zenana had many more festivities with the inclusion of his other queens, including Holi and Diwali, with the growing Rajput members, and she made sure they were celebrated with equal grandeur as much as Navroz or Eid. But never in these occasions had she or the Turk kins stepped out to celebrate like the Emperor. She woke to the music of Tansen’s melodious voice ...

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...

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 ...