“She who once dreamt of heaven had to live in hell, and find peace in God.” Such can be a description if we look at Jahanara Begum’s life. Born in 1614 at Ajmeri Fort, and living there till the birth of Dara Shikoh, when she was just one and a half, she travelled with her parents through the Empire, living in tents while her father, Shehzada Khurram, fought wars. Jahanara, the Queen of the universe , named by Jahangir, was her mother's strength and father's pride. She took care of her siblings while her mother gave birth to fourteen children, some stillborn, some dying, in her nineteen years of marriage. While the sons stayed at Jehangir’s court, from a very tender age, she became her parents’ favourite child. She was back in Ajmer at the age of seven. That was the first time the Ajmer Sharif, Saint Salim Chishti and Emperor Akbar’s tales enchanted her. The fair, young, and innocent princess spends her days reading, her hair as dark as the night sky, and her eyes blackis...
Note to the readers: Women behind men in history fascinate me. I had been reading about the mothers and wives who changed men’s fortunes. But what about daughters and sisters? A few months back, I was looking for books on Mughal Ladies, mainly Noor Jahan and her work. In the bibliography credits, I had chanced upon “The Life of A Mogul Princess” By Jahanara Begum, the daughter of Shah Jahan. I had no idea about the book and thought it was another autobiography. Previously, I had read only about how she was imprisoned along with her father at Agra, and her involvement with Dara Shikoh, her younger brother, in connecting the two realms of Hinduism and Islamism and the establishment of Sufism. All of these and the chronological events of history can be found in various books. As I read each page of her diary, cross-checking each point with Jagunath Sircar’s “History of Aurangzib” and R.C. Majumder’s “Mughal Empire” as well as numerous other sources on the Mughal Harem, I discovered ...
"Why is it so difficult to forgive people?" She had wondered aloud to no one in particular. The banks of the Gangaur Ghat were fairly empty at dawn, and there was a sudden chill in the air as she covered her ears with her hair. Her deep black eyes were fixed on the ripples reflecting the first light of dawn. An elderly man was sitting on the bench feeding the pigeons that flapped their wings in glee. Two kids were sitting on a torn rug playing with a street dog. With her feet dipped till her ankles in the water, she shuddered a little in the breeze and pulled her shawl closer to her body. Her sandals and a bag she had bought yesterday were lying beside her. The way she kept it made two things evident. One, there was nothing valuable in it. Two, she was comfortable in her surroundings. "How do we let go of people?" She sighed at the water. To an onlooker, she could very well look like a lost tourist. "Who said you need to let go?" She frowned at the ...
The doorbell rang, making him stare at it. Keeping aside his paper, he stared at the clock. Opening the door, the unfamiliar face smiled at him. “Here is your delivery, sir”, he took the pen from the boy, and signed at the desired space, taking the box wrapped in purple in his hand. He smiled at it. A lady was waiting at the gates of the college campus, with a satchel bag, in casual jeans and a tee, her hair flew in a ponytail over her shoulder, and her eyes were searching. Staring at the watch, she sighed and murmured a curse. Beside her stood a couple; the girl was blushing at the bunch of red roses she had just received from the boy. A typical couple scene! She shrugged. Her attention was drawn toward the bike that screeched to a halt in front of her. “Sorry, Sorry”, he took off his helmet and took a deep breath, “For you” She frowned at the red rose in his hand, and he frowned at her face. That was the day he realised this girl was different fr...
The late afternoon was setting into the evening as the sky turned into a darker shade of blue. The cottony clouds floated by, as the sun shone, playing a game of hide and seek with the meadows below. The Flight was on time. The window seat saw an eager face smiling down at the roads heading straight for the city ahead, patches of greenery, huts and perhaps cattle. She adjusted her glasses and sighed. In her late Twenties, Baitanbonhi Mukherjee was coming back to her roots after a really long time. It felt like forever since she was in Kolkata the last time. She wouldn’t have this time also, but Bengali mothers have their way with emotional blackmail, and that forced her to finally pack her bags and come back this time. Ma and Baba waited eagerly at the Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Airport’s Domestic Terminal's gateway for the familiar face. “Why isn’t she still here?” He checked his watch for the umpteenth time while his wife gave a warning glance at his impatience. “It’s t...
Ajabdeh pulled her black sweatshirt closer to her body as she put aside the laptop and closed the door of the balcony she had opened. Sitting on the windowsill of the hotel room she is now sharing with Heer for the three-day extravaganza called a d estination wedding of her friends, all she could think of was… She frowned at the Document with a few typed words and a blinking cursor waiting for her. “Urgh… Deadlines!” She slammed the Laptop, making Heer wake up with a frown “Jija?” Ajabdeh looked out and stared at the grounds below. It’s started to drizzle. The orange and pink drapes made a triangular shape above the round yellow sitting areas on the lawn of the Radisson Blue, where the grand wedding was being held. The wedding planning crew was preparing for the traditional Sangeet and Mehendi. In the evening, this would turn into a stage for the Bollywood-style extravaganza they all were told to practice for. Heer yawned slightly, stretching her arms, then typed her hair up in ...
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Last updated: February 4, 2026.
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