RAABTA

  1576 CE The rain poured incessantly on the cliffs and soil of the Aravallis. It drained away the last signs of a devastating short-lived war on the bank of the Banas. Somewhere the carcass of a horse lay unattended, somewhere else bodies of soldiers waited to be mourned. Of chieftains and kings had the better fate of being removed and sent back home to their mourning widows and children. The fort of Kumbhalgarh was under siege.  Ajbante Kanwar ran her cold, trembling hand over the feverish forehead of her husband. He groaned at the familiarity of her touch as he tried to say something in vain. Sweat covered his brows, and the Vaid attended to balming his wounds as blood oozed out of the cuts and slashes.  “I… I…” He could barely open his eyes when the light from the torch in the otherwise dark cave blinded him. His eyes closed in a reflex as she bent over his body, shielding his eyes from the light. He opened his eyes once again, this time to see her blurred figure over...

Rana Udai Singh had sent his Senapati Kunwar Partap back to Chittorgarh because Dungarpur had summoned them to the battlefield. How did a friendly visit culminate in a war? Rumours spread faster than wildfires in Mewar. Rana Udai Singh was attending a Mehfil where he liked one of the King’s best dancers. He wanted to take her back to Chittorgarh, and the king, who took pride in art, refused to part with his best dancer. Udai Singh, at the height of intoxication, abused the king, insulted his dynasty and almost forced the dancer girl to follow him, leading to an altercation. What he expected now was for Kunwar Partap to lead an army to Dungarpur, wage a war and force the king to apologise. Kunwar Partap was appalled by what he heard from the soldier. Could the Rana not understand that he could not make any more enemies? He asked his troops to prepare to leave and informed Raoji. Ajbante Kanwar ran down the corridor to her chambers as fast as she could. She did not care if anyone saw her...

Rajkumari Ajbante Kanwar had been busy arranging for the Shravan festival. It was a huge task at hand, with the temple premises needing supervision and decorations underway. Rao Ramrakh Punwar had hand-picked the chosen honoured families who would set up their stalls while the lakeside fairgrounds opened its doors to the public. The arrangements for the Mahapuja needed the utmost concentration from Ajbante Kanwar. That meant she could not go about her usual routines. She barely saw her siblings now that she missed her Maasa’s story sessions and had to hurry through her morning chores to spend the rest of the day at the temple premises of Mahakal. She could not meet Bijli or take her lessons, and she reminded herself it was a matter of a few days. Hansa Bai had relieved her from her cooking duties because the priests needed her assistance. This also meant that although Kunwar Partap was around for a few days, till the Pujas, they barely crossed paths.  Kunwar Partap was adjusting to...

Ajbante Kanwar walked into the temple premises, a dupatta drawn over her head, carrying her basket of freshly picked flowers, when she spotted Kunwar Partap waiting by the entrance. Ajbante Kanwar was suddenly aware of the maids following her as she nodded at his smile, and he gestured at her to enter the temple. The maids stayed back outside the temple as the priest greeted them. He took the flowers from Ajbante Kanwar to make the day’s garland for the Lord as he stepped out, and they folded their hands in front of the Phallus God.  “The Mahapuja happens on the grounds.” She made him nod as he followed her, keeping a distance of formality. Her anklets and kamarbandh had small tinkling bells on them that made music as she walked out of the temple shrine and pointed. “There the priests sit, here near the Kund the women sit. Daata or whoever will conduct the puja sits under that Chatri. But you have to start here, bathe the Lord, offer prayers and then proceed to the Havan Kund. Ther...

Ajbante Kanwar was standing on the balustrade of her room, looking over the horizon. It was midnight, and a veil of stars covered the sky, twinkling like precious diamonds. She had just blown out her lamp after reading for a while. She had quietly stepped out on the balustrade, her hair free and dancing in the gentle breeze, her heavy jewellery and lehenga abandoned for the day, and she had a calm smile on her face as she lifted her eyes to watch the stars. She reminisced about the day while she stood there with a coy smile on her face.  Kunwar Partap had taken an interest in teaching Akhil and Balwant some basic skills that would help them defeat the enemy. While Akhil, who went to Gurukul, had a proper sword, Balwant, who was now five, used a wooden sword but was adamant to learn. They had followed Kunwar Partap to the arena when he talked about sword practice during a meal. Rao Ramrakh resisted their idea, but Kunwar Partap insisted he was happy to teach them. He eyed the veiled...