Frontiers

by Medha Deshmukh Bhaskaran

  ‘Where is Hiroji?’ Kunwar wants to know.

  ‘Must be looking after the guests,’ the medic replies, his eyes fixed on his patient.

  ‘I shall wait,’ Kunwar says as a sob chokes his throat. Surprisingly, Sambhaji quietly stares at his father’s face covered with cold compress. The boy for some reason looks puzzled.

  ‘Kavindra and his men will come to your home. You must go and help them to take the palanquins, elephants and horses kept in your backyard donated to him by Raja Shivaji,’ the medic informs Kunwar Singh. ‘You may come back here later if you please.’

  Kunwar nods and asks Sambhaji to come along. His Rajputs deployed to keep a watch on Raja Shivaji are sitting in the courtyard, some of them smoking. They quickly extinguish their chillums and stand up to bow. Kunwar hardly notices them; his heart is heavy with grief.

  Unknown to the world, under the patient’s bed, skinny and dark-skinned Naik, the master of guise and make-up, crouches in a foetal position with a makeup box, containing jars filled with coloured powders, tongs, shaving blades, false beards and more.

  Kunwar rides home with Sambhaji in a palanquin, thinking about the very fair Brahmin standing next to Raja Shivaji. He looked so familiar! Kunwar is sure he has seen the man before.

  Where?

  6

  Kavindra’s entourage, consisting of his disciples, a few Brahmins from Agra, along with a palanquin, elephants and horses, exits Agra from the west and moves towards Fatehpur Sikri. They cover a few kos and camp a little away from the main road. In the dark of the night, a few Brahmins change their attire and become cavalrymen. They mount the horses and ride on south, bypassing Agra. One of the cavalrymen is Shivaji. As they ride on, Shivaji thinks of the past months of planning and of feigning illness, and how Kavindra planned today’s yagna rituals when Aurangzeb was away from Agra on a hunting expedition. When the emperor is away, even the security at the city’s gates is slack. That is why no one asked the questions they should have asked while the entourage exited. Shivaji smiles at how Fulad’s men feasted on milk desert rich with crushed poppy seeds. The impact was immediate. At the check posts around the sarai, most of them were a bit intoxicated.

  Niraji Raoji, Hiroji Farzad and the medic have been left behind. Niraji and Hiroji will impersonate him alternatively while the medic will sit by their side with a grave face. The drama must go on.

  As they ride on, Shivaji turns back to take a last look at Agra. In the pale moonlight, the domes and minarets washed clean by the rains gleam zestfully. Somewhere in there his Shambhu sleeps peacefully thinking that his father is around to save him in case of any eventuality. That thought wrenches Shivaji’s heart, but Shambhu had to stay to create the illusion of his father being there. There is no guarantee that Shivaji will ever see his son again. It is a dangerous strategy, but for the sake of swaraj . . . and swaraj comes first, before anyone Shivaji loves more than his life, but swaraj needs him. If this was not done, he and Shambhu had to, in any case, die a horrific death. Also, Shambhu is too young to withstand the rough, non-stop journey that lies ahead like a death trap. There was also a greater chance of arousing suspicion if he had taken Shambhu along. Shivaji hopes fervently that one day Shambhu will understand his father’s actions. Shivaji just hopes against hope.

  But if Aurangzeb suspects that they have left Shambhu behind, he will do anything to find the boy. What will happen then? So Aurangzeb must think Shambhu is with his father and have died on the way.

  Another strategy starts forming in Shivaji’s mind.

  Now everything depends on when Aurangzeb discovers the truth—how many days and nights Shivaji gets as leverage to move away from Agra. More the days, better the hope of escape to Rajgad, which is a journey of about five hundred kos through dense forests, rivers, hills and mountain tracks.

  Two days later, Aurangzeb arrives at Agra Fort from his hunting expedition from the borders of Gujarat after killing two lions. He is of the opinion that when an emperor kills a lion, it is a good omen. He also likes to count and measure their claws and keep records to boast about it later. What he will never talk about is the amount of opium emptied into the throat of the ass used as bait, and the fact that the lion that devoured the poor animal was already sleepy and weak. He also does not tell people a huntsman’s secret that it is much easier to kill a lion than a tiger. What he tells them is that the lions are more dangerous than the tigers because when a tiger jumps on you it is not a devastating blow but when a lion holds you in his mouth, the animal shakes you like a rag doll, with his claws embedded in your flesh.

  Courtiers tell their emperor about what took place in Raja Shivaji’s sarai, but the emperor just smiles mysteriously.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  1

  Three weeks have passed after the yagna, and for everyone in Agra, Shivaji seems still alive, but still sinking. Kunwar Ram Singh and Sambhaji visit regularly. Sambhaji is sad; his abba sahib seems to have changed, and has stopped talking to him and even looking at him. Even his voice is feeble and the words so incomprehensible.

  Fulad comes every hour during the day as well as night. He senses that the end is near and has started praying for his ward.

  In the citadel of Agra, a sombre Jahanara has come to Musamman Burj in the evening. She always does—to look at the marble mausoleum where her parents’ remains are buried gradually fading into the night. None of her other brothers would have or could have treated their father the way Aurangzeb has. White serpent is what she calls Aurangzeb—white because he portrays such a pure, fair and God-fearing personality that hides his venomous character.

  She glances at the gradually darkening sky that is getting darker, but her mind is somewhere else.

  ‘Shahzaadi, there is some news,’ she hears her personal eunuch, Chameli, speak to her, panting, his eyes dilated in fear.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘The white serpent has decided to send the man from the Deccan to Rad Andaz’s palace tomorrow.’

  Jahanara swings into action. There is a mysterious smile on her face. She has to inform Kunwar.

  After getting the news, Kunwar visits the sarai at once and tells the comatose Raja Shivaji about Aurangzeb’s order while the medic, Trimbak Dabir, Hiroji Farzad and Raghunath stand solemnly near the bed. The skinny, dark man stands behind the medic with an expressionless face. Niraji Raoji is nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Where is Niraji Raoji?’ Kunwar asks. He has not seen the Brahmin since three weeks.

  ‘He is always roaming the forests in fond hope of finding some life-saving herbs and returns very late in the night,’ the medic says, trying to suppress a sob.

  ‘I shall pick up Raja Sambhaji from your house. The boy must be with his father now,’ Raghunath says, his voice heavy.

  2

  Fulad Khan had gone to meet Rad Andaz Khan to discuss the time when he could bring Shivaji to Rad Andaz’s palace. When he returns, someone informs him that Niraji Raoji and the medic have left the sarai. Raghunath had left earlier.

  Fulad asks, ‘Who is with Raja Shivaji?’

  ‘When I last visited him, he was sleeping, all wrapped up in a sheet. We have been guarding the door ever since,’ someone rattles.

  ‘Hiroji Farzad went out just a few minutes ago,’ one of Fulad’s men minding the last check post informs him.

  ‘You did not stop him?’

  His men are puzzled. Other than Raja Shivaji, everyone was free to enter and exit.

  A shocking thought crosses Fulad’s mind. Raja Shivaji must have died and his men must have left fearing for their own life. He runs towards the sarai followed by a train of policemen. Kunwar’s Rajput guards are chatting away in the courtyard.

  Something is not right.

  Fulad runs to the sick man’s chamber and kicks open the door.

  What he sees stops his heart.

  The room is empty—stark empty. Just an hour ago when he had visited this place, the patient was on his bed, with others hovering around him. W
here is his ward? Fulad runs like a mad man around the empty room, prostrating on the ground and looking below the bed, banging the wall and stamping the floor. Finally he kneels, covers his face with his hands and lets out a hoarse cry. His life is over, his job is gone; perhaps he, instead of Raja Shivaji, will be sent to Rad Andaz Khan’s new facility as their first guest!

  In that moment of shock, something nags him. He does not remember having seen Niraji Raoji when he visited the room an hour ago. In fact none of them have seen Niraji Raoji for a while, but his man had seen Niraji leaving the sarai. Something has gone wrong, terribly wrong!

  Fulad does not announce the disappearance of Raja Shivaji for a long time; he has lost his nerve.

  When Kunwar comes home from his palace duty, he is informed that Raghunath has taken Sambhaji away. That night, Sambhaji does not come home. Kunwar finds this strange. For some reason he cannot sleep that night and keeps getting an ominous feeling of impending doom. It is then, while twisting and turning on his bed, that he remembers where he had seen the Brahmin who was standing next to Raja Shivaji the day when the yagna was performed. His heart starts racing. That Brahmin looked like Raja Shivaji . . . No! He was indeed Raja Shivaji! Who was the sick man sitting on the sedan chair then? Was he Niraji Raoji? But he had seen Niraji in Raja Shivaji’s chamber thereafter, but then Hiroji was missing. Were they taking turns impersonating Raja Shivaji?

  This means Raja Shivaji had escaped a few weeks ago! Three weeks to be precise.

  3

  Next morning, when Aurangzeb enters the courtyard of Agra Fort to go to his private office at the edge of the zenana quarters he feels the eerie silence, with everyone kneeling with grim faces as if a disaster has struck the empire. To his surprise, he notices the police chief of Agra, Fulad Khan, kneeling along with his slaves.

  ‘What is the matter?’ he asks Fulad.

  ‘Raja Shivaji is gone.’ The police chief is on the verge of crying, his voice cracking with fear.

  ‘Is he dead?’ Aurangzeb feels somewhat sad; he wanted Shiva to suffer at the hands of Rad Andaz. He is also puzzled. Why is his police chief so upset over the death of Shiva Bhosale?

  ‘No, he is not dead, he has disappeared.’ Fulad is sobbing, his dark face darker in grief and guilt.

  Aurangzeb thinks, Today they were supposed to send Shiva to Rad Andaz Khan’s palace and he was supposed to disappear forever. He has still not caught on when eunuch Mutamad comes running from the entrance of the private palace, bows deep and then whispers something in his master’s ears.

  ‘How?’ Aurangzeb screams at Fulad.

  Fulad gets up. He is shaking, but he manages to utter, ‘Raja Shivaji was in his room, I had visited it just one hour earlier, but he vanished all of a sudden from my sight, he either flew into the sky or went into the earth. He knows witchcraft.’

  Yes, right! Aurangzeb thinks and walks towards his private offices, asking Mutamad to call all the mansabdars from Agra and Dilli. They must go on a massive manhunt, but before that he needs to know the story in detail from Kunwar Ram Singh and Fulad Khan.

  Till midnight the men go through the chronology of the event as it happened. Aurangzeb asks many questions about the yagna ceremony and what happened thereafter. He also asks them to draw sketches of check posts around the sarai.

  Kunwar tells him everything but keeps quiet about the fair Brahmin who looked like Raja Shivaji.

  ‘Where is Shiva’s son?’ Aurangzeb questions Kunwar.

  ‘He was with me till yesterday. He was taken by one of Raja Shivaji’s men in the evening and he has not returned yet.’ Kunwar quivers with fright.

  ‘And he will never return,’ Aurangzeb comments drily.

  ‘Did any of you ever touch Shiva’s forehead to see if he had fever?’ Aurangzeb asks narrowing his eyes.

  The men cast their eyes down.

  ‘Did anyone see his face or talk to him in the last three to four weeks?’

  ‘He was too sick to talk,’ they tell him.

  ‘Were you sure that the man sleeping on the bed was Shiva Bhosale when, as you say, he used to always cover his face with sheets and cold compresses?’ he questions Fulad in particular.

  Fulad does not look up.

  ‘Have you seen Hiroji Farzad and Niraji Raoji together recently?’

  The men just look on.

  ‘I have heard that Shiva Bhosale had a skinny and dark-skinned man with him. He must have been Naik, the master of disguise,’ Aurangzeb comments wryly.

  ‘Raja Shivaji and his son might have hidden himself in one of the sweetmeat boxes,’ Jaffar Khan offers explanations. Hearing this, Aurangzeb’s mind explodes. How can his wazir-e-azam be such a dimwit?

  ‘That man is too clever to do something like what you say, wazir-e-azam. He will never put himself in such a vulnerable position. If he was found sitting in one of those baskets, he would have been cut to pieces, without a chance to defend himself. And why would his son be sitting in a sweetmeat box to escape? He was free to go in and out of sarai,’ Aurangzeb controls his voice and dismisses his prime minister.

  Aurangzeb stays awake that night, sitting alone in his private office at the edge of his palace at Agra Fort. He comes to some conclusions, the first of which is that Shiva was never sick, he was only pretending to be sick to reduce the tension among the police force and make them his sympathizers. A bedridden man cannot escape, can he?

  It is likely that Shiva quietly left the sarai, disguised as a Brahmin, along with hundreds of others who gathered for the lecture, rituals and the feast three weeks ago. If he covered at least fifteen kos a day by horse, he must be at least three hundred kos away from Agra by now. Shiva had a strategy and time was of the essence. He had three weeks to escape without anyone chasing him. It is now difficult to catch up with him.

  This thought stops Aurangzeb’s heart.

  Aurangzeb suddenly knows the truth. The mayhem was purposely created by inviting all those Brahmins for a kafir ritual. Shiva and his men had known that after a heavy meal, which Aurangzeb suspects was mildly laced with opium, Fulad and his men would find it difficult to distinguish between the Brahmins who wore similar attires. It was then easy to escape as a Brahmin while someone else acted as terminally ill on Shiva’s bed. Someone was impersonating him during the function, and then thereafter for three weeks till today. Niraji and Hiroji must be taking turns since they both have brown eyes like Shiva! Another fact strikes Aurangzeb that after he has come back from the hunt, there has not been any exchange of messages between him and Shiva.

  Aurangzeb also wonders how Shiva and his men would travel through the empire without dastak papers. No sooner has he asked himself that question than he gets the answer: Shiva is too shrewd to leave without the papers, because without papers he would not get food, fodder and horses from the sarais and no ferrymen will take him across the rivers that are swollen after the monsoons.

  Someone has helped him with dastak papers! The papers must have been procured when most of Shiva’s men left for the Deccan. Mohammad Amin cannot do it all by himself—he needs a royal seal for approval and only Aurangzeb’s sons and his sister can use it when he is away. But she can feign innocence citing whatever was submitted by Amin was taken with trust since Aurangzeb had given the order about letting Shiva’s men go south. The more Aurangzeb thinks, the more furious he becomes. This is not the time to lose his mind; he must act as if he is on the war path.

  Aurangzeb decides to do all he can to catch the man who has outwitted him. Kunwar must have played some role in this political drama. He and his father need to be severely punished. Mirza must die. Udayaraj Munshi must poison his master! Shivaji’s son must be found so that Aurangzeb can teach Shambhu’s father a lesson he will never forget in his life and even in his death!

  Where is Sambhaji now? That was the cleverest part of the drama. Shivaji left his son behind to put the Mughals in total complacency. His son acted as an optical illusion for everyone. Even the boy may not know the man on the b
ed is not his father!

  Within days, the entire imperial machinery is activated. Farmans are dispatched to the subhedars of twenty-two Mughal provinces, and also to thousands of mansabdars from the regions between Agra and Aurangabad. Meetings are held, maps are drawn, the smallest forest trails that lead to the Deccan are noted, astrologers and soothsayers are consulted. Fifty thousand horsemen are deployed in the manhunt. They comb the area between Agra and Varanasi, raiding the temples, sarais, mosques, Hindu schools, cremation grounds, burial grounds and even madrassas. Hundreds and thousands of mendicants, ascetics, swamis, priests, fakirs and pirs are arrested, flogged and imprisoned. A contingent of Rajput soldiers is sent to search the regions between the Narmada and Tapi rivers that divide Hindustan into north Hindustan and the Deccan. Every group, Hindu or Muslim, with a small boy is taken into custody and kept under watch for a few days before letting go. Meanwhile, entire Hindustan has started talking that Raja Shivaji escaped by hiding in a sweetmeat container!

  Only Aurangzeb knows what could have really happened. The hunt for Kavindra is on. Finally he is found wandering the forty kos away from Agra in the desert of Rajasthan without the elephants, palanquin and the horses. How did he reach there, where are his elephants and horses? He says he has given everything away to the poor! Without any proof he is allowed to go free.

  Kunwar Ram Singh is put under house arrest. Someone has told Aurangzeb that Fulad was seen taking a gold bracelet from Shiva’s men. Fulad and some of his officers are fired. Mohammed Amin has fallen from Aurangzeb’s eyes and his future as the imperial mir bakshi is at stake . . .

  It is the beginning of Aurangzeb’s true jihad, the war is on. He has decided that the Deccan will be his final frontiers and he will bathe the Deccan with Bhosale blood.

  4

  It is the end of the rainy season when a contingent of tired horsemen arrives at the gates of Raigad. They say they have come to see Jija Bai Sahib with a message from Agra. Jija bai is very anxious to hear from her son and if he is indeed alive, but she knows the danger of letting the contingent in. Finally, after much deliberation, she allows them to enter as an armed fort garrison surrounds them.