Nurjahan's Daughter (7 page)

'T
ell me the story about Abbajaan and the tigress.’ The night was warm and Firdaus sat fanning Laadli with a hand fan. The child was restless. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead and her muslin dress clung damply on her plump body.

‘Hush child, try to sleep. It is late.’

‘I can’t sleep. Tell me the story and I’ll go to sleep. Promise!’

With a deep sigh, the old nurse began narrating, ‘Your father is a very brave man. Did you know that he is the tallest man in the court and everyone has to look up to speak to him? And he can wield his sword more skilfully than anyone else in the kingdom. He is the best horse rider in town and he excels in falconry and polo.’

‘Even Ammijaan is very good in falconry and chaugan.’

‘I will tell you about your Ammijaan’s falcon. She called it Baaz Bahadur...’

‘No, no, I don’t want to hear about the falcon. I want to hear about the tigress,’ Laadli insisted.

‘Okay, then don’t interrupt me. Now, Prince Salim is a very impetuous person. He rarely thinks before acting. That is the reason Shehanshah Akbar appointed your father as the prince’s companion. Salim is very fond of hunting wild animals–he loves capturing them and keeping them in his palace. In fact, he owns an impressive menagerie.’

‘Does he keep tigers in cages? Isn’t it cruel to cage wild animals?’ asked Laadli with concern. She loved animals and couldn’t bear to see them locked up.

‘No one can say that to a prince. Once the prince was hunting at Nagaur. It is a dense forest near Ajmer. A royal camp was set up on the fringes of the forest so that the trackers and soldiers could herd the wild animals into a specified area.’

‘But why do they do that?’

‘It is a classic Mughal hunting style called Qamargah,’ explained Firdaus. ‘One day, while the royal entourage camped in the forest, Salim rode off with a couple of soldiers. As they were going through the jungle, he noticed a few tiger cubs frolicking behind a rock. The tigress had wandered off in search of food leaving the cubs unattended. The gold-flecked eyes of the cubs attracted the tawny ones of the prince. Fascinated, Salim, dismounted from his steed and bent to caress the cubs, despite being warned not to by his attendants. He decided to take one of them back with him to the palace.’

‘It is not right to separate the cubs from the mother!’ said Laadli, who had a strong opinion about what was right and wrong. ‘I would be very unhappy if someone were to take me away from Ammijaan.’

‘That’s true, but as I said, no one can tell a prince that. The prince was picking up a cub when the tigress returned. She was incensed at the sight of her cub in his hand. Before the prince could react, she bared her claws and sprang at him. Salim’s attendants were too frightened to come to his aid. It was at that moment that your Abbajaan appeared. He lunged at the tigress with a dagger in his hand and thrust it deep into the animal. Everyone thought he would die but he managed to kill the tigress.’

‘Was Abbajaan hurt very badly? Was he in great pain?’ asked Laadli anxiously, although she knew the story by heart.

‘Of course he was. You can’t fight a tigress without getting hurt. He was badly mauled by the tigress, but he is a brave man. He didn’t flinch or think of his own safety when he saw that the prince was in danger. Your Abbajaan stood up lurching like a drunken man. He was bleeding heavily from his wounds and then he fell unconscious. They did not expect him to live, but he is a stubborn man. He fought death like he fights his enemies. It took several weeks for the royal hakim to put him back on his feet. Upon hearing about the bravery of your father, Emperor Akbar granted him the jagir of Burdwan, raised his mansab to a thousand and presented him with a royal ring, set with precious rubies.’

‘And so he is called Sher Afghan,’ continued Laadli.
‘We are pleased at your selfless act of bravery. You have saved the life of our beloved son. Name your reward and it shall be given to you,’
the girl mimicked the emperor, much to the amusement of her nurse.

‘Shahenshah Akbar was very grateful to your father. But your Abbajaan is not a greedy man. Already overwhelmed with the honour and the jagir given to him by the emperor, he did not ask for anything more.’

‘But when he saw Ammijaan he liked her so much that he begged the emperor’s permission to marry her.’

‘Yes. He had a glimpse of your mother when she was returning from the dargah of Shaikh Salim Chisti. I was with her at that time.’

‘Tell me about it. Please Firdaus,’ begged Laadli.

‘Shaikh Salim Chisti was a great saint. He had promised Emperor Akbar that he would have three sons who will survive till adulthood. The emperor had sought the blessings of the saint because none of his sons survived beyond a few weeks. When Prince Salim survived, the emperor constructed a dargah for the saint, as an expression of his gratitude. People believe that a wish made at his dargah is always fulfilled. Your Ammi also visited the dargah with a wish.’

‘What did she wish for?’

Firdaus did not tell the child that Meherunnisa had wished to be married to Prince Salim.

‘I wouldn’t know that, you will have to ask your mother. Maybe she wished for a beautiful daughter like you and Allah granted her the wish. Anyway, wishes are supposed to be kept a secret.’

‘Yes, I think she asked for me,’ stated the child seriously. ‘She keeps telling me that I am a child of many prayers.’

‘We had just finished praying at the dargah and were walking out towards our palanquin when your father dismounted near the dargah. Just then a gust of breeze blew away your mother’s veil. As she struggled with the veil to cover her face, the Quran she was carrying in her hand fell down. In the holy book, there was a peacock feather that your mother considered lucky. Prince Salim had gifted it to her and she never parted with it. The wind blew it away and she ran to grab it.’

‘Can Ammi run as fast as me?’

‘Of course not. Anyway, your father also ran behind the feather. It was a hilarious situation. All three of us were running after the feather, which kept eluding our grasp. Suddenly, the feather got entangled in a bush and both your mother and father reached out for it. At that moment, your father saw her face and fell in love with your mother. Perhaps destiny wanted the two of them to meet at the saint’s shrine. He followed our palanquin to Agra and rode up to Mirza Ghias Baig’s house.’

‘Did he enter the house and meet grandpa?’

‘No, it would not have been proper for him to enter the house or ask for your mother hand without the formalities that need to be observed. He approached the Khan-é-Khanan Abdur Rahim to take a marriage proposal for her to her father’s residence. The Khan-é-Khanan was a friend of your grandfather and a very important man at the emperor’s court. The old man was delighted that Sher Afghan had finally decided to marry. For a long time, the Khan-é-Khanan and his wife had been pestering him to get married. They had brought many proposals for him but he had refused all of them.’

‘He couldn’t have married anyone else,’ Laadli’s explanation was simple.

‘The Khan-é-Khanan broached the topic with your grandfather but no marriage could be conducted until the emperor gave his consent.’

‘Why?’

‘That is the Mughal emperor’s order. The marriages of all important people in the Mughal court have to be held only after they have been approved by the emperor.’

‘Did grandfather seek the emperor’s approval for the marriage?’

‘No, it was the Khan-é-Khanan who approached the emperor for his consent. He mentioned to the emperor that Sher Afghan wished to marry Mirza Ghias Baig’s daughter. The emperor was delighted because he was very fond of your Abbajaan as well as your grandfather. Besides, the two families came from Persia and there could have been no better match for the Mirza’s daughter. The emperor blessed their union and the two were married.’

‘Did Ammijaan see Abbajaan before the wedding?’

‘She had seen him briefly at the dargah.’

‘Did she like him?’

‘That is a question you will have to ask your mother,’ Firdaus evaded the child’s queries adroitly. She remembered the heartache Meherunnisa went through when she learnt that the emperor had given his sanction for her marriage to the Persian soldier. Salim and Meherunnisa were passionately in love with each other and the prince had vowed to marry her after his return from Mewar.

Very few people knew that the emperor had sent the prince away deliberately so that Meherunnisa’s marriage could be solemnised without any hindrance. The hot-tempered prince was not likely to give up his ladylove to another man easily. Emperor Akbar knew that the prince wanted to marry Meherunnisa. He also knew that the Persian faction in the harem wanted to see the prince married to her. His own queen, Bilquees Begum, had been instrumental in encouraging the romance. Salim was free to marry any woman he desired except Mirza Baig’s daughter. Sher Afghan had reminded the Shahenshah about his promised reward and the emperor could not refuse his request.

When Salim learnt about the wedding, he went on a rampage. A tremor travelled through Firdaus’ body as she remembered the prince’s cruelty.

‘You are not listening to me, Firdaus. I want you to describe the wedding. Did the emperor attend the ceremony?’ Laadli was tugging at her sleeve.

‘The wedding was a grand one and almost all the important people in town attended it. The emperor could not attend because he was away on a campaign, but his Persian wife, Queen Bilquees Begum, attended the wedding and gifted an expensive set of jewellery to your mother. She looked ravishing in her bridal dress of crimson brocade. The weavers at Benares had especially woven the veil and the best craftsmen of the town had spent weeks toiling over the bridal attire. It had tiny rubies and pearls embroidered into it. She was so beautiful that people could barely take their eyes off her face. No one in Agra had seen such a beautiful bride, I can vouch.’

‘And Abbajaan? Did he look dashing and handsome?’

‘Of course he did. There was not a man in Agra to match your Abba. He wore a white robe with fine zardosi embroidery on it, over a pair of tight satin trousers in the brightest of reds. His turban matched his robe and an ornate pin set with emeralds adorned its folds. When he rode into the house, the women exclaimed excitedly.’

‘And then they lived happily ever after...’ sang Laadli.

Hardly that,
thought the nurse. She knew how difficult it had been for Meherunnisa to adjust to the rough ways of the soldier. Used to the elegance and refinement of the palace, she found it hard to handle the demands of a husband who was more physical than intellectual. At every stage of her married life, the prince intruded into her thoughts. For many years she continued to pine for Salim and the grandeur of the royal harem.

Her frustration showed up in constant illnesses and numerous miscarriages. With her husband away on military campaigns for long periods of time, the woman was sentenced to a life of solitude. She spent many nights tossing on her empty bed, lonely and miserable, haunted by memories of her past romance. Those were tough times. Unhappy in her marriage, Meherunnisa lost much of her youthful exuberance, beauty and wit. She was a pale shadow of her former self, with dark circles under her eyes. As the days went by, she became careless about her appearance and clothes. Firdaus felt sorry for her, but there was little she could do to alleviate the situation.

There were so many stories and memories. Firdaus’ face creased with a gentle smile as she tucked Laadli into bed. Many of her fond memories were about Meherunnisa’s dalliance with the prince. There were few who knew as much as she did about their romance, but those stories were not for telling. Laadli would never learn of her mother’s love affair or the prince’s infatuation–at least not from her. Like most people connected with the Mughal court, Sher Afghan had also heard the rumours about Prince Salim’s infatuation for Meherunnisa, but he never discussed the subject with his wife. Perhaps he did not want confirmation of Meherunnisa’s feelings for another man.

The spectre of suspicion, however, clouded their relationship. Sher Afghan knew that the prince wore his heart on his sleeve. Salim’s love affairs were too numerous for anyone to keep count. Some of his infatuations lasted just a day, and some for a couple of weeks. Not many of his dalliances lasted long enough to cause any concern.

Of the many romantic affairs of the prince, the most tragic was the one between him and Anarkali. Everyone at Lahore knew about their romance and its disastrous end. Nadira was a servant in the royal harem. The girl was a graceful dancer and a skilled singer. One day, the empress commanded her to sing for Shehanshah Akbar. He was so captivated with her beauty and voice that he gave her the title Anarkali, meaning ‘bud of a pomegranate’.

Akbar fell prey to her beauty and made her his concubine. With her beauty and wit, the girl soon became his favourite concubine. There were many in the harem who were jealous of the emperor’s preference for her.

Anarkali was immensely talented and Akbar, who was a connoisseur of art, was delighted with her. She was a skilled miniaturist and often painted in the Lahore atelier.

It was the month of April, spring was in the air and Lahore was celebrating the festive occasion of Akhri Charshumba, the second month of the Islamic calendar. It was the day when the Prophet Mohammad recovered from his illness for the last time. The rituals began early in the morning with everyone bathing in perfumed water and dressing in new clothes. Sadquas, the offerings of all kinds of grains and pulses, were arranged in huge gold plates along with silver jowls full of mustard oil. The male members of the royal family touched the Sadqua and gazed at their reflection in the oil before placing gold coins in it. These were later distributed amongst the poor. After the harem women performed the rituals, everyone gathered for a sumptuous breakfast.

Surrounded by a bevy of giggling women in his grandmother’s palace, Salim gazed at his reflection in the oil. The faces of some women were also reflected in the bowl as they teased the prince. All of a sudden his eyes were attracted to a beautiful image. His eyes met those of Anarkali in the golden oil, and he was mesmerised. And that was the beginning of a passionate romance.