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 because 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

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...

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...

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 ...

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...

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!" ...

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 ...

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 ...

Eternally Yours

Ajabdeh woke up to find neither the pillow nor the husband beside her. That was really unusual. Has she overslept? No, it was dark, and the first birds were singing. She sat up to find that he had neatly arranged the pillows and made his side of the bed, and put his blanket over her. She checked the changing room. No, he was not there, but unlike other days, his clothes were not in a mess. She freshened up and reached the dressing table. His brooch was not there. Where is he? Has the war... Her heart skipped a beat. What if he had left and not even woken her up? " Daasi? Daasi?" She called out as one of them walked in. " Ji Kuwaranisa?" " Where is Kunwarsa?" " He left early in the morning for Dangal and then a visit to the village. Do you need anything?" " No, you may go now." She put on the sindoor in worry. Maybe something urgent has come up. She walked to the Puja room and was shocked. Her garlands were made, the Chandan was in plac...

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 ...