Kika

The Bullock cart stopped in the middle of the forest. The scorching heat of the summer sun over the head. It made the woman sweat. It had been a long time since she had been outdoors in the summer sun this way. Kunwar Pratap was holding the reins of the cart. He was in a simple white angrakha and a red pagri. Those that commoners often wear. He glanced over his shoulder at his mother. She looked tired in her simple green lehenga. Her face was covered in a semi-transparent dupatta.

"Do you need to stop for water?" He enquired. Jaivanta shook her head at her concerned son. He was barely twelve, yet he spoke like a protective man.

They had stopped twice on their way from Jallore to Bhilwara. Once, they had bought this commoner attire from a local market. They had paid a young woman handsomely for buying it for them. Then they stopped for the night at a traveller's den on the way. These traveller's dens were made by Sher Shah for traders who stopped on their way to Surat. Kunwar Pratap had entrusted his local friend with keeping Sarang for a few days. But the truth is, he was not sure when he was coming back for him. He was sad to part with his horse. They had become friends. But he vowed to come back for him someday.

At dawn, they had resumed their journey on the bullock cart his friend provided. Kunwar Pratap wondered if they were lost. Could it be possible that they were just roaming in the jungle? He was about to look up at the sun to assess their position when he heard rustling of leaves. Alerted, his hand travelled to his cummerband, where a dagger was hidden. Something stirred behind the bushes. Before he could react, Pratap found their cart surrounded by a group of Bhil women. They were dressed in a white piece of cloth wrapped around their bosom and groin, with a headgear made of a single feather. Each of them had a spear pointed at them. Kunwar Pratap raised his hands in a surrendering gesture as Jaivanta got down from the cart. Their dialect was different, but Jaivanta managed to convince them that they were lost. She sobbed that her husband had abandoned her in the jungle, and she had nowhere to go with her child. Kunwar Pratap watched his mother being consoled by the Bhil women and wondered if it was an act. Maybe deep down, Jaivanta was not lying. He looked a little disturbed.

"Where are you from?" One of the Bhil women asked. Jaivanta said she did not remember the village where she was married; they had travelled to many places for business and never settled. The Bhil women took pity on her.

"Come with us. If our Sardar is convinced, you can stay here." They suggested. Jaivanta thanked them gratefully.

The Bhil village was in a clearing surrounded by forestland. The huts were small, surrounding a large area for gathering in the middle. The mud walls and thatched roofs, often covered with dried leaves and hay, kept the huts cool during summer. The Bhil women brought them to the Sardar. The curious eyes of the villagers walking out of their huts scrutinised the strangers. There were little children, with little to no clothes on their bodies, running around, playing with sticks they picked from piles kept for firewood. Older men and women were sitting around the centre of the village. Young teenagers, probably close to Pratap's age, protected the village with homemade spears, bows and arrows while the men and women went to hunt. Only mothers nursing their young ones remained in the village in the morning. Whatever they managed to hunt, boars, deer or rabbits, were brought back and shared over the fire pit at night. There was a makeshift shrine in the village. A Phallus of Lord Shiva was offered with fresh fruit from the forest daily. Some of the Bhils had cattle. Goats for milk. Someone coming to their village with a bullock cart was a rare sight.

The older woman narrated Jaivanta's story to the scrutinising Bhil head, Rana Punja. He observed the boy keenly. His arms looked bruised, and his hands looked rough for his age.

"Are you a soldier?" He asked, startling Kunwar Pratap. He eyed his mother and shook his head.

"Have you done menial work?" He enquired. Kunwar Pratap cleared his throat.

"I tend to herds and cattle. I can also bring firewood and..."

"What's your name?" He asked. Pratap looked a little uncomfortable.

"My father called me ... Chand." He said, unsurely.

The Bhil chief raised his hand, making him stop. He ordered one of the young men to build a hut for them.

"You are welcome to stay with us." He eyed the boy keenly. Something in him had caught his eye. "But you have to work for your living."

"Dhanyavaad." Jaivanta Bai had bowed. The man nodded at her.

"And from today, you are one of us." He made Kunwar Pratap smile faintly as he bowed. "You are our Kika."

The first two days, Pratap helped the Bhil lads make a hut for them. Jaivanta helped the older women of the tribe cook, clean and take care of hut repairs. Pratap bonded well with the boys. He barely had any friends in Chittorgarh who did not know him beyond his title. Here he was one of them. He started tending to their cattle. Being around animals made him happy. Jaivanta helped the Bhil women make bead garlands and jewellery for themselves. Every day at dawn, Pratap watched a troop of young men and women go hunting. He was growing restless. He was learning the Bhil language and got to know that the name he was given as a new identity by the Bhil meant "beloved son." Pratap walked up to the Sardar one evening at dinner. That day, the hunt was good, and a few boars lay as offerings.

"I have a request." He made the man nod. "I want to go hunting." The man looked surprised.

"You are too young for that," he shook his head. "Learn your way around the village."

"But I can be of help." Pratap insisted. "I have observed your hunters' practice." The man looked impressed at his adamant nature.

"Fine. One day. If you are not ready, you will be rejected." Kunwar Pratap nodded readily.

The spear Pratap was given was lighter than the one he used back home. It was handmade from wood and sharp metal that the Bhils could find. He moved it around a few times to get used to its grip and weight. Jaivanta pulled him aside and reminded him, "Remember, you are learning. Don't show them you know how to..." Kunwar Pratap nodded. He was excited to go on his first hunt. 

Traditionally, in the royal house of Mewar, after a coronation, fathers took sons on hunts. On every occasion, he had seen his father go hunting and come back with tigers, leopards, bears and boars. But he had never had the experience. Pratap followed the Bhil men into the forest. They reached a thick area and started climbing up trees. He was a little confused. He always imagined the hunter stayed on the forest floor. A young man helped him up onto the tree trunk they shared. "Remember," he whispered, "If you see something move, alert the others with a soft whistle. Do not attack alone." He nodded at the man. After a long wait, with occasional monkeys appearing on the tree branches and birds chirping, they heard a noise.

"Sambar deer." The man whispered. "Wait for it." There was a sound of hooves and rustling of leaves. He watched the man steady his aim at the movement and followed. Someone whistled. Three spears hit the deer as its partner ran away. They got down quickly and tied their hunt to a bamboo to carry it back. Two people were taking it back to the village while the remaining troop resumed hunting.

Pratap watched the men put mud and clay on their hands and faces. He followed cluelessly.

"It is so that we are not easily spotted."

Over the next few months, Pratap learnt different techniques of staying hidden in the forest and using the terrain to his advantage. "If there are tall trees, they always help if you can climb the highest branches. If there are cactuses, use them to attack enemies. If there are boulders, they can be rolled down cliffs. Narrow passes are useful to trap enemies and then attack them from above." Pratap absorbed as much knowledge as he could from the Bhils. Such use of terrain and camouflage was not taught in Gurukul. In fact, in all the books he had read about warfare, none mentioned these techniques. He was intrigued.

Udai Singh was perplexed. He twirled his moustache, a little worried as he sat on the edge of his bed. Dheer Bai offered him a paan that he refused.

"I don't understand. Why will they leave Jallore?" He said at last. Dheer Bai sighed.

"Maybe she thought someone was poisoning him there, too." Her light-hearted tone did not go well with Udai Singh. He frowned at her.

"Now my spies cannot find them." He shook his head. "It is bad for my image if people come to know that I have no clue..."

"Nobody knows." Dheer Bai asserted. "We will find them before..."

" He is the people's favourite prince. God forbid they are aware he left Jallore..." Udai Singh shook his head. "The chiefs will question me."

Dheer Bai was bothered as well. With Kunwar Pratap out of sight and supervision, who could tell what he was up to?

"What if he rebels?" Udai Singh said aloud what Dheer Bai feared.

"He won't, Ranaji. He respects you. Hence, they are waiting for you to call them home." She reasoned. Udai Singh looked worried.

"How will I call them home if I don't know where they are?" He asked.

"Do you want to?" Dheer Bai feared.

"I don't think she will accept. I will not let myself be rejected and insulted." He shook his head.

It was a regular day of hunting. Pratap carried his spear out and met his friends.

"Today we are going deeper into the forest." One of the men explained. "The water bodies are dried up. Without rain for a few days, we can assume the animals went deeper into the forest to look for water."

"I heard there is a waterfall nearby." Someone suggested.

"But aren't tigers roaming free there?" Another man asked, unsurely. Pratap stood in the huddle, remembering his lesson from Gurukul. As a royal, he was taught the techniques to attack and defeat tigers and leopards. Something the commoners were not taught. The men discussed the last time one of them lost their lives to a tiger. But they did not have a choice.

By midday, the hunting party was deep inside the forest. There were so many unknown flora and fauna. Pratap did not know the core forest was so calm, cool and beautiful. He looked around as the men tried to find water bodies nearby. They were on foot, and the drummers had accompanied them just in case there was an animal attack. He walked behind the second man in a single line as they navigated through the forest. They could see snakes coiling around tree trunks. Insects buzzing. Birds chirped above their head. The vegetation grew thicker, and the forest was darker. They contemplated stopping. It was then that he heard a growl. Everything after that happened too quickly for him to think.

Pratap turned towards the sound of the soft growl, which the others seemed oblivious to. He raised his spear alarmingly as a tiger jumped out of the bush at one of the Bhil boys. Everyone shrieked and ran. All Pratap could see was a sudden flash of yellow as he aimed it. In a flash, the tiger was groaning in pain on the forest floor. The attacked boy held his bruises and stood up. He looked baffled. Everyone came back to the clearing to see the tiger hit straight in the throat by the spear. Pratap stared at his first kill, blood rushing through his veins as he wiped sweat off his forehead. He looked up at the Bhils to realise his mistake. They were staring at him suspiciously.

"Who are you?" One of the older men asked. Pratap frowned slightly.

"What do you mean? I am Kika." He shrugged. The man shook his head.

"Are you a royal spy? Are you here to harm us?" He was surrounded by the men.

Jaivanta walked out of her hut, worried. She watched the men surrounding Pratap and the Bhil leader sitting under a tree. The atmosphere looked hostile. "Tell us who sent you."

"Nobody sent me." Pratap protested. Jaivanta saw that he was losing his cool. She interrupted.

"I apologise for telling him to lie. The truth is, we needed a place to hide. A place to keep him safe. And you were the only people who came to my mind."

The leader was losing his patience as she folded her hands and apologised.

"Who are you?" he asked again.

"I am..." She eyed the men from behind her veil. "I am Maharani Jaivanta Bai of Mewar." A gasp went across the gathering. Women exchanged glances in shock. " Princess of Jallore." Kunwar Pratap nodded at his mother.

"And I am Kunwar Pratap Singh Sisodiya of Mewar." 

The villagers protested. They did not want to keep the runaway prince and his mother and get into a direct conflict with Udai Singh. Some of them supported Pratap and how he saved their man from the tiger.

"I believe your staying here can help mend our relationship with the royal family of Mewar." The leader spoke at last.

"I believe so, too." Kunwar Pratap agreed. "I will be ever so grateful to you for providing us with a home. When the time comes, I will make sure your debts are repaid." He promised.

Love awaits Kunwar Pratap in the next chapter. Before you continue, could you spare a moment to share how you felt about his childhood stories? Your comments are my only way to know how the stories make you feel, whether you are still there, still on the journey. Thank you.