Chapter 35:
Salima Begam was stoned temporarily while entering the room, being stunned to see the image of the debris of the great castle in front of her.
Debris of an unbreakable castle... Pieces of an awe-inspiring sculpture... or a thunder-stricken, burnt, great tree who used to overshadow the earth with its proud and assuring umbra, the canopy of the crown-like leaves... that's what Bairam Khan exactly looked like now... a crownless, defeated monarch who is still in denial of the loss he just has encountered.
Sighing a little, Salima Begam slowly sat beside him. After yesterday's night and the last conversation between them, her self-respect would prevent her from starting a normal conversation with him ever; but right now she could not help but to feel empathy for her defeated husband. And the empathy rejuvenated a long-lost affection. And pity. For a moment she could realize how much helpless he must have been in front of his pride and sentiments. And today when that pride is snatched from him, the world must have crushed for him.
She knew this will happen one day. She had seen it coming. She tried to show him as well, didn't she?
She took a deep breath before breaking the silence. "My Lord...
"Get prepared for our departure, Salima. A cold voice came out from Bairam Khan's throat. "I will leave the palace within half an hour.
Salima Begam took a long breath before speaking. "Pardon, Khan Sahab... But preparing everything so fast...
"I don't care... Bairam Khan glared vacantly at her. "Just get yourself and Rahim prepared to leave.
"Where are we going? The other arrangements?
"Just do what I ask! Bairam Khan barked out in frustration. "I will spend the rest of the life in jungle but never ever take any privilege from this empire!
"Apologies for objecting, Khan Sahab, Salima Begam uttered in a firmer voice. "But in this time I think we should take decisions logically; not by flowing with emotions. We have a kid with us, we cannot go anywhere we want without ensuring his safety. After the incident happened today the group of Hayat Khan is furious and can do anything to us if we don't have proper security. Rahim has a future and I cannot put that at stake for your stubbornness.
"I see! Bairam Khan taunted furiously. "It seems you are very willing to stay here? Well, why not? You are indeed very fond of the person who insulted your husband publicly; you should be very happy!
Salima took a long breath to hide the frustrated helplessness. "I don't want to argue with you anymore, Khan Sahab. I can go anywhere with you according to your wish as the duty of your wife. But I can never ever let you to compromise with Rahim's future because of your own foolish acts!
"Foolish act? Bairam Khan shouted. "Now I have to learn from you what is foolish and what is clever?
"Killing off a special employee of the emperor in front of everyone and publicly manhandling his corpse to promote own rebel against the emperor... what should this act be called, Khan Sahab? Salima said curtly.
"That... that Jafar was spying on me! Bairam Khan banged the nearby tea-table. "Bairam Khan, Khan-E-Khana Bairam Khan was being spied by a filthy creature; he got the courage of putting eyes on me and raising his voice on me! What do you think, I would forgive him after this audacity?? I did the right thing! He shouted.
"Are you really blind or just hide your face under the sand not to see the sun like an ostrich? Salima asked in a hurt voice. "Open your eyes, Khan Sahab! Except the fact! Already you have lost everything for your ego and stubbornness and still you are not ready to face your faults? When will you open your eyes, Khan Sahab? After drowning completely?
"Fault!! Yeah... My fault! Bairam Khan shook his head fanatically. "It was my fault to take the vow of protecting this empire with the last drop of my blood! It was my fault to bring up and shield the prince of the empire like my own son! It was my fault to believe all his dreams as my duty, all his problems as my battle, all his happiness as my content! I should not have forgotten that I am a mere serviceman here working and being paid by the emperor. But see, I had forgotten that most crucial fact, that I am being paid for my job and hence there is no value of additional loyalty and devotion... Hence I had to see this day, you see, I had to hear all this from that very little boy whom I almost raised in my own hands, that I am no one but his servant! His voice cracked while his eyes shined in raged tear.
Salima removed her eyes from his eyes for a moment and sighed heavily. The concerned and protective self of fatherhood becomes very visible in his usually cold eyes in these moments of helplessness, and the usual egoistic, controlling persona gets suppressed under that bright light of concern. And today Salima could easily see the pain in those eyes... the heart-breaking pain of that hurt fatherhood, the blooded wound in the securely nurtured coat of affection which was only reserved for the man whom he still sees as a little boy, whom he has always loved as his own son, and who happens to be the emperor of the empire. As today, that man has denied to accept the care and concern of his fatherhood anymore.
How Salima would make herself believe that she herself is the witness of him conspiring against the empire and planning to assassin him? After seeing the pain in his eyes? There is some mistake, there must have been which they must find out!
But before that she needed to fix her family.
"Pardon, My Lord. She spoke in a mild yet rigid voice. "There is a slight difference between caring and controlling... You forget this again and again!
"What do you mean?? Bairam Khan shouted at her, but his shout was weak.
"He never wanted to disrespect you, Khan Sahab. He wanted to respect you as his father. But you yourself ruined your image. It was not him; it was you who made him tell those words to you in front of all people.
Bairam Khan parted his lips to tell something, but voice did not come out. Instead, he took a long breath. "However, now when there is no place for me, I ought to leave... I will ensure my son's security, that will be no longer the concern of the empire, and you have to rely on this. Go! He ordered. "I will leave the border of the capital before afternoon.
"No, you won't, Bairam Khan. A sweet, elegant and authoritative voice intervened suddenly. Both of them turned back and stared at shock.
There was a small troop of women in veil near the door escorted by some highly trained group of eunuch bodyguards; the woman leading the line was tall, dignified and dressed elegantly, face completely covered by a heavily embellished veil carrying her status symbol, and the crown at her head clearly stating her designation in the empire. It was a highly unlikely probability, and hence unbelievable as well, but they could not deny what they are seeing; that the woman standing in front of them was Marium Makani.
Before Bairam Khan could regain his composure and address her, a companion of the queen-mother spoke on behalf of her.
"It would be very helpful if you give some time from your tight schedule and could arrange a private room to talk, Khan-E-Khana Bairam Khan, Marium Makani would like to address you in private.
"Of course... of course... Your wish is an order for me... Bairam Khan was seemingly puzzled while bowing down in front of her. "Long Live Marium Makani... How did you care to visit in the place of this mere servant? You could have summoned this servant at your service, I would have...
"I had to come myself, Bairam Khan... As I owe you so much that none can even know. This time Marium Makani spoke herself without caring for a medium. "Will you please...
"Let me take care of this... Salima Begam came forward and bowed down.
After a moment, there was no one in the room. The Marium Makani and Bairam Khan were sitting face to face with a curtain between them maintaining the courteous ethics and dignity. Bairam Khan inhaled a long breath before he could start the conversation.
"I cannot tell how fortunate I am that you stepped in my small establishment, Malika-E-Jahan! He stated. "Now if you would please to tell me what made you come here personally... You could have called me at your service instead...
"As I told you, Bairam Khan... I owe you. The queen mother spoke in her usual dignified voice.
"I... I don't understand, Malika... Bairam Khan looked confused.
Hamida Banu smiled slightly. "You know it, Bairam Khan. The political situations changes every day, the political relationships changes as well. The definition of duty, responsibility in politics also changes according to the situation. But even in this entirely changed political world, one thing will always remain constant. That I am in debt to you... Not as an empress, not as a queen mother; but as a mother. Nothing ever will change this fact. Nothing ever will repay that debt.
Bairam Khan's eye's shook incoherently; he was suddenly out of speech.
"I know I have no right in your individual decision. But, if I request you something will you deny to listen to that? Queen mother asked.
"What are you telling! Bairam Khan uttered in embarrassment. "Your request is an order to me!
"No it is not... As I did not come here as the Marium Makani today. I came here as a mother; a mother who relies on you the most for the protection of her son! Her voice was touched with a little emotion. "I know you are willing to leave after the incident happened today. But I want you to stay.
"Pardon, Malika-E-Azam. Bairam Khan bent his head. "You must have heard what happened in court and also the order of the emperor...
"I know everything, Bairam Khan. Marium Makani's voice was firm. "The order of the emperor was completely a decision of the authority of the highest justice of the empire and as a part of the empire we must respect that decision. I am not here to pass a single comment about that incident. But I don't want you to leave Agra. I cannot afford to lose you; my son will not afford to lose you now.
"He does not think so; not anymore... Bairam Khan lowered his eyes and murmured. The pain was evident in his voice.
"It is not unexpected from him, Bairam Khan. Marium Makani smiled. "Children of his age wishes to become independent completely; they starts taking up their individuality, takes own decisions, starts shaping themselves perfectly on their own understanding of life. This process converts them from being a mere child to a complete human being. This is the process of maturity, and it happens spontaneously. Elders cannot control this process from outside, they cannot shape the children's life according to them... they can only step behind and watch out. Her voice became tender as she looked at Bairam Khan's eyes. "That's what a father do Bairam Khan, does not he? Invisibly stands behind the son to support him in every single step of life, to protect him, to help him to build his own individuality... being unnoticed, unrecognized, scarred?
Bairam Khan stared without a blink.
"You are a father yourself, you tell me... Hamida Banu said again. "Does a father need to get anything back from the son for supporting and protecting him? Or does a father stop caring for his son if the son demands he needs no more favour from him? Or does a father go and shake hand with the enemies of the son when he thinks his son does not care for him?
The last sentence made Bairam Khan flinch. He gulped and closed his eyes.
"I still remember that day, Bairam Khan. Marium Makani's voice touched with nostalgia. "Kamran had used Jalal as a bait in front of thousand canons. His Majesty was nervous and devastated in worry of his child. Only because of your tactful leadership we had got our son back. I have not forgotten any of the moments that you have spent risking your own life to keep my son safe. I have not forgotten those days when you protected this whole empire like a shield after His Majesty's demise. Her voice trembled. "I don't know if the empire has paid you enough for your duties, Bairam Khan, but I would never be able to pay your debt... as a helpless alone woman, as a mother of a child whose life was surrounded by danger from the day of his birth! And today that helpless woman is begging to you... don't leave my son unprotected! He needs you as much as you need him!
"But Malika-E-Azam... Bairam Khan's voice shivered in emotion when he managed to speak. "He told me, Malika-E-Azam! He particularly ordered me to stop myself from protecting him anymore. He himself took away all my responsibilities of...
"An emperor took away the responsibilities from an employee, Bairam Khan. A pupil did not deny the rights of his mentor from him... A pupil has no right to do that. He has only restricted you from your official duties; he has not ordered you to go away from his life forever! Marium Makani said firmly. "You might have earned many status and power from the empire in all those years, Bairam Khan; but I don't bother. For me you have only one identity... that you are the protector of Jalal. And I believe from my heart, I sincerely believe that you will keep the honour of that identity till your last breath. No political agendas, no want of power, no ego, no grievance would be able to overpower that single identity of yours! I believe that whatever resentments are there between you and my son, will not overpower the honour of that identity of yours. And I do hope that you will respect that belief of mine!
Hamida Banu stopped and got up. Her usual calm voice was now touched with a slight excitement and her eyes shining in majestic aura. Bairam Khan too got up and bent his head. "As you wish, Marium Makani! I will do my best!
"Thank you so much, Bairam Khan. The queen mother acknowledged.
Bairam Khan sat there for a long time after Marium Makani left with her followers. Her words were quaking inside his heart.
Does a father go and shake hand with the enemies of the son when he thinks his son does not care for him?
It was late of night; the sky was pouring restlessly. The pitiless rain was falling in crazy chaotic drops as the gusting wind carrying them in wild vortices one moment and in diagonal sheets the next. The room was dark, doomed and drowned in the pit of silence. Only one single lamp was lit on the small table near the couch, and Jalal was sitting on the floor putting his elbows on the table, sinking inside his palms. Usually the constant rhythm of rains bears something soothing to cool the mind; but now it felt like a chaotic noise to him which ignited the severe headache he was suffering from the evening. There was too much stress today to endure in a single day, too much pressure in both mind and heart. Too much stain to handle.
Jalal picked up his head with a slight whimper and pressed his temple with his thumb and index finger. Why did not he summon for medical help when the pain started at evening? One herbal bath, a tender head massage and two dosages of some effective medicines could give instant release to this pain. But he did not care; did all his works with this and skipped the meal, now sitting on the floor in his dark room, drinking the fifth glass of his regular drink which generally is not more than three and subsequently wincing in pain, enjoying the agony alone.
Yes, enjoying. He was actually enjoying the sting of severe ache inside his head. It was giving a sadist pleasure to his scarred heart.
Maybe that's why, instead of calling for a maid to give him a head-massage, or calling for the royal physician to treat this increasing suffering, he poured drink in another glass despite knowing it will only make it worse. He stared still to the tiny ripples in the coloured liquor inside the goblet, sighed deeply and drank it in one gulp. Then he crashed out on the floor tiredly without caring to get up on the bed, forcefully closing his eyes and acting dumb to the irritating rhythm of rainfall.
"What makes you so frustrated, Jalal? What do you want?
"Hah! Jalal fluttered opened his eyes and pressed his forehead with his fingers. The cold whispering voice was still echoing inside his head.
"You think you are very strong, don't you? You are very proud of yourself, think that you have the capacity of writing History in your own hands... But actually you are weak! Absolutely weak and coward! Coward of facing the truth; coward of facing the fate... Coward, coward! Jalal is a coward! Jalal is a weak! Jalal is weak! Jalal is weak!
The echo was thrashing inside his head in an increasing nagging tune, and simultaneously a sound of a nasty laughter throbbed in the head in the rhythm of the rain.
"Stop it! I said stop it! Jalal jumped up and shouted desperately before cupping his face with his palms. Slowly he removed his palms and clutched his hairs tightly, trying hard to anchor his senses in reality and to get back his composure. But the echo inside his head did not stop.
What is happening? Is he dreaming? Has he gone mad? Or simply he has got drunk enough to hallucinate. Jalal does not like the idea of getting drunk. He simply hates anything which has the capacity to take the control of his sense and actions. And today he let himself to be overpowered by that demon? How could he?
"Because you are weak Jalal! You do not have the strength to face the truth alone!
"I need a sleep! A good sleep! Jalal murmured to pacify himself.
"No Jalal...The demon inside his head whispered. "You need someone. And you have no one!
Absolutely nonsense... his drowsy head is blabbering incoherently. Jalal managed his unsettled footsteps, fetched the pitcher of water and poured some water on face, eyes and throat. The water wetted the valuable carpet of the floor. However, he does not care... it is the question of his survival.
"You are alone Jalal! Completely alone in this world. Just like this lonely dark night. Get over from the illusion of love and being loved. Being alone is your fate... is your destiny!
Not at all! He is not alone. He is surrounded by people are his own... His mother, Badi Ammi, Ruqaiya, his family, the devoted attendants like Abdul, the loyal and devoted officials, Adga Sahab, Kha...
And Khan Baba is out of the list now. The first cross beside the name of the loyal people who loves Jalal. The voice in his head giggled cruelly.
Jalal stood in front of the mirror, listlessly looked at the dimmed image of himself. Red eyes, clumsy, semi-wet hairs and droplets on the surface of face- he was looking like a great tree massacred in storm. He gazed at the mirror tiredly for a long time. Slowly, his own mirror-image started giggling at him.
"What made you so vulnerable today, almighty emperor? Mirror Jalal asked.
"It was a stressful day! Jalal said. "I am tired. Just tired.
"Escaping from the truth again! Mirror Jalal mocked. "But how will you hide from yourself? Look at me, I am you! I can read though you!
"I am upset about the incident today. I am upset about Jafar. I am upset about Khan Baba. I knew he was way too restless nowadays, but I ever imagined he will commit such a horrendous crime! Jalal confessed.
"And?
"I am guilty. I believe I am indirectly responsible for Jafar's death... There is no reason to think like this but still I am!
"And?
"I expected all the resentments to be resolved soon. I expected something better. I did not want everything to end so hastily like this! Now there is no way left to come back!
"And?
"And I am disgusted! Disgusted of the people, disgusted of the system, disgusted of my life!
"But you missed the real point! The main reason of your restlessness, your frustration!
"There is no other reason!
"Yeah, there is! The mirror Jalal laughed. "That is, you are scared Jalal! You are scared of losing. Khan Baba is only the start... Everyone will go away from you... The more you go up, the more they go away! You know this, and you cannot face this truth. You break down. As you are weak, Jalal, you are an emotional mess!
"No... nothing like this! Jalal closed eyes and shook head to get rid of this hallucination.
"See, you are again turning face from truth! Mirror Jalal taunted at his face. "Accept the truth Jalal, start believing that there is no one for you in this world. Embrace your loneliness, it will protect you!
"No! Loneliness cannot protect people! It makes people weaker. Jalal muttered. "And I know I am not going to live such a life. There will be someone who will be with me... who will care for me... who will stand by me, who will protect me when there will be no one beside me.
"Who? Mirror Jalal looked intensely with a cruel smirk in face. "Your enchanting moonlight whom you left amidst the desert of Rajputana?
The severe headache spread in the heart. Jalal tiredly closed his eyes.
"You can only love the moonlight when the moon is far away from you. You cannot touch it with your bare hands. It can give you solace temporarily, it cannot stay by your side in your need. Mirror Jalal mocked. "Your continuous dependency on the memories of Purnima Bai in your vulnerable time only displays how much lonely you are, Jalal. The light of moon is the reflection of your inner loneliness only. Purnima can be merely a reflection of your loneliness, she is not an aid of it. Admit it, she has no existence in your world, she is only in your colourful imaginations. It is the only truth of your life.
"No! Jalal gasped. "I have loved her, and she has loved me... that is the only truth! She has touched my heart, I have touched her soul, and her existence in my life is too strong to be a mere imagination. I have loved her deeply, from the root of my entity... and if there is any truth in my love, I will win her. Because she is my love- too precious to let her be lost in the deep sea of solitude! I will find her, I will make her my own, I will...
"And how will you do that Jalal, when she does not submit to your love anymore? Mirror Jalal smirked. "Forgot how she denied you in Vrindavan? Forgot how cruelly she said at your face that she does not know you? How easily she denied accepting the fact that you are the person who once touched her soul in a moony night of a lonely desert, forgot everything?
Jalal's lips trembled as his throat choked. "I know she is frightened... she must be frightened of consequences.
"If you love her and she loves you, you have the right to know the reasons of her frights... By hiding those from you didn't she deny the rights of your love as well?
"Everything will be resolved. Jalal shook head in denial. "Once I find her, I will resolve all the differences and...
"How will you find her, Jalal? By sending some random spies to search for some nameless girl who gave you a fake identity? By conquering the whole Amer first before checking each and every girl of the land to find your familiar face? Mirror Jalal laughed. "Well, suppose you find her... then? How will you convince her to concede her love when she has denied her existence in your life at first place? You must not have expected her to accept you the moment you find her, as you know how much strong she is in her decisions. Then what, emperor Jalal, you will give in your self-respect, will be begging in front of her for accepting you as her love? Or will you show your true emperor form in front of her, forcing herself from admitting the truth that she loves you? In either way, it will be your defeat! You might find her, but you cannot win your love. The voice in his head suddenly echoed in the walls of the room. "Because Jalaluddin Muhammad, you got it wrong. It is no more a war between you and your situations in order to win her. This war of love is now between you and your Purnima... And the first blow that you get will be from her. It is a two-way losing, Jalal... you might get Purnima or you might not... but you will be defeated anyways. Being defeated is your destiny... being weak is your destiny... being lonely is your destiny...
The frequency of the laugher increased along with the rhythm of the rain. The horrible sound echoed inside the room, inside his head, shattering the last trace of mental peace... The reflection of the mirror was smirking, still mocking at him... such a humiliation... such a pain... so unbearable... how to get rid of this pain? How to get rid of this!
"Aaahh!! In frustrated rage, Jalal clutched his fist and punched on the mirror of the wall. The reflection scattered, the mirror broke into pieces, blood started dropping from Jalal's wounded hand. Jalal knelt down, staring viciously to the broken pieces of glass on the floor... blood dripped on the carpet and coloured it red partially, but he did not try to stop the bleeding... as he was not feeling any pain in hand. His head was tearing up, his heart was bleeding, and the echo of the mocking laughter was still ringing inside his ears...
It was a nice evening in spring. The fragrance of festival is flowing in the air of Rajputana. Very soon the fragrance will be suppressed by the odour of blood. But even the air has no hint of that.
The grand celebration of spring festival was going on at the vast ground of fortress premises. A grand pyre has been set up, and men and women are moving around it, touching fire on the woods one by one. It is the old ritual of Holika Dahan, the festival of burning away old impurities to embrace the new. Three men was sitting at the roof of the fort, enjoying a festive drink, watching the glee and happiness of the celebration. King Sagarmal, Kunwar Sujamal Singh, and Jashwant Singh, the commander of Sonargarh army. The holy smoke from the sacred pyre swirled up to the sky, spreading a vive of purity and prosperity in air.
"Tomorrow is Holi. Jashwant Singh suddenly muttered unmindfully.
"Yes... day of colouring the world freshly with happiness and new hopes! Sujamal nodded smiling at him. "God knows how the sun of this new beginning will shine on us!
"New days start with new hope, Sujamal... Don't fret thinking about the worst. King Sagarmal murmured while his lowered voice touched a pitch of romanticism. "The colour of gulal will be the jaytika of our soldiers head this time, the spring festival will rejoice our victory.
"Are we sticking to our old plans? Jaswant asked suddenly, breaking the romanticism.
"Yes... so far. Sagarmal nodded. "Tomorrow is Holi, after that Gangaur celebration will start in the states, the authorities will be busy with that. The defence will be less, and the security of borders will be less tight. He took a long sip from the goblet. "A perfect time for the attack...
"Tomorrow we are going to brush up the final strategy with the ministry then. The army will start marching after 3-4 days. Sujamal said. "Half of the army will march to Bhangarh first, the rest of the army will march to Amer a day later and will surround the fort. According to our spies Bhangarh has a very weak defence and during Spring festival it goes to worst, hence based on the information we have already estimated that the soldiers of Bhangarh will be able to join the rest of the army within 4-5 more days after suppressing Bhangarh's army and performing a negotiation... and under the double force the king of Amer would have no position but to surrender.
"Precisely... King Sagarmal nodded. "After surrounding the fort our first demand will be a peaceful meeting of negotiation where we will be putting our conditions. We have to clear first that we are not intended to fighting among each other, as our aim is to eradicate those barbaric Mughals and their bas***d emperor from the soil of our motherland. There will be a process of proper negotiation. We will demand the king of Amer to handle the control of kingdom in the hands of Sujamal as a condition of the treaty. He suddenly stopped looking at Jashwant. "Jashwant? He called.
Jashwant was looking at his goblet with lost eyes but there was a slight smirk of disgust and disbelief at the corner of his lips. He looked at the king. "Pardon...
"What are you thinking? Sagarmal asked. "Don't you have anything to tell?
"No! Not at all! Jashwant smirked. "I was just wondering how fast the sense of vehemence can convert into opportunistic thoughts of negotiation. His taunted glare directly triggered to Sujamal.
"What do you mean? Sujamal frowned.
"I clearly remember how you were ready to strangle me when I talked about negotiation the first night you came here. Jashwant's voice was casual but his glare kept on stinging. "And today you are reciting our plan so casually. Where did the fire of revenge go, Sujamal? How did it extinguish?
His verbal jab was so sudden that Sujamal only stared numbly. Sagarmal cast a frowned look on him. "It is not about personal vehemence anymore, Jashwant...
"Of course, it is not. Jashwant smiled looking at Sagarmal. "But I wonder what the reason of this sudden change of mentality is. Common warrior instinct, moral policy, or compassion for own family?
"What do you mean, Jashwant? Sujamal asked in a vexed voice. "Why do you keep on instigating me to fight against my family?
"Sorry, but was it me to tell you to come here after fighting against your family? Leaving Amer was completely your decision, denying Amer's royalty as your family was your decision, and now again accepting Amer as your own family is also your decision. Jashwant said calmly. "I hardly told you ever to wedge war against your family', Sujamal... Thing is, you are frequently fluctuating from your decisions.
Sujamal got up angrily and was about to shout, Sagarmal held his hand and raised his voice. "For God's sake, can you both stop fighting like kids? Jashwant... He told in an angry tone. "We have a big plan, and you must remember Amer is not the primary point of our strategy.
"Yeah, of course... Jashwant nodded and sipped from his goblet.
"I know Jashwant that you wanted to attack Amer at the first place without giving scopes of negotiation. Sagarmal continued... "But as situation says...
"I know Sagar... Jashwant nodded with a slight smile calling the king with his name, acknowledging his personal fondness on him. "You need not to clarify me anything... It's just that... I do not believe an Ameri. They can do anything. His voice suddenly got cold and lost while he repeated the last word. "Anything...
"Jashwant... Sujamal muttered looking offended. Jashwant seemed to get back the hold of his tongue and looked guilt. Slowly he got up and pressed Sujamal's shoulder with an emotional touch of affection. "Forgive me... He said in a pale voice. "I didn't mean it Sujamal. You are like a brother to me. I do not have any grudge on you... Please, forgive me...
"You haven't forgotten yet... Sujamal murmured, touching his palm. Jashwant shook his head slowly. "Can't forget... It's imprinted in blood.
"Try to forget, Jashwant. Sagarmal got up and stood beside him. "It's too old to be remembered and avenged. Remember, our aim is much more important than our personal vehemence.
Jashwant nodded silently with a weak smile; he stepped forward near Sagarmal and was about to tell something, but suddenly his cautious eyes caught someone from dark.
"Who's that? He shouted. "Guards! Catch him!
Before the guards could detect him, the dark silhouette was already disappeared inside darkness.
Holi... the festival of colour... the festival of joy... the festival of a new hope...
And after a long time Amer has adorned herself with the colour of spring, to celebrate the joy of this new beginning, hoping that this spring would bring the real colour of happiness in their despaired, dull and terrified life. The streets have been decorated with festoons, flowers, garlands and big rangolis; the dwellers of the fort are floating in the sea of pure reasonless joy, laughing, giggling, dancing, playing with colours... The colour of the celebration has touched the royal palace as well. Today, after a long long time the palace of Amer has again worn a veil of happiness forgetting her regular distresses to hope for a new beginning. The lawns, the balconies, corridors, all were filled with various huge rangolis full of colours and flowers, the decorations are still going on; the fragrance of flowers has enchanted the air of the desert land... the members of the royal family are ready to participate in the spring festival; playing with colours, spreading colours on each other, playing pranks, getting back the childhood again. Some of the royal women are busy in the royal temple for the preparations of the puja. The grand festival of gangaur will start right a day after holi, and special pujas will be held in the royal temple. There are lots of arrangements to be made. The spring festival in Amer is celebrated in a vast way, almost throughout the whole spring. After a long time Amer has emerged herself in the sea of joy in these days... All are laughing, shouting, enjoying with whole heart.
Well, except one.
Jodha was half lying on her bed, idly gazing at the sunny sky outside, mutely enjoying the solitude of the clear clouds of spring sky. The first spring during her solitary confinement, and she is definitely going to enjoy this bliss of solitude more than ever.
After a moment, she got up from the bed and slowly stepped towards the corner of the room where the small throne for her worshipped idols and her musical instruments are placed. Picking up the tanpura and tuning it, she stared at the face of the ever-smiling face of the idol of lord Krishna... A gentle and amusing smile spontaneously came on her face. The celebration of Holi belongs to lord Krishna and Shree-Radhika... Jealous of the fair skin of Radha, the mischievous teenager Kanha coloured her face with his own colour... Radha owned the colour of Krishna, Krishna owned the colour of Radha; and both of their souls coloured with the same colour, tied with the same string. Isn't the festival of colours is actually the celebration of limitless love, which knows no barrier? People celebrate the festival of colours, but cannot rely on the strength of the unbounded love. Thus, they try to bind it within social barriers, insults the eternal power of love by denying its purity.
Just like she disrespected her love by denying him... in Vrindavan!
Jodha's heart ached as she forcefully suppressed the bubble of tears in her throat. Days have passed after that afternoon... but she could not forget the sight of his defeated, despaired, desperate face for a single moment. His eyes full of urge, his voice broke in plead, each and every line of his face depicted the agony he is carrying inside his heart, how madly he was searching for his Purnima... and she broke his heart, even without flinching a little. She insulted the urge of her love for sake of the chain of social responsibilities... and came back in her cursed life of imprisonment on her own wish. She herself strangulated the existence of Purnima that day; Princess Jodha had killed mercilessly Purnima in front of her love. There should not be any thoughts of him bothering her anymore after that decision... But alas! Not for a single moment could Jodha survive without imagining him beside her...
The lump in the throat was getting bigger, and Jodha understood her mind won't be distracted by practicing singing. Sighing a little, she kept the instrument aside and sat in front of the mirror. She looked at herself through the clear reflecting glass, and smiled with a sigh.
It seems Purnima is really dead. Purnima is a corpse now. Purnima has been brutally buried under the icy-cold mould of Jodha Bai. At least her reflection was telling her so. Where is that old charming girl of 17 years, who used to enlighten the whole state with her bold, illuminating ray of existence? Where is that glowing, sparking, stimulating, beautiful young girl, whose sword was like a bolt of thunder, and whose smile as soothing as moonlight? The woman sitting in front of her mirror looks like an idol of marble... hard, cold, unmoving, nave of emotions. Her eyes have lost that old spark; they are tired of waiting and hoping... they are numb now.
Sighing a little, Jodha closed her eyes. Purnima is lost; Chandrajeet needs to move on. And what about Princess Jodha Bai? How would she spend her life, which is supposed to be long enough to spend entirely idle?
Well, she will, anyways... The stone-idols do not need anything to spend life. They can live years after years, eras after eras alone... completely alone, devoid of all relationships, all emotions...
Jodha will become a stony idol from now on.
Gulping a little to dissolve the lump of tears, she hastily opened a drawer to pick up the comb. But something else caught her eyes instead.
His dagger. With whom she was engaged' with.
Her hands spontaneously reached to the dagger as she started caressing it affectionately. The images of his jubilant, charming face flashed through her eyes in a moment. Unmindfully she clutched the dagger... And the rock of tear of her throat broke, tears dropped down on the blade of the dagger...
Why it is so hard to be a stony idol?
"Rajkunwarisa?
Jodha turned back wiping the tears with the back of the palm. Moti was standing at the door, a plate of colours in her hand.
"Wish you a very happy holi, Kunwari-sa... Moti stepped in and applied little colour on her cheek. The smile of her face lost suddenly.
"You are crying? She asked in a pained voice...
"No... only a little dust. Jodha lied despite knowing she won't believe, but she did not want to spoil Moti's festive mood with her tears. "Happy Holi. She cheered up fake while putting colour on her face as well. Then she affectionately touched her chin. "Always smile like this, and don't worry... Vijay will come back soon!
Moti's eyes blurred. It has been months since she had seen Vijay. Her eyes have got tired waiting for him. The first spring she is spending without him, and only she knows how it feels to be alone... None understands... except Rajkunwari-sa. Moti's eyes filled with tears. She perhaps fathomed the reason behind the tears of the princess. She knows her wait for Vijay will end one day, and he will come back... still her pains remain boundless. And here the princess... locked in a single room, waiting for no reason in front of an uncertain future... how is she living?
Moti gulped a little and tried to smile. "Everyone is waiting for you in the hall. Won't you come, Kunwari sa?
"Waiting for me? Jodha could not help but to smile. Does not she know how her position is slowly deteriorating in the family? She is never missed in any special function now. Perhaps after some years she will be treated as a burden... after that her shadow will be an omen for the family... But for now, everyone is expecting her presence. Perhaps it is due to the high fever from which she recently recovered, everyone trying to give her mental health priority, trying to make her feeling normal. After all, love of the family is not easily worn out by the marks of society!
"You go, I am coming. She said to Moti. "I have to dress up a little.
That was true, Moti thought. It was evident from Jodha's face that she has not adorned herself since days...perhaps right from the time of her illness. Jodha was already burning up in high temperature when she came back from Vrindavan to Amer. Witnessing her condition none could even ask them what actually happened in Vrindavan which forced them to come back early. Her condition only got worse after reaching Amer. She was completely unconscious for two days, and the physicians had surrendered in front of God. To God's grace, she recovered after a week, but the illness seems to leave a permanent mark on her face. Her face is pale, eyes are dull, lips are dry, smile is weak... whether from the physical weakness or emotional agony- who knows... But there is no shadow of the young gorgeous princess Jodha Bai in the weary woman standing in front of her... dressed in a plain white lahenga, no jewelleries, no kohl in eyes, no glace in cheeks... It seems a yogini has been imprisoned amidst the glow of royalty... Moti sighed.
"Come first, Kunwari Sa... She said and left.
Jodha sat in front of mirror and held the dagger in her hand. Her finger tips which were still coloured, touched the shinning blade and put a little colour on it. She smiled unmindfully. In this sacred festival of colour she has coloured the last sign of Chandrajeet that belongs to her. That is her celebration of spring, her celebration of love.
She kissed the dagger profoundly.
A low humming was floating in the air. Jodha closed her eyes and matched her lips with the beautiful tune...
"Mohe khabar kya iss duniya ki,
Main jogan hu aapni priya ki
Preet ki rang me rang gayi jabse
Bhaye mohe koyi rang na...
Celebration of Holi in Bhangarh fort is one of the most auspicious celebrations in the land of Rajputana. The sky, the air, the whole atmosphere sings in joy, the people celebrates together forgetting all the discriminations. The beautifully furnished roads and streets and the fort reflects the grace and prosperity of the king. And the whole responsibility of the celebration lies on the shoulder of prince Suryabhan in which he is very capable.
Today the celebration had already started. According to the custom prince Suryabhan has bathed in sacred water with others, applied colour on the feet of the idol and then on the feet of his parents to seek blessings, and right now was carefully supervising the arrangements of caravans for royal ladies for their visit in nearby temple along with enjoying the celebration. Suddenly a guard came and informed that someone wants to meet him.
"Tell him that I am busy. The prince had said.
"He insists, My Lord. The guard replied in a modest voice.
"Then tell him I won't be act according to his wish. He might leave. Suryabhan said in an annoyed voice.
"Pardon, my prince. The guard said. "He says you must meet him as it is the only way of saving the grace of you and your kingdom.
"Can you just... Suryabhan frowned most disgustedly. "Can you just drive him away? Who the hell is he?
"A messenger from Sonargarh, as he said, my lord. The guard told.
"Idiots! Now I have to act according to the wish of the messenger of Sonargarh! Having said this, Suryabhan's expression suddenly changed from vexation to excitement. "Wait... messenger of Sonargarh! Means... His eyes shined suddenly. "Tell him to wait. I am coming. I am coming as soon as possible!
The guard left, and Suryabhan Singh gasped in excitement. What news of storm did the messenger of Sonargarh has come with in this auspicious occasion of Spring?
Ufff Yeh Love Hai Mushkil
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