Prologue: Impulsive Hearts

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 did 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 the 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 surroundings, with her painted hands. She then stepped out onto the balustrade, drawing the blue dupatta over her face, exhaling something heavy in her heart as her eyes shone and the moisture hit her face. The Maharani of Mewar had her own fears.

After they arrived at Avadgadh, he was preparing to leave for the battlefield. It was not something new or different, yet this time, he made sure they travelled to a safe distance away from the course of action. That bothered her. She could feel him entering the chambers, his presence not announced by the guards stationed outside, perhaps because he did not want the people of Avadgadh to be aware of his presence or that of his family. She stiffened, refusing to turn and acknowledge his presence, for she knew her eyes would speak of fears she dared not utter in words or sentences in front of him. He seemed a little perplexed as she did not move. Had he upset her? He cleared his throat once, running his rugged fingertips over his well-maintained moustache as he walked up to her and found the courage to speak.

“Do you also feel I am making a mistake?” His gruff, low voice made her turn. As she did, the dupatta slipped off her head to her shoulder, and he could see her thick braided hair, the hairline drawn with vermilion in his name, covered by the Mangtika that once belonged to his mother. She stared at him with a faint smile that did not reach her tired eyes. Her face looked dark. Like she had been sick for a long time. His gaze could not meet her eyes as a sense of guilt suddenly hit him. He had never been a good husband to her, had he? She could perhaps read his mind as she smiled a little wider, almost amused, forcing him to look up at her. They were now in their late thirties, parents, rulers, husband and wife. But once they were eleven and thirteen, young dreamers, friends, lovers. Yet in that very moment, she felt like he was that same thirteen-year-old boy she once met.

“Why are you having doubts, Ranaji?” She stepped up to him and placed her painted hand gently on his broad chest, where his heart thumped. “This is not the first time you are listening to your heart.” He smiled at her words with a nod, and then it faded into a sigh as he held her hand over his chest. “You must have a lot of regrets for that, Maharani.” She shook her head. “You gave me everything I ever dreamt of and more. You fought for me, you gave me children to be proud of, a family to love and cherish… What more could I have wanted?” She held his hand in between hers as she drew her head closer to his chest, and he used his free hand to place it over her oiled hair. “Perhaps if you married into a merchant house, or that of a chieftain…”

“ Would they have been the bravest man I know?” She placed her head in his chest now, removing her hands from his and wrapping them behind his back. He felt her hug was tighter than usual. It was midday, and usually, if they had a conversation in either of their chambers, she would always be alarmed about the children walking in. But today was different. He embraced her tightly.

“You have been my strength through life, Ajbante. I ask you to believe in me this time. I need that.” He blurted. She nodded with her eyes closed, feeling his heartbeat.

“I have no doubt, Ranaji, that you will win this battle and free Mewar.” Her voice of faith was the only thing he drew his strength from. He knew she would wait for him the way she had for twenty-odd years, whether he won or lost; nothing mattered to her more than his life. To her, he was a hero who could never stoop in her eyes, even if he made the harshest choices in life.

“Ajbante…” Although he did not want to let go, he knew he had to. She understood. “I must make preparations.”

“I will count the days till we meet again.” Her eyes were teary. She tried in vain to fight back her tears as he wiped them off her cheek with his thumbs and forced a smile.

“And what will you do all this while?” He tried to lighten the mood, “Apart from praying for me?” She smiled coyly at her husband.

“Reminisce all the times I have been glad that I met you the way I did.”

Purnota: Chapter Thirty Two

Bondita got down from the local train with a duffle bag and her hoodie tied around the waist of her dark green Kurti, which she teamed with white leggings and a white dupatta. The weather at Canning seemed hotter and humid than Chandannagar, and at first glance, Bondita spotted the spring blooms of Krishnachura painting the tree at the station red. She picked up her bag and looked around the crowded station. Someone was supposed to come and get her. She dragged her bag through the crowd and finally reached the gates. The rickshaws, vans and small autos were shouting out names of different places, names that appeared like images in her memories. “Bondita Malkin?” She turned to see a woman in a checked printed saree worn above the ankle with a Ghomta over her head and the Anchol tied to her waist. Bondita nodded as the woman in her forties surprised her by touching her feet. Bondita jolted away in shock. “What are you doing?” She asked with raised brows as the woman took her duffel bag. ...

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...

Purnota: Chapter Thirty Three

Aniruddha stepped out of his room, in a wrinkled Kurta, with a towel and toothbrush, to almost bump into Bondita, who was hurrying out of her room, trying to wear her watch on the go. He stopped before she barged into him and spotted her in one of Thamma’s Dhakai sarees. It was a white-on-white saree she had worn with a quarter-sleeved black blouse. Her hair was bunned with a claw clip, and she wore a small black Teep complementing her Kajol-drawn eyes. She looked slightly startled as she stopped at his dishevelled appearance and looked away at his stare. “Why are you…” He cleared his throat to do away with his morning groggy voice, “Dressed up?” Bondita shook her head at his words. “Because I have camp today, the NGO representative is waiting downstairs.” At her words, Aniruddha nodded and promptly held her wrist to check her watch. Bondita eyed his index finger and thumb, briefly brushing around her wrist as he suppressed a yawn. “But… It's 7 AM.” Bondita smiled, amused at his wo...

Purnota: Chapter Thirty Six

Bondita opened her door in the usual hours of the morning and found Thamma and Jyatha Moshai on the couch in their living room, sipping tea. She had half sat on her bed, leaning against the pillow all night, imagining her plight when she faced Aniruddha in the morning. What if he did not think of it as much as she thought of his actions? What if that was his uncomfortable way of comforting her because she was upset? But what about his eyes, his gestures? Had she misread all of it? Bondita blushed to herself the moment she remembered how his eyes followed her around for the past two days. Bondita was hurrying through her daily chores, eyeing the clock, for she would be late for work and overheard Trilochon lament about things not changing since Binoy left. He thought that things were getting better at home, but as soon as Aniruddha had left for Sunderban, Binoy informed him that he had changed the attorney in charge of his case. Bondita frowned slightly as her hand stopped at wearing th...

Purnota: Chapter Thirty Five

“The bride is older than the groom.” Aniruddha heard one of the older villagers speak in a judgmental tone. “No wonder the higher castes don’t attend such atrocities.” He eyed the younger man he was talking to, who smiled. Aniruddha was sitting beside them on a bench in the open courtyard of a house where the wedding rituals were taking place. Tirio and Tumdak were playing rhythmically in a corner as some women danced to the tunes surrounding the new bride and groom. The men sat on the other side of the courtyard. “Forget about the Brahmins, we don’t expect them to come.” The younger man shook his head. “As for traditions, what is wrong if the bride is older?” He smiled sheepishly at the older man. “What’s wrong? Everything. Master Moshai, you can be educated, but our ancient traditions have reasons. The groom must be older than the bride. It has some reason.” He shook his head. The teacher, in turn, educated the man that it was a perfectly normal Santhali ritual to marry older wo...

Purnota: Chapter Thirty Seven

“Why will Bondita not come for Holi?” Asha asked as she inspected the colours, Abir, Pichkiri and balloons Somnath had ordered from Baro Bazaar. He shrugged. “She is scared of colours, I think.” Asha smiled, a little amused at her clueless husband. “She is not ten anymore.” He looked up at her words with a sheepish smile, “Well, I never saw her play Holi, perhaps Dadabhai knows the reason.” Asha contemplated her husband’s words. She did not share a relationship with Aniruddha frank enough for him to share things about Bondita. It would be easier for her to ask Bondita instead. “If you wish for her to come,” Som said, like he could almost read her mind, “Perhaps you can invite her. She won’t say no to you.” Asha nodded. “It will be good to have the whole family together. It's not been so since the wedding.” She smiled. Som agreed as he matched the list with the things. “Yes, and Baba will be coming too, he told me not to tell Jethu, but I was surprised by that.” “Maybe because he an...

Purnota: Chapter Thirty One

“Please, Sir, we were going to show the evacuation notice to the lawyer.” The older man with a salt and pepper beard and a bald head pleaded with the Judiciary official, who handed him a paper of illegal occupancy. The NGO stood on the ground of the property that belonged to the Bhowmicks. Their lawyer, Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury, had sent a notice of warning and evacuation that the NGO did not pay heed to. The man in charge looked least concerned at the plea of the older man. His hands were folded, eyes teary, as the men who came with the Bull Dozer to knock down the one-storey house with thatched roof broke down the board of the NGO. “Why did you not show the notice then?” The man rebuked in a gruff voice. “Because we thought it was some mistake.” Another man, relatively younger and calmer, came forward from the crowd that stood there watching as he spoke. “We got the land as a gift from Mr. Bhowmick some eleven years back to make the school for the orphans.” “Then where is the dee...

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 ...

Purnota: Chapter Thirty Four

“You are cheating, he can’t play!” Bondita was attracted by the commotion downstairs as she opened the window of her room. She walked out to the balcony to inspect it. It was Sunday, and Padma had promised to make Chicken Curry, knowing Bondita had invited Tapur to join them for lunch. In the courtyard was a group of boys, probably Sidhu’s friends, with a broken pipe for a bat, a wooden plank for a wicket kept between two bricks and a rubber ball, arguing over a game of cricket. Bondita’s eyes stopped at Aniruddha, marking a line with chalk and then measuring feet using steps to mark the boundaries. Bondita looked amused at the sight. “Batuk. You went out fair and square; give me the bat.” Bondita put her hands on her waist as she commanded. Batuk refused to part with his new bat. Som frowned at his brother. “She is right; it was a clean bowl. Give her the bat!” Som commanded. “I was not ready.” Batuk shook his head. “She knew that.” “It's still out.” Bondita frowned. Aniruddha wal...

The Difficulties

“The best of our characters are often reflected in our children.” Kunwar Shakta had visited the court at Udaipur after a Turk marriage offer was turned down by Rana Udai Singh for the third time for one of his Princesses. The Ranimahal at Chittorgarh buzzed with rumours of him warning his father about the consequences of enemity with the Turks and also about the impending doom of Mewar. He had apparently irked Kunwar Partap by suggesting a peace alliance with the Timurids was beneficial to Mewar. Rana Udai Singh, in his anger, had banished him from his court. Kunwar Shakta had sworn not to be associated with the royal family any further and to join allies with the Turks. Rawat Chundawat was calm enough to pacify the angry prince and offer him to shift to Bassi and give his decision a second thought. However, Kunwar Partap had refused to abandon Chittor, defying his father’s orders for a shift to the newly founded capital with his Ranimahal. He wanted to stay at Chittorgarh, which...

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