That was not the only moment to remember in an episode studded with them: Jalal burning Jodha's portrait, Bairam Khan self-destructing in a vortex of impotent rage and bitter ranting, Ruqaiya once again showing her mettle as a smooth, subtle intrigante. But it was clearly the high water mark of the evening, and a very high one at that.
Jalal and Bairam Khan: The way in which Jalal gets to know about the murder of Raja Takhatmal by Bairam Khan is itself an illustration of how fate plays into the hands of (wo)men, in this instance, Mahaam Anga. She is just thru with warning her blockhead of a son to keep his fingers out of l'affaire Takhatmal, and is looking around for a way to convey the fell news to Jalal without her fingerprints being all over it. And lo and behold, the ideal tool just drops into her lap, like manna from Heaven! Exactly as in the case of the blinding of Zaheer, when the hakim came in at just the right moment. Shaitan surely looks out for his own!
As Jalal listens to Takhatmal's soldier pouring his heart out, we can practically feel the rage rising in him like molten lava. The narrowed eyes have a manic glare. A hand clenches on the hilt of his sword and almost crushes it. Eventually, he stands up, and we see, with somewhat of a shock, that his face is smooth and inscrutable. The rage that was consuming him only minutes ago has disappeared without a trace, and as he leans back in his seat, the whole body is loose and relaxed. The change in the body language is as startling as it is eloquent. The Shahenshah has made up his mind, and he knows exactly what he has to do and how.
The scene that follows could have been scripted by a Renaissance dramatist. Jalal never once raises his voice, but his level tones have a force and a finality to them that none of Bairam Khan's high pitched rants can command. When Jalal effectively ignores him, and issues a stream of orders to rehabilitate the Takhatmal family, Bairam Khan seems to lose it totally. The crude putdowns of Jalal, and the self-glorification he indulges in reach their nadir when he derides the Emperor Humayun as totally ineffective. Which leads to Jalal making it clear to his former mentor, with unprecedented bluntness, that
(a) he is the Shahenshah,
(b) that Bairam Khan's right to issue orders, and his very title as the Wazir-e-Ala, were granted by him, Jalal, and
(c) that while he would never wage war against his Khan Baba, he would do so unhesitatingly against a rebel.
The final denouement seems scripted to sum up in itself the essence of the scene. As Bairam Khan is storming out of the Diwan-e-Khas, Jalal calls out Baba! Khan stops, hoping against hope for a reprieve, some shred of pride that he could perhaps salvage. There is none.
After Jalal has delivered his final warning - that he would fight to win, no matter what - he sweeps past Bairam Khan and exits, in effect preempting him. Immediately, all the courtiers stream after the Emperor, forming a double wave that flows past Bairam Khan as he stands, still and isolated, in the centre of the hall. It is as if all his vaunted powers were flowing out of him with that double wave, leaving him a hollow shell bereft of all but life.
The rest of the Bairam Khan track is noteworthy for only two points. One, that he seems still incapable of comprehending that his pupil is now a man, not a biddable boy. He attributes all of Jalal's actions in the Diwan-e-Khas to Mahaam Anga's tutoring and her tale-telling against himself. Truly is it said that there are none so blind as those that will not see!
The second is the entry of Akbar's second wife, at present Bairam Khan's bibi, the gentle, goodlookimg Begum Salima.
Jalal and Jodha: The two portraits: First things first. Suryabhan Singh is not going to be elected to the Lalit Kala Akademi any time soon. His likeness of Jodha makes her look as if she is coming down with an attack of mumps. It says much for the tender feelings she is evidently developing for him that she nonetheless looks at it with patent admiration😉.
The other one, Jalal's Jodha, a shamsheer-wielding tigress, is a passable likeness, but just about. However, seeing that Jalal seems to think that his very broad, generic descriptions of her eyes, her hair (why do poets ' and Jalal here - insist on describing the invariably black hair of Indian women as sunhere bal? It is a mystery) and her fierce expression would suffice for a portrait, one has to commend the skill, or perhaps the imagination of the lady artist in managing to produce something that is recognizable as Jodha.
She must also have been a remarkable woman to have been a travelling professional artist in the 16th century, a rarity anywhere in the world of those days.
It is revealing that her praise of Jodha's qualities of head and heart produces no reaction at all from Jalal, not even the slightest responsive gleam in his eyes. His response to her rather self-serving comment about Jodha's regard for artists is decidedly ironic Hum bhi kadardan kuch bure nahin hain '. fankar achcha hona chahiye.
Then comes the shocker. After barely casting a look at the finished portrait, and dismissing the artist, Jalal proceeds to burn the canvas with every evidence of fierce, lingering satisfaction. There are some things, he tells the mystified Abdul, that are made only for the pleasure of turning them into ashes. I thought back to his face earlier that day, as he looked at the payal that he had retrieved from the jewel case: it was not gentle with remembrance, but furrowed and taut with anger. It thus seemed to me that right now, the only emotions that Jodha evokes in his mind are a sense of humiliation, and anger, at having been held at sword point by her, a mere woman.
Other, gentler feelings will surely come, but that is far off as yet. What is there right now is a desire to dominate and tame her. Combined with the fact that on her side, the obsession is with getting his head on a platter, literally, the road to true love promises to be not just rocky, but strewn with boulders!
Ruqaiya: Watching Ruqaiya's near despair at not yet expecting a baby made me feel sad. Here is a very highborn, bright, capable and self-assured young woman, every inch a queen, and what does she crave for ? A son, who will ensure her primacy in her world and in her husband's regard. I can understand the vital need for an heir to an empire, but it is nonetheless depressing.
The whole Fatima story was very curious. It seems incredible that the son of a bonded woman can inherit the throne; it is in fact nonsense. The heir would have to be the son of a high born begum, not of a concubine. Nonetheless, it is evident that the arrival of a child, his first, would absorb Jalal so much that Ruqaiya's standing with him would slip. Whence her evident relief at the 3 month revelation, and Jalal's just as evident anger. It remains to be seen how this pans out, but for now, it is a candid take on the ground realities of life in a harem, even if an imperial one!
Shyamala B.Cowsik
Rules & Announcements
Cricket
364