The Fallen Queen

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 shocked Hansa by pulling her hand. “Sit closer to me.” She said with a smile. “We haven’t met in ages.” Hansa nodded as her throat was dry. With trembling hands, she offered the food and clothes she had brought along with her, and Jivanta held her hand almost reassuringly as she looked up in awe at the queen. Her face looked grim and her smile tired, her eyes looked sleepy, and yet there was a radiance around her gracious presence. “Why did you not bring the children along?” Jaivanta spoke again, perhaps because Hansa was silent. “How many do you have?” Hansa found her voice. She loved speaking about her children.

“Three. Balwant is my only son who was born six months ago. He has learnt to sit up and respond now” She smiled.

“What about your daughters?” Jaivanta inquired. Hansa was not sure whether it was for the act or if the queen was genuinely interested.

“Umm… There is Ajab… Ajbante. She is the eldest among my husband’s children.” Hansa smiled involuntarily. “She is now eleven. And the middle one is Ratnawati, she is five. My husband has more wives and sons from them…” Jivanta smiled. “Yours seems like a happy family. Are you his eldest?” Hansa nodded as she could sense the longing in Jivanta’s voice as she sighed. “Your daughters must be like your friends. I always wanted one.” Jivanta smiled faintly.

“Ajbante…She is my closest companion. She is very mature for her age.” Hansa stopped. Perhaps she was speaking more than the queen wanted her to. Jivanta did not seem displeased, but if she was, she hid it well.

“How about…” Hansa was not sure how to ask or if it would be deemed appropriate. “Um…”

“My son?” Jivanta could read her mind as she smiled. “He is looking for a job here. He is thirteen.” Hansa let out an involuntary gasp. “What odd job could he possibly do?” Hansa’s heart raced. It was Kunwar Partap in question. Could they sin by letting him do odd jobs in their fort? He was the heir apparent of Mewar.

“He will find something. He has to.” Jivanta Bai seemed determined. “He needs to learn that life is not easy.”

Hansa frowned at the words. She had always imagined royal ladies living a cushioned life and wanting the same for their children. But Jivanta seemed to be unprotected as a mother to the heir apparent.

“If I may…” Hansa eyed the maids at the door. “He can come to work for us.”

“At the Haveli?” Jivanta asked. Hansa nodded. “Of course, why not? There are plenty of jobs there and we can find him one and…” She drew her Ghunghat close to her face and hid her mouth as she whispered. “It is safe.” Jivanta looked up at her words. It was then that Kunwar Partap arrived with flowers for his mother’s evening prayers.

“Look, Maasa. I found these in the…” He stopped, alarmed at the royal lady who now stood up. She looked his mother’s age by a glimpse, and he had never seen her before. Was she finally here with a message from his father?

“Bow to the Patrani of Bijoliya, Kika.” Jivanta suggested. Hansa was alarmed to find the prince of Mewar readily bowing to her as she stepped back.

“She wants you to work at the Haveli.” Partap frowned at his mother’s words first and then turned to Hansa, folding his hands. “That is very kind of you, but my skills are limited.” He eyed his mother. “I can clean, perhaps look after horses. Nothing more. Village life taught me you can’t find a job with those skills. Everyone has them.” He smiled a sheepishly humble smile. Hansa Bai shook her head. “We will find a job for you, and I will send someone with the information tomorrow.”

“No, he will go to the palace himself.” Jivanta insisted. “You are his employer; he should be the one going…” Hansa Bai could not protest. If the maids weren’t there, she was surely going to fall at Jivanta’s feet and seek her blessings. She had never seen such an enigmatic lady in her life. Hansa left the hut humbled.

Ajbante served her father as he was speaking to the Ashwapalak Pradhan, who had just arrived.

“I recruited a boy. He is the son of someone who saved my life once, so don’t be hard on him.”

“Ji Huzoor.” The man bowed.

“He will come back tomorrow asking for the job. Send him inside first.” The man nodded again, his pagdi making his head wobble more than needed. Ajbante wondered as the man left. Who was this simple horse caregiver who was allowed inside the palace on the first day? These men never stepped onto the premises.

“Why did you stop serving?” Her father’s gruff voice alarmed her as she poured some more Dal. Ajbante walked back to the kitchen slowly, lost in thought. She could guess but she needed to be sure. How could she be sure? She never saw him, did she? She only heard stories from her father. Ajbante spotted her mother in Balwant’s room on the way. She stepped inside.

“Where did you go in the afternoon, Maasa?” She startled Hansa. “I was looking for you.”

“I… went to see a friend.” Ajbante frowned at her mother’s words.

“A friend? Why didn’t you take Ratan or me along?” Hansa looked up at her daughter’s confused face.

“Not that kind of friend. When I was younger, she was one of my playmates. Now she has fallen into hard times, and your father offered her son a job.” Ajbante inhaled as she nodded. In the flickering light of the lamp, she could see her mother avoiding her glances with little drops of precipitation appearing on her forehead even in the winter breeze. Ajbante turned to leave.

At dawn, Ajbante stood at the balustrade of her chambers, watching the sun slowly appearing on the horizon as the leaves rustled in the breeze and the birds chirped. She watched a flock flying over her head as she unmindfully straightened her tangled hair. Ajbante had not slept all night.

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