Skip to main content

Situations

Devdoot was sceptical about the arrival of the royals from Meendeep as soon as Maharani Priyambada called him into the inner palace and informed him that arrangements were to be made for the Meendeep royals in the guest wing, and they would be staying for a while. Although he knew it was his duty to serve Neelambargarh and its guests, he was not sure how unbiased he could be if and when he crossed paths with Kumar Mahendra. The rumours he heard were rather scary. Meendeep had been burnt to the ground by Suryapali, and somehow miraculously, Mahendra and his family escaped. The Maharaja found them roaming like destitutes in the forestlands of Neelambargarh, and although he was yet to come back after inspecting the ports and increasing security there, the royals were immediately sent to the capital. Although in her last trimester, Urvi had reduced much of her work by the order of the queen, having more people around to serve meant there was a chance she would probably come across Mahendra or his family members. He wasn’t sure whether it was safe or healthy for her and the baby. What if Mahendra found out that she was carrying his blood in her womb? Would he try to kill the baby or, worse, her? If his mother or wife found out about the past, would Urvi not be punished? Worse, Devdoot’s heart skipped a beat as he remembered her words. What if things rekindled between her and Mahendra? Where would that leave him? He hadn’t even fully come to terms with his own feelings towards her. Unsure of how to bring it up, he walked home only to find Urvi getting ready for her duty at the palace. He helped her absentmindedly with a pin she had dropped on the floor as Urvi observed him, narrowing her brows to ask what was wrong. He shook his head. It was still some time till the royals arrived, and she could do with some more stress-free days, he gathered.
“I heard Meendeep was burnt down.” Urvi’s words made him stop folding the clothes she had just dried on the line outside the window and look up at her unreadable face. “They said everyone died.”
“Where do you hear such violent things?” Devdoot frowned rather disapprovingly “It is not healthy…”
“That is all the maids are talking about.” She shrugged, almost mumbling.
Devdoot walked up to face her and placed his hand gently on her shoulder, concerned. “Are you doing all right?”
“Yes.” Urvi nodded firmly. “I am. Yes.” Devdoot could tell she was lying when she avoided eye contact, and his heart skipped a beat. Clearing his throat, hoping that it would do away with the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach, he spoke again. “Well, not everyone died there…” Urvi looked up as he narrated the Maharani’s instructions and added, “If you want, I can tell the Maharani you are sick and let another person take over your duties.” Urvi shook her head, “Vrinda isn’t ready, and there’s nobody else she trusts now. I will be fine even if I see him.”
“What about … umm…” Devdoot looked unsure. 
“I know you will be around to protect us.” Urvi smiled reassuringly, “I will avoid meeting him.” She reassured a not-so-convinced Devdoot. Urvi didn’t know how she could explain to him her thoughts and emotions. Yes, she hated Mahendra, but she was as much a part of the wrongdoing as he was, if not more. Of course, she was naïve enough to fall for his promises, but the child she bore in her womb was his. Nothing could change that. And somehow, Urvi hoped that her child would get to meet their father once, even if he didn’t know it. She didn’t know why, but she wanted to see Mahendra again. They had left without saying goodbye the last time. She knew if she told Devdoot, he would mistake her feelings for a stronger emotion of love. But somehow, Urvi felt that she and her baby needed that closure, and it was by some divine intervention that God was granting her that.

The prince of Neelambargarh was in the courtyard on the neatly maintained lawn across the bushes of temple tree flowers growing nearby, where the wet nurses often took him for his fresh air strolls. It was a strict instruction from the queen that nobody else was allowed near the prince when he went out to the courtyard, nor were his nurses allowed to take him elsewhere. Vrinda kept a close vigil on the prince, usually, but with Urvi not being able to move around quickly, she had more responsibilities at hand. The wet nurses sat down near the water where the lilies grew to keep vigil as the prince toddled around the grass and crawled across, chasing butterflies. Mahadevi Mandakini was returning from the temple after praying to the Lord, as soon as she heard about the tragedy of Meendeep. It disturbed her to imagine if Trinayani Devi knew of it or what she was going through alone in Suryapali. It was when Shivanandan observed her not being able to concentrate on scriptures and feeling restless that he suggested she should pray. He was two paces behind her as she walked into the inner palace premises, making the maids bow as she passed by. Shivanandan’s eyes immediately fell on the lawn where the prince’s giggles could be heard. He was crawling at a rather fast pace towards one of the bushes where the butterflies were. Without sparing a second thought, Shivanandan sprinted across the lawn, grabbing the attention of the wet nurses who indulged in gossip, and making Mandakini gasp as he picked up the prince before he could touch the bush. The wet nurses came running to the scene as the rattled Rajputra started wailing, and Mandakini followed to find him in Shivanandan’s arms. Her heart skipped a beat. What if they accused him of trying to harm the child? To her surprise, Shivanandan scolded the wet nurses for being inattentive, “His Highness was going towards a bush full of caterpillars, aren’t you supposed to guard him?” The wet nurse was about to take the prince from his lap, mumbling some excuse, when, to their surprise, the wailing prince turned to Mandakini and grabbed at her drape instead. Mandakini gasped, stepping away from the proximity she stood at with the prince, remembering her nephew’s instruction.
“He wants you,” the wet nurse spoke almost in disbelief. “Pacify him, please.” Mandakini Devi shook her head as soon as Shivanandan offered the child to her. The commotion had by then caught the attention of the queen, who walked in with Vrinda, worried. One of the guards who had rushed to the scene briefed her on the incident. Maharani Priyambada took Rajputra Mrityunjoy from Shivanandan and tried to pacify his cries, warning the wet-nurses sternly of the consequences. She then turned to Shivanandan and thanked him as he bowed.
“I must serve Your Highness. No need for you to thank me.” As Maharani Priyambada smiled, she once again observed how Mrityunjoy leaned towards Mandakini Devi, who stiffened and looked away. Priyambada could see that her eyes were moist. She sighed as she observed her son and, to Mandakini Devi’s surprise, pushed him to her arms. She looked a little taken aback as the prince immediately grabbed her drape, and Maharani Priyambada smiled reassuringly. 
“You proved your loyalty enough; it is time we show some trust as well. Will you grant the Rajputra the pleasure of having story time with his grandmother once a day, like the Maharaja had with you when he was younger, Mahadevi?” Mandakini Devi couldn’t believe her ears as she nodded.
“It will be my honour, Your Highness.”
“Vrinda, make sure the prince visits his grandmother every morning after breakfast for some story time.” She instructed before taking Mrityunjoy back from Mandakini Devi’s arms as she kissed his hand gently. 

“I am beginning to feel I will never be able to repay your debts…” Mandakini Devi spoke to Shivanandan as soon as she reached her threshold. “There are too many.”
“Then stop counting them, My Princess.” Shivanandan shook his head. “If it were any child there, I would have done the same.” Mandakini Devi nodded.
“What do you think about the Meendeep incident?” She asked him at last. Shivanandan smiled as if he were waiting for her question.
“It might be good for the Maharaja of Neelambargarh to have some allies here, who have a more… objective pair of eyes? Like Raja Viraj had. And the rumours might prove damaging to Maharaja Ravi Varman’s reputation and question his ethics, but…”
“But?” Mandakini Devi raised her eyebrows. 
“I am sure the Suryapalian citizens will be fed with half information, and they will hail their king.” He shook his head. “Like we always have.” Mandakini Devi nodded silently at his words. It was perhaps true that the tyranny of a king was only known to his enemy states. “I heard they didn’t even spare women and children.” She sighed.
“And does that surprise you?” Shivanandan shook his head. “After what you saw at Suryapali? Knowing Trishaan Dev was in charge of the army?” Mandakini Devi shook her head. She felt guilty as soon as she heard that it was Trishaan Dev’s decision to massacre the civilians at Meendeep. If she hadn’t insisted on keeping him alive… But how could she then face Subhashini on the other side?

Contrary to the environment around the Heemdevi, Maanwari was in a celebratory mood. Raja Viraj had returned home to get back to his administration and kept in touch with Mait, who were still secretive about their investigations. However, the medicine woman gave him the rare good news. Smriti was expecting twins. The moment he heard that, he made sure Rani Smriti didn’t need to step out of her chambers and had all the care and pampering that she needed. Of course, their interactions were now limited since he wasn’t allowed into her chambers, but he couldn’t wait to hold his children in his arms. Meanwhile, his kin were responsible enough to remind him how Maanwari endorsed polygamy and that his half-brother would have been king had he not been killed along with the king and the other queens back when his uncle rebelled. It was a subtle way of reminding him to look for other alliances, something whose mere rumours worried Smriti, who had throughout her idle pregnancy questioned her unroyal yet noble birth and wondered if another queen would change the dynamics she had built so far with Raja Viraj. Much to her surprise and everyone else’s shock, Raja Viraj declared that since he had grown up with Neelambargarhi traditions, he would be monogamous and his alliances wouldn’t require marriages. The flames of this rebel hadn’t doused amongst the kin who scrutinised the choice of the king when Rani Smriti went into labour. The focus was now shifted to the future and bloodline of Maanwari, and at midday, the wet nurses declared the births of the Rajputra and Rajkanya of Maanwari, who were healthy and well, as was their mother. Raja Viraj declared their births pompously with celebrations across the nation and scrolls with gifts being sent to their allied states.

Rani Nayantara had opened the scroll addressed to her hurriedly, praying that it was some news of her mother, when she found it was Maharani Priyambada’s message about Meendeep. Her heart skipped a beat as the message was short and grim, and she sat down on the edge of her bed, worried. Although the Maharani had written that her mother was well, she wasn’t sure of which information to trust anymore. What if she were not alive? The mere thought of it made her cry even in her sleep. Rani Nayantara wasn’t well. But to whom could she turn with her agony and pain? Her husband was busy preparing for a war that he said was inevitable. The war between her brothers… no, not her brothers. Between her brother and the Maharaja of Suryapali, the enemy. She couldn’t help but remember all the times she had found Ravi Varman by her side, protecting her as a brother should. Did he not remember all that anymore? Raja Girik kept on repeating to her how kin were never family, and she never believed him until her worst nightmare came true. Rani Nayantara let out a cry. She didn’t even try to conceal her pain as the maid-in-waiting rushed to her side to comfort her. They didn’t tell her so, but they were worried about her health. They were worried about her sudden pangs of crying and tantrums when she threw things across the room. They were worried she had not eaten or slept properly ever since her brother left. Raja Girik barely spoke to her, for when he tried, everything he said reminded her of a home she lost and a mother who was imprisoned. He didn’t know how to help his queen anymore. Rani Nayantara knew it wasn’t his fault; she was beyond help now. She looked up as she heard footsteps and tried to compose herself as her husband walked in.
“I… are you fine?” His words made her smile faintly and nod. He knew she was lying as he cleared his throat and looked away. 
“Umm… prepare some congratulatory gifts to send to Maanwari.” She frowned at his words, cluelessly as he continued, “Raja Viraj was blessed with twins, and he sent us some gifts.” Raja Girik didn’t hide the sadness in his voice as Rani Nayantara suddenly felt guilty. It's been a long time since they were married, and months since she had entertained him in her chambers. Even the senior ladies who once suggested she start a family had now given up on her. The only reason she was perhaps respected in the palace was that she was the princess of Suryapali and sister to the king of Neelambargarh. Without their names, she was nothing, and Raja Girik would perhaps not even think twice before replacing her with another princess who would provide him with an heir and a blissful marriage. Rani Nayantara had tried; she had tried to be happy and forget her old self and concentrate on being the queen, but every time someone addressed her with her title, it reminded her of her mother. Every time she had a responsibility at hand, she would think of how her mother would have done it. But was pondering on the past worth her future? She cleared her throat as the king was about to leave.
“I was thinking…” She could see that he was surprised that she even spoke to him. “Maybe if you come around tonight… we should talk about…” Rani Nayantara gulped down the lump in her throat, reminding herself that she needed to do what was expected of her, what would have made her parents proud. She couldn’t let them point more fingers at her dynasty. Her son was destined to be the king of Anantanagar someday. Raja Girik was pleasantly surprised at his wife’s suggestion. Perhaps things would change for the better this time.

Maharani Priyambada smiled as she opened the scroll from Maanwari that had arrived with the gifts. Attached to it was a small letter from Smriti asking her to name her children. Surprised and overwhelmed, Maharani Priyambada immediately called the priest to suggest names for the future of Maanwari. Raja Viraj had received an unsealed letter addressed to his wife. Frowning cluelessly, he took it to Rani Smriti himself as he eyed the children asleep on the cot. Smriti opened the scroll as he waited, and her eyes sparkled in joy. 
“Maharani Priyambada has decided on their names.” Raja Viraj was pleasantly surprised that his wife had asked Priyambada to do the honours of naming their children. “Raj Kunwar Shankar Aditya and Rajkanya Aditi.” He nodded at Rani Smriti.
“We should arrange for their naming ceremony then.” He suggested.
“I wish they could be blessed by her.” Rani Smriti smiled. “I haven’t seen her in a long time.” Raja Viraj nodded, as a thought occupied his mind that he didn’t want to upset his wife with. If they did meet now, it wouldn’t be a happy reunion, so he prayed they didn’t meet any time soon. He wanted some time with his children before he went to battle again. He eyed them sleeping peacefully as he hugged Smriti.


Popular posts from this blog

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...

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 ...

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 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...

Protectors

Rao Surtan was at the Fort gates as the soldiers tried in vain to attack with arrows from above the towers. His troop was stronger and more competent than the one Balwant headed at the Bijolia Fort Gates. They had managed to hold the troops back for a day, but they feared they could no longer do so. “Break the door”, Surtan ordered the elephants. “Where is Ajabdeh?” Hansa looked around the cellar. “Jija!” Ratan exclaimed. “She was on the roof last time I saw her.” “Ajabdeh.” Hansa Bai opened the cellar door and stepped out, followed by Ratan, who was equally worried. “Stay back!” Sajja Bai called in vain as Jaivanta Bai too walked out and up the stairs to the corridors of the Rani Mahal in search of Ajabdeh.  Surtan’s troop had entered the palace, and he made his way to the Rani Mahal. He was having different thoughts now. Killing Jaivanta Bai won't yield him anything… Maybe capturing a few young maidens… Ratan froze in the corridor, seeing the man approach. Behind...

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...

Wedding Bells

Udai Singh was adjusting his turban when a smiling Sajja Bai entered to take something from the room. He smiled back at her, asking, “ So Solankini Ji, are you happy now?” “ Ji Ranaji. This all still seems like a dream." “Yes, seems like yesterday Kunwar Pratap and Kunwar Shakti used to run about the palace.” “ And fight!” She added.  “ They used to fight all day but could never stay away from each other.” “ Remember that time Shakti got hurt?” “ Kunwar Pratap cried more than him!” Jaivanta Bai smiled as she heard the conversation. “ These two are like each other’s shadows. Remember when five-year-old Pratap asked me what marriage was?” They all laughed at the memories. “ Yes, and Jija told him that some girl will come and be his friend forever and in exchange, you have to share everything with her.” “ And Kunwar Pratap!” Udai Singh Laughed. “ Pratap was wailing that he never shares anything with anyone except Bhai  Shakti.” “ And Kunwar Shakti was t...