RAABTA

Kunwar Pratap was in his brown Dhoti, off-white angrakha and a piece of brown cloth tied to his head when he entered the palace premises. He was standing in the courtyard, eyeing the lofty towers and domes, wondering whom to talk to as some soldiers galloped their horses out of the stables on the right and some people were gathered on the left. The main entrance and two guards on either side and he decided to go towards the stairs leading up to the inner palace when the guards stopped him. “Who are you looking for?” “Rao ji?” He asked unsurely. “Rao Ramrakh…” “What audacity, boy?” The old guard scolded, “Say, Hukum!” “Yes, Hukum.” He nodded. “I came to tend to the stables.” “Then go to the stable, why are you loitering around the private gardens?” One of the soldiers said in a gruff voice. “He must be the one we were told about…” The other one reminded him. “Oh, go to the stables anyway, Hukum is busy practising, I will summon you once he is on the premises.” Pratap nodded at his words...

Hansa Baisa had never imagined in her lifetime that she would see the princess of Jalore, the queen of Mewar in a dimly lit hut on the outskirts of her fort. She felt anxious and guilty. She could not bow even when she wished to, for the maid who came with her knew that she was coming to meet a poor friend of hers who needed help. “You look just like you used to when we were children.” Maharani Jivanta Bai said with a smile. Hansa Bai looked up at her words, quick to realise the act and played along. “You look well too…” She lied. “Parvati Baisa.” Hansa was seeing Jivanta Bai for the first time in her life. She was nervous and weak on her knees. The queen of Mewar wore a simple cotton lehenga, with a bandhani dupatta and the room barely had any furniture. Jivanta gestured at the only piece of furniture, a makeshift bed, and told Hansa to sit. Hansa ordered her maids to wait outside the door as she sat down, holding her breath. She was a little alarmed, sitting away from Jivanta as she ...

Dusk was setting in and the citadel of Bijoliya was slowly being wrapped in a blanket of mist. The late autumn leaves were rustling and the wind carried some of them in through the jharokha of the palace. “Kasturi, clean the floor before Maasa comes by for the evening. You know she will not like the floors dirty before her evening prayers.” She picked up the dried leaves in her palm gently twirling them by the end and observing their texture as Kasturi rushed to do what was ordered. She looked up at the sky, peeping slightly from the balustrade. It was then that she saw her father’s horse being led away. He was home, why had he not summoned her? With a slight frown, she stepped down the swirling flight of stairs, gently pulling her lehenga over her ankles and ran towards her father’s chambers. “But you can never let anyone know. Not even Ajbante.” She stopped at the threshold alert as her father spelt out her name. She realised that in her hurry to catch the sunset from the tallest dom...

1553 CE It was not like he had never seen a damp cold room in a modest village. It was just that he had never called it home. The thirteen-year-old boy eyed his mother, trying to read her face. She seemed satisfied with the arrangements as she thanked the mysterious man who left after bowing. When he left, his mother started moving the things, unpacking the little they had with them. A thousand questions ran in his mind. Could they not go back home to Chittor? Why did they even leave Jalore? It was not like Rao Akshayraj Songara ever told his daughter to leave. But was she the kind to burden her father with her worries? He eyed his mother again. This time she had started cleaning the floor. The sight disturbed him a little. He had never seen his mother do such chores back home in Chittorgarh and never imagined the chief queen of Mewar would ever need to. She did not look upset at all. Perhaps she was good at hiding it but he was not. He had explicitly mentioned his disappointment that ...

1576 CE. The dark clouds circled over the Haveli of the Chieftain at Avadgadh, one of the unimportant posts on the western borders of Mewar, Rajputana. It was the arrival of the rainy season, with occasional downpours over the green veil of the Aravallis on the horizon and the streams that often meandered around the hills now surged like rivers. The monotonous life in the little settlement was stirred by the arrival of guests in the Haveli. It was not usual for the old chieftain to receive so many guests, especially women and it sparked curiosity and rumours among the villagers. Who were these people? Some of them looked like royal ladies and some not. In the inner palace of Avadgadh, on a balustrade that was designed with Jali, nymphs adorning its pillars that looked over the Aravallis in a distance, covered with dark clouds, the gusty wind blew the new curtains almost toppling a vase kept by the window. She caught it, alarmed, almost out of the force of habit to be alert about her su...