Bells

Tarabai approached Ishaan Dev with slow, measured steps, following Mallal into his chambers after he summoned her. She stood at a distance watching him doing something with his back to her, her heart thumping in her chest. Tiny droplets of perspiration appeared on her forehead, and her lips felt dry.

“Where is it?” Ishaan Dev glanced over his shoulder while admiring the cleaned sheath of his sword, when Tarabai’s face turned pale.

“Wha… what?” Her voice stuttered as Ishaan Dev frowned, confused and turned to face her.

“You said you are going to the temple. Where are the offerings?” He asked firmly. A little relieved by his query, Tarabai smiled faintly, still unsure of what he knew. Was he testing her? She asked for his permission and proceeded to go back to her chambers, and in the faint light of the lamp, her hand reached the pouch beside the offerings. She shuddered, immediately letting it go as it rolled over the cold floor while she picked up the offerings wrapped in the leaf and quickly went back to his chambers. Ishaan Dev took the offerings to his lips with a small prayer.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her. Tarabai looked taken aback at his words at first. Never before had he thanked her for anything. “Do leave some of it here, I will give it to the Maharani with your best wishes.” He suggested. This relieved Tarabai of her doubt that him spying on her movements.

Tarabai was about to do what she was told, placing the leaf down on the table in front of her, when she stopped, as if Trishaan Dev controlled her mind. Still scared of her thoughts and intentions, she asked, “If you don’t mind, My Lord, can I give this to Her Highness myself?” Ishaan Dev narrowed his eyes at her odd request as Tarabai clutched the leaf in between her palms.

“I will never have a child to call my own. The least I can do…” Her eyes shone in the light of the lamps around the room. Her sentence was cut midway as she controlled herself, and Ishaan Dev suddenly felt a sense of sadness around her. Of course, she was human. Would it be far-fetched for her to have human needs and emotions? He eyed Tarabai, standing in his room, unsurely staring back at him. Ishaan Dev’s throat felt dry. Was he naive to her feelings? Of course not. He did value her, just not in a way she perhaps wanted to be valued. His upbringing taught him to draw the line fairly well. But could he not give her this much happiness?

“You may.” He nodded with a smile, “She will be happy to receive it from you.” He had watched Tarabai leave silently with a short bow. She looked as if something preoccupied her, but it wasn’t his position to have a conversation with a concubine regarding her inner feelings. He never wanted any of them to have the wrong idea. He was well aware, unlike anyone else believed, of his father’s tryst with his favourite concubine, which resulted in a strain on his relationship with his mother and the fact that he always felt his mother was deprived of his love. He was also aware of who Trishaan Dev was. He couldn’t make the same mistakes.

Tarabai was sleepless on what seemed to be the longest night of her life. She twisted and turned in her bed, opened the pouch several times, poured its contents out in her lap and placed them back in the pouch with trembling hands again. Tarabai stared at herself in the unclean mirror of the room, thinking about what life had brought her. What it had given her. Unlike others who spend all their lives in the Kothi blaming their fate and God’s will, she had accepted it more easily the day a strange man pulled her up from her sleep and told her that her father had left her to him. She was scared, alone, and even sometimes unsure, but never blamed her fate or God. Some even said she was brave. Was she? If she were, she would have told Adhiraja about her encounter with Trishaan Dev. Why didn’t she? Perhaps because he wouldn’t believe a concubine over the best friend he grew up with. Or because she knew somewhere in this entire ploy, Trishaan Dev was not alone. If he were caught, she wouldn’t be spared. If he wasn’t caught, she would always be his eyes and ears, even if she didn’t want to be. With dawn, she had made up her mind on what she should do, for her own sake. All her life, she had lived to serve others. Now was the time to be selfish. She summoned Sehri to make her bathe.

“Get me my best attire, I have a meeting with the Maharani.” Tarabai smiled at the girl who ran at her instructions.

Maharani Priyambada was getting ready for the courtroom in her chambers as Vrinda brushed her hair and two maids helped her with her jewellery. It was Urvi who came to her room and bowed to inform her that Tarabai was there to see her. The maids exchanged rather shocked and judgmental looks, while Vrinda gasped involuntarily. Had they ever heard a concubine enter the chambers of a Maharani? Oh, what a sin!

“Let her in,” Priyambada smiled at a confused Urvi. “I was expecting her.”

Tarabai had entered the room as the judgmental eyes hawked her every move. She looked up at the mirror, as Priyambada sat with her back to Tarabai, her face visibly glowing in the morning sunshine.

“I heard you went to the temple for me yesterday?” Maharani Priyambada smiled as she got up, placing her hand involuntarily over her stomach. Tarabai’s eyes travelled to her hand, painted and shining with jewellery. She wasn’t showing yet.

“Are you going to the courtroom, Maharani?” She sounded concerned, “Did I interrupt…”

“Oh no, I was expecting you. I have been quite bored around my chambers, so I just…” Priyambada stopped, for now, the maids were turning their heads at her. She was engaging in banter with her husband’s favourite concubine.

“I… got you…” Tarabai held out the offerings. Priyambada smiled and took them. Urvi was about to take it from her hand, but Priyambada touched it to her forehead and ate it. Tarabai’s throat went dry as she cleared it to speak, “Umm… I'd better not keep you…” Priyambada nodded as she bowed and promptly left. Tarabai ran to her room and shut the door behind her as she wiped the perspiration off her forehead. She glanced over at the sand clock shining in the rays and the empty pouch that lay beside it.

The court session was a mundane one. Neelambargarh had lost its two best ministers, and Ishaan Dev had decided to take up the Defence himself and handed the Finances over to one of the other ministers. A few issues were discussed, but none reached a valid conclusion. Further debates ensued. Ishaan Dev, even while he was engrossed in the ministers debating their cause, eyed Priyambada, sitting on the high chair beside his, more than once, still she gave him an annoyed warning glance to make him stop. After the court session rolled into the afternoon, Ishaan Dev raised his hand, dismissing the men, assuring them they would continue the next day. The last thing he wanted was for his pregnant wife to skip lunch. Urvi helped Priyambada back to her chambers. It wasn’t until after lunch, when the peacocks were heard at a distance and the afternoon rolled into dusk, that Priyambada suddenly felt slightly uneasy. She was perhaps tired, so she lay down to rest, but couldn’t sleep. Her restlessness alerted Urvi and worried Vrinda. After her repeated requests not to inform Adhiraja, Urvi suggested she would get into trouble and let Devdoot inform him. Ishaan Dev was perplexed. He was already against her attending court and thought she might have over-exerted herself. The medicine men were summoned immediately, and Urvi led them down the hallway to her chambers. The palace was suddenly silenced as the sunset brought in the darkness around it.

Adhiraj Ishaan Dev was strolling across the terrace on his wing, the moonlight making the surroundings quite easily visible, murmuring a soft prayer under his breath for moments that looked like hours as he waited with bated breath for news of her well-being. The bell tower in the north suddenly rang once. Then twice and thrice. Ishaan Dev looked up, his heart skipping a beat at the third ring. He was not alien to the concept of emergency bells ringing in Suryapali’s palace. The code for these was the same across the land. Three times meant someone was probably nearing death. His throat went dry as he heard Devdoot call out to him from the threshold. The urgency in his voice made Ishaan’s heart sink. “Your Majesty! Come with me immediately!”

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

Search This Blog