Chapter 3: Part I Eyeing the Rajputana
Conquest of Lahore, Multan, Ajmer, and Gwalior followed Jalalud'din's succession to Delhi, and in the span of next two years the Moguls had strengthened their position in North India, besieging the inconquerable forts north of Narmada which were earlier in the strongholds of Suri rulers (Sikandar Shah Suri clan). Another two years and by 1569-1560 Malwa, Bihar, Gondwana were next to fall bringing major central India under the Mogul rule. Rajputana was still untouched, but the northern periphery of Rajputna covering Nagor, Mewat and Ajmer had already been annexed by Moguls.
Rajputana was to be dealt with care, and Jalal knew there was no hurry. He had to be fully prepared to meet the fury of Rajputs. It was the battle to be struck with wit, and not just a brute invasion. If dealt unruly, clash with Rajputana might incur thrice the more loss to Moguls, in terms of soldiers and resources. The undefeated streak of Moguls could be at stake and Jalal ud'din was not ready to take that stain on his name. It was for this reason that he kept his eyes on Rajpuatana but laid his hands off until he had strengthened his position in the entire northern, eastern and central India.
Six years had passed, twenty year old Jalalud'din was perhaps the youngest king of such a widespread reign, ever but his political wit as a ruler had blossomed to its full. The time was right for the invasion that had been haunting his dreams, all he needed was a plan, an opportunity to breach through the high thick walls of Rajputana that stood tall even against the roar of the mighty canons of the brute invaders.
He indeed had heard of them, may be just in stories, and singing ballads - Rajputana, the land of people who bask in colors and sing the valour of their soldiers in folkores. Rajputs, the men of their words who smear their forehead with vermillion and wear the swords as their pride, who strike their enemy in the battlefield as a dance of death, who leave their fort with the garlands of basil around their neck and hail the name of their deities so loud and thunderous, embrace death, never retreat. The clan where women are respected as goddesses, raised and taught equal to men, who enter burning pyres if their men fell in battles letting no enemy seize their sanctity..fierce yet moral, brave yet kind, loyal yet proud- true sons and daughter of their motherland.
The stories had always thrilled him, the folklores always made him wonder that despite being this valorsome, they never grew their territory. They are just a group of smaller kingdoms, they never invade, never attack, just defend their own piece of kingdom. If united they could be a force to reckon with, but divided each kingdom stands alone with its entire world in the premises of one fort, which are next to impossible to seize.
Engrossed in his thoughts, Jalal was looking at the terrains of Rajputana when Abdul entered his tent.
Abdul: The word has been sent my king. The royal family and begums will leave for Agra from Kabul under the secure and watchful eyes of Mirza Hakim. No worries, the journey will be safe. Arrangements have been made at the fort of Agra and western wing has been transformed into palace of royal begums as per your command..
Jalal: Good..How is Khan baba?
Abdul: I wouldn't say well..I don't see him getting better..Medicines don't seem to be working. He has asked me to request you my king- his wish to visit Mecca.
Jalal: He is too weak to journey. Tell him...
Abdul (interrupting Jalal, sadly): I think you should grant him the wish.
Jalal turned to meet Abdul's gaze and sensed the restlessness and grief.
Jalal (sighed and shook his head in affirmation): Make sure he is in best hands. He should be well taken care of during the journey Abdul.
Abdul: Should I make arrangements for you too, to leave for Agra?
Jalal (sternly): What for?
Abdul: You haven't seen them in five years. Mariam Makani has been sending letters, you haven't sent even one reply. Don't you miss them my king.
Jalal (sensing the concern in Abdul's tone, changed the topic): Let the lieutenants know. I need them here first thing tomorrow morning with all the details of our position in the outskirts of Rajputana. You be here too Abdul. For now, have a sound sleep, my friend.
Abdul nodded and left with a heavy heart. He knew there was no point arguing. One often pushes away the thing, one needs the most. Call it an art of survival, a measure to escape reality. All his life, Jalalud'din had been subduing his pain. In an urge to conquer his pains he had himself silenced the sobbing younger self to such an extent that after all this time he can not hear his own heart thudding. The hardships of war, the betrayals of his uncles, helpless mother sowed the seeds of anger and hatred so deep, that all he is now, is the fruit of apathy.
But there is always hope, and no matter what Abdul believed that a day would come when his friend's heart would find the warmth he had been looking for all his life. A companion would find her way into the closed cold closets of Jalal's heart, a whirlwind will knock his breath out and his heart would beat so fast that the ignorant man would come to know what love does to you. And how so much he would want to shake her off, she would cling to his breath like the essence of rose for life and lives to come. Then perhaps my friend would know what is there to miss...Amen!
(Little did Abdul know that his prayers were to be answered soon, very soon)
Chapter 3: Part II A- Damn Abdul! His prayers got answered "The first meet"
Abdul had left leaving behind the wailing question for Jalal-Don't you miss them, my king? What to miss when he hadn't even felt what it is to be with the family. Families protect but his family either abandoned him or plotted treacherous plans to get him killed. His mother had been too distant, his relatives wished him dead, being under the kingship of a twenty year old was unbearable for most of his ministers. Being inhumanely strong and brute in his decisions was never an option for him, it was necessary to keep the conspiracies under check. He had to be too feared for anyone to even dream to dare to act against his verdicts. And yet every now and then he had to march to curb the atrocities of his mansabdars (governors of the regions under Mogul rule), to refresh their memories that he was the king of empire, like or not. His begums, oh yeah, Ruqaiyya sultan, the first of all, she is quite a friend more than a wife, but too busy being the begum of king than wife to a husband. He hasn't ever felt what it means to have someone one could truly connect to, one who could understand what is brewing within even if you don't say a word. All he has come across is hate, anger, prisoners of wars, their wailing families who despise him, people who fear him.
He was sure hate is a real thing, and this love thing that makes you miss something definitely belongs to stories. Though he would admit, he was fond of listening to stories, cultures, landscapes, histories- and for this he was fond of Abdul and Khan baba.
Jalal (laid back on his bed): Silly Abdul.
In no time he dozed off, keeping in mind that he has to go visit khan baba the next day to check up on his health. He has been sick for long. The continuous battles and governance have had a toll on his health. He soon might have to take over all the responsibilities from him. Is he ready for that?
It had just been four hours, the sun was yet to come in couple of hours, but Jalal woke up. He felt a gush of restlessness, may be some nightmare. He cursed and left the bed disappointed. Not having a peaceful sleep was quite common for him, but he wished atleast his mind doesn't have to be his foe. He came out his tent. It was the darkest couple of hours before the sun but the moon lit shiny. He was in a plain white dress. The night was too silent all he could hear were the shreak of night creatures and hooting owls.
Suddenly he heard faint gallops of horses. Focusing himself in the direction of the sound, he looked from the top of the hill down in the jungle and saw four riders riding horses at an unimaginably fast speed. One of the four was amazingly fast and from the top it seemed as if the remaining three were trying to catch hold of him. The fastest one made a swift move, dodging the other three and took an unnoticeable turn. Jalal could see him from the top hill that the turn leaded to the borderline of Amer (part of Rajputana) and Nagaur (under Mogul dominance). The thought that someone was trying to breach the Mogul area in the dark hours of night left Jalal disturbed. Who was the one who took the turn? why the other three were following him? Was the first rider on run? The whirlwind of questions overwhelmed and there was just one way to find out.
Jalal took his sword from his tent and whistled aloud. In a minute his horse the mighty dark stallion "Sultan was next to him. Leaving the asleep batallion behind he vanished in the dark of night galloping towards the path treaded by the first rider. Riding in the forest he could see the trail left behind by horses' feet. It was not very long, when he heard the galloping horse a few distance away from him. Sensing someone following, the rider spirited his horse and gave his speed a massive thrust. Jalal was amazed, he had never seen his sultan struggling for pace to beat any other horse. He patted Sultan to speed up, but realized that it would be much better if he blocked the rider's path other way around. Jalal took a steep turn. Sudden disappearance of the follower left the rider off guard, and just when he looked back, Jalal blocked his path coming afront.
The riders horse came to an abrupt halt sensing an obstacle at front and knocked the rider off his back.
Jalal came down his horse with his hands on the hilt of his sword. The fallen rider was absolutely alert seeing a foreigner (Jalal) infront of him. It was quite dark, but under the moonlit sky, Jalal could see that the rider looked like a teen boy, in a Rajput attire loosely covering his body. Turban was wrapped over his head, covering his entire face except his eyes, his very alert eyes. He wouldnt call such a boy a warrior, but his riding skills held no bounds. He was definitely a spy, thought Jalal. A sword hung from the side of his waist and the moment he had fallen his hands were on the hilt.
Jalal (marching forward): Drop the weapon and no one gets hurt here.
The rider stood silent holding his grounds.
Jalal: I said drop the sword and reveal your identity?
The rider didn't seem affected by the approaching jalal, instead he took the sword off its cover and balanced himself on his heel in a complete warrior pose.
Jalal (amused): You wanna reveal the truth the hard way.
Jalal smirked and held his ground waiting for the strike.
The rider sprung a circle and struck at Jalal plunging the force of entire momentum in his blow. Jalal defended, but the blow was quite hard than he had expected, it pushed him a step back. Jalal realised that he was making use of his gait and swag to compromise for the loss of manly weight-so typical rajput style of combat.
Jalal (bemused): Impressive. Go again.
Jalal could feel the rider was up for the challenge. On Jalal's call, he rolled his sword in his wrist like a pro and waged a full fletched attack on Jalal. Jalal escaped the left hook, blocked the right, in no time the witty rider unloaded another sword form the back of his attire and a clean left sweep of the sword left Jalal off guard. To avoid a cut, Jalal leaped back, but the riders sword had touched him at the chest and a small smear of blood appeared on his chest. Jalal couldn't contain his amusement, the teen was an amazing swordsman, any fool who would underestimate his potential looking at his physique would sure be dead.
Jalal (smilimg cockily): Huhh.. not bad for someone who's just a tender teen. Thats all you got boy..
The remark was not welcomed and again the rider swayed his both swords and attcked Jalal with all his might. Jalal blocked both his swords crossed over his head, and the rider again surprised him giving a strong blow on his chest with his leg, pushing Jalal back.
But closing the distance Jalal swirled in a swift motion, blocked teen's right sword, and split his left sword in half using the power of his grip. A strong right elbow jab from Jalal knocked the breath out of the teen's lung and he fell back with a thud on ground defenseless.
Jalal swiftly moved ahead to pull up the fallen teen, but now it was Jalal's time to skip both a breath and a beat..
The turban had fallen off the teen's head and long curly tresses were flowing in the wind like the waves on the eve of high tide. She was a woman. Jalal was stuck on the spot, with no words, no breath, no beat.
The blow was so hard that it took a minute for her to compose herself and then she turned to look at his opponent, while still being on ground.
What jalal saw was beyond description, she was the most beautiful earthling he had come across or may be she was a celestial nymph. The doe shaped eyes were brown with a hue of molten gold, her slightly elevated plush pink cheeks, her slender nose had a diamond ring that shone like a twinkling star in the light of moon. Her lips, pink like the freshly dewed petals of a tender rose, and there he could see a deep deep cut, she had just suffered from his jab. The blood drop was oozing out of the cut. She wiped it off and in the process smeared her lip deep red.
The cut brought him back to his senses, and he squirmed in unease wishing he could chop his hands off. How dare they touch her like a brute. Not able to withstand her dizzy state Jalal lowered his gaze.
Jalal (looking down): I apologise. .I didn't know or else I wouldn't have...
She was taken aback at the apology, she wasn't expecting any. She got up on her feet but was still dazed by the blow. Trying to keep her balance, she reached her horse, and took a gulp of water from the silver slim container hung there.
But before she could gain her composure back, rustling of the leaves, left both her and Jalal alert. They were nomore alone. Jalal could feel pair of footsteps approaching them. Wait, not just a pair, there were more. He cursed and for the first time in his entire life he felt a shiver, not for him, but for someone else. For the first time ever, he felt concerned, and for the first time ever he was ready for the kill, not for him, but for someone else. For the first time ever, he felt the urge, to save someone than to destroy.
Part II-B
Jalal picked up the sword that had fallen out of her grip during the combat and forwarded it back to her.
Jalal: You might need it. (In an emphasizing tone) Stay right here. Dare not move with that dizzy head.
The girl still dazed gathered her senses, grabbed the sword and spanned the surrounding assessing the situation with a spinning vision.
In moments, fleet of fifteen men came out in front, ravishing the thick weeds and dense cover of forest. A relief washed over Jalal, they were Mogul soldiers. But in the very next moment Jalal realised they didn't recognise him. He was in a simple attire and the sun hadn't risen yet. He was about to address the soldiers as their king, suddenly the thought of the rajput girl standing behind got him tongue-tied. How much Rajputs despise Moguls was already known to Jalal. He decided to stay quiet. Suddenly one amongst the soldiers yelled at him:
Chief Soldier: Who are you?
Jalal stayed quiet. The girl moved to have a better picture of the situation as Jalal's towering built was blocking her plain sight.
The other soldier noticed that there was someone else standing distant to the intruder (Jalal) and the attire was that of a rajput.
Sensing the movement behind Jalal cursed, why she had to move?
Second soldier: Wait! They are two, other one looks like a Rajput.
The moment the chief soldier zeroed on the other intruder at the back, his eyes got widened.
Chief Soldier: (To other soldier while oggling the girl behind) Do you see what I see? She is a woman, and Oh god I haven't seen a beauty like her.
The word was out his mouth and Jalal's fury boiled his blood, and a devilish fire inflammed his eyes. He barely managed to contain himself, the deathly grip on the hilt of his sword cut past his palm, and a drop of blood dripped off the finger.
He stayed quiet.
Chief Soldier: (yelling in ecstacy) We take her to master Shariffudin. He will weigh us in gold for her.
Hearing him, the girl fumed at the insult. She silently moved her dagger out of her waist band to silence the creep forever and heard him yelling again.
Chief soldier: (In a creepy lust laden tone) But first bring her to me. Let me have an eyefull glimpse of her before...
Before he could complete his sentence, Jalal's knife left its destination and penetrated the centre of his forehead.
The chief soldier fell dead with a thud. The girl was awestruck, the knife must have moved with a speed of lightening.Who was he afterall?she wondered.
The soldiers gasped at the sudden quick death of their chief and ran towards Jalal for the kill. What followed was a massacre she had never seen before.
Mutilated soldiers lay dead in just a flash of moment. Jalal's sword dripped with blood. A sense of grief flashed his face, he had killed his own soldiers.
Still amazed by the intensity of event that had just passed, she move past the corpses and came in front. She looked at the man who was fighting with her a hour back, the same man who plunged into the fight that she was supposed to face, who poked life out of all those who tried to harm her. She looked at Jalal absolutely confused.
Jalal (looking back at her): I didn't mean to kill them (grief evident on his face). They were...
Her: "Moguls. It was the first time she had spoken since their encounter.
Her: They were Moguls (with a despise laden tone). They would have killed us if you hadn't.
Jalal could sense the sheer disgust she had in her tone.
Her: The Mogul soldiers stationed at Nagaur, Malwa and other provinces of Mogul dominion raid the border villages of Rajputana. Everytime they sweep past its like a killing spree, they rob the villagers for grains, money, jewels, enslave them, destroy our temples, shrines, kill young - old alike, honor, life, everything at stake.
Jalal could feel her voice shaking in agony and anger.
Her: Those brute and cruel Mogul mansabdars of Nagaur and Malwa, Shariffudin and Adham Khan have created havoc since their succession here. These men like their masters have no dignity. They show no mercy, so why feel remorse for their death.
You call them soldiers? They aren't soldiers, they are just mercenaries, soldiers fight for a purpose, for protection of their people. I wonder if these petty mansabdars of these provinces are so vicious, cruel and brute. What would their 20 year old pig-head king be like? Afterall subjects reflect the nature of their masters,don't they??. I so hate them.
You did the right thing, don't feel bad.
Jalal could see the pained features, a strange mix of agony and anger was quite evident in her beautiful sparking eyes.
What he heard was strange, he indeed has been waging war since past six years, his soldiers are one of the most trained and brute in their art of battle, but he has always lived by the rules and so has his army. He never lays hands on Prisoners of wars,women, kids or olds; never destroys the city or its people; what is she talking about loots and destruction? But, what he saw just now was quite a proof that she was right. He just saw them trying to abduct a women for Sharifuddin, one of his mansabdar. He had also been hearing similar news from Malwa. What if this is true? What if he has been so busy in enhancing the range of his reign that he hasn't given any thought on his reign. What if his ministers were misusing their powers under his name.
The thought and the hatred emmanating from her left him restless.
Seeing him quiet, she looked back at him.
Her: Are you hurt? Blood is dripping off your palm.
Jalal was still consumed in his thoughts analyzing what she had just said.
Hearing no reply, she removed the sword from his grip and held his wrist upfront. The injury was from markings of the hilt, when he had pressed it too hard to contain his anger at the chief soldier.
She tweeted in a bird like voice and the next moment her horse was beside her, She washed the blood from the injury off his palm and offered him water.
Jalal was amazed at the gesture. The girl was in combat with him moments ago and now she was cleaning his wound Something warm melted inside his heart. Being in so close vicinity, he studied her features again more closely, she was the epitome of beauty in all respect. Suddenly a shiver ran down Jalal's spine when she swiped her fingers across jalal's palm, pat dried the blood stain with a piece of cloth and tied the cloth around his palm. Getting conscious of Jalal's piercing gaze she lifted her face up, and underneath those thick long eye-lashes, her beautiful kohl laden eyes met jalal's stare. Jalal could see her pupil dilated for a moment and her petal like tender lips dried in anticipation. The cut on her lip was glistening like a dew drop on a freshly bloomed petal.
Jalal couldn't stop himself and glazed his thumb on the cut of her lip,an unfamiliar pain sweeped across his heart.
Jalal: "I'm so sorry, does it hurt?A tint of pink glazed her cheek and in a flash she retreated few steps back.
Her: (In a frail voice, looking down) No it doesn't.
Jalal smiled, perhaps he was not the only one getting affected here from their close proximity.
She managed to look up again, distant this time and asked,
"Who are you?
Jalal: Aaa... I'm,,,I'm a horse trader.
She laughed with a sudden outburst, "What? They train their traders like assassins, where you belong from??
Her laugh tinkled like a temple's bell in his ears
Jalal (all flushed up, seeing his lie caught, stammered): I...I'm..!!
Her: Its okay, you don't have to tell me, if you don't wish to. I understand. Although, you do have an amazing horse, what a pretty beautiful strong stallion..
She moved towards sultan and gave him a featherlight touch on his back and underneath his eyes. Jalal moved to stop her, given sultan doesn't like being touched by anyone other than him. But the amazement followed next, when sultan willingly gave in and bowed to her touch.
Jalal: Well! you too have perhaps the fastest horse, I've ever come across. Even my sultan couldn't catch hold of him.
Her: (Smiling) Yeah, he is my beloved Badal.
Jalal: So who are you? What you were doing in the forest at this late hour? Who were the other three riders chasing you down?
Her: Well! I'm Jodha. Those three were my brothers. With the orders of our king, they move past across the borders every morning to make sure the guards at borders are in place and alert. I just happen to wake up early and they agreed (after much convincing) to take me along for a ride. I thought to scare them, took a sharp turn but then out of nowhere you happened.
Jalal: Yeah! I looked from the top of the hill and thought some fellas were chasing some..
Jodha (laughing heartily): What? Some dacoit, spy?
Jalal: (smiling) But I must admit you've an excellent riding and combat skills. I wouldn't have ever believed that...
Jodha: What? That you were fighting a woman...we teach our boys and girls alike (she smiled).
Jalal: Yeah ofcourse, "Rajputs the clan of mighty men and fiery women.
Jodha smiled sensing the true admiration in his eyes for her clan.
Suddenly she heard a faint calling..someone was calling out her name from distance. She knew they must be her brothers looking for her...
Jalal could hear the call as well..
Jodha: I must leave, they are looking for me.
For an instance Jalal didn't want her to leave. He lingered and then out of blue asked her,
"Would you ever wish to meet me again?
The honesty and sincerity in his voice touched her heart.
Jodha: Yes! Would you?
Jalal: Please don't ask. I might not let you go.
Jodha (with a frail smile): I haven't felt like this ever. Thankyou for saving my life.
Jalal: Oh Please! A warrior like you doesn't need a saving. What I thought I was saving, was my life.
Jodha's eyes misted, the conversation was making it hard to leave. She was amazed at the audacity of the stranger. She had just met him a hour ago, was feeling something that she had never felt for anyone.
Jalal: (Restless) Listen, Jodha! You must know who I am, I'm...
Jodha (stopped him midway): No, don't tell me who you are. If we are destined, we shall meet again and if we didn't, I would cherish this moment as the most perfect, precious and specialsome moment of my life. This memory shall stay untainted in my heart forever.
Jodha rode her horse in one leap and looked back at Jalal to bid a final goodbye.
Jalal: (with a content smile) Do not forget to get that cut treated, or it will leave a mark on your lip. And I'm quite sure you wouldnt want to be called "Marked".
Jodha (a shy smile crept on her face) Who knows, I might want to keep the mark. You better get your chest wound treated.
Jalal: Oh please! Believe me I would love to stay "marked".
A broad smile on Jodha's face spread content in Jalal's whole existence.
Jalal: (waved) until we meet again..
Jodha left galloping in the redness of the rising sun. His heart ached with some unwavery nagging sense of pain while watching her fade away from his sight.
He knew the moment had changed him, and she perhaps ruined him forever, leaving him no good for anyone anymore but only her...
P.S: Pls let me know how do you like the story..suggestions and comments are heartily welcomed. Drop the draft a like, if you feel it met the expectations of Jodha Akbar fandom..
Thanks
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Edited by sm1308 - 5 years ago
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