by Ranjit Desai
Jijabai asked, ‘Have we reached the fort?’
‘Jiu,’ Lakhujirao replied, ‘First we will pay our respects to Shivai Devi and then move further up.’
Jijabai stepped out of the palanquin and began to walk ahead carefully. One of the maids was ready with the items for the ritual while Lakhuji and Vishwasrao walked a few steps behind.
Entering into the temple Vishwasrao said, ‘Rani saheb, Shivai Devi is reputed to have many powers. Whatever you ask for will be granted.’
Jijabai prayed to the deity for a while and accepted the prasad in her cupped hands when Lakhujirao said, ‘Dear, will you do something for me?’ Then he paused for a moment, changing his mind, and said, ‘I will tell you about it later.’
The sun was high up when they reached the fort and they could now see the palace ahead. As Jijabai stepped out of the palanquin, Lakhujirao said, pointing at the mountains in the direction of Pune, ‘Jiu, you need not ever feel alone. You see Lenyadri there? It is our protector.’
Jijabai folded her hands in obeisance to the Lenyadri Ganesha, one of the Ashtavinayaks.
Jadhavrao left after seeing Jijabai off to the palace. Lakhuji could not hold back his tears when she touched his feet, and hugged her affectionately saying, ‘Jiu, you are such a simple soul. Even if your husband does not invite me here, I shall come to see my grandchild. And here,’ he said, as he took out a pouch hanging at his waist. ‘Take this pouch of one hundred and one gold coins. I have made a promise to Shivai that if I am blessed with a grandson, I will donate these coins. My dear, this is my blessing for you—you shall have a child who will make you proud and who will never allow you to be sad. Take care now, and I shall return soon.’
A few of Vishwasrao’s sardars were waiting. Lakhujirao said, ‘With such dedicated men to look after Jiu, I am not worried. Take good care of her.’
Looking at Vishwasrao, Lakhujirao said, ‘Vishwasrao, I can never repay my debt but …’
‘Please don’t say anything. Leave everything to me and be assured.’
‘I have full faith in you. Nevertheless, if you need anything, please call me. I will make myself available at the fort immediately. Ram, Ram.’
Vishwasrao bowed slightly and flapped his right arm in front of his chest three times in the traditional way of greeting. Lakhujirao accepted these mujras and Vishwasrao walked a few steps with him to say his goodbyes.
The sun was at its zenith when Lakhujirao stepped out of the fort.
The political situation was not very conducive. Lakhujirao worked under the Nizam Shah. Constant skirmishes were the order of the day, leading to a very turbulent and instable situation. A worried Jijabai could only pray for the well-being of her father and her husband.
#
It had been four months since Jijabai had arrived at the fort. Jijabai would get up in the morning, have a bath and complete her puja before sunrise. Then, she would help a little in the kitchen, read a few religious texts and have lunch, enjoy a siesta, and go for a little walk in the evening. Once every two days, she would walk all the way to the Shivai Devi Temple. Vishwasrao would plead, in vain, for her to take the palanquin.
One afternoon, while Jijabai rested in her room, her maid Lakshmibai sat on the carpet stitching a dress. Another maid sat on the floor massaging Jijabai’s feet. Lakshmibai asked casually, ‘Rani saheb …’
‘Lakshmibai, don’t address me so formally. We are of the same age. Why don’t you call me Jija?’
‘I can’t forget my position just because I love you.’
Jijabai sighed and said, ‘Tell me.’
‘Don’t you feel like eating something special? I have not seen you ask for anything.’
She laughed. ‘Frankly, I don’t have any special taste buds. Instead, I feel like going for a horse ride, a sword dangling at my side, riding around the fort in the cool morning air. Look at the dense forest in the valley—how I wish I could go riding there!’
Lakhmibai laughed as she put her stitching down.
‘Shall I tell you something?’ Jijabai continued, ‘I am unable to sleep in the afternoon.’
‘Why?’
She blushed and, lovingly moving her hand over her stomach, she said, ‘He keeps playing all the time.’
Lakshmibai got up immediately and made the traditional sign of breaking her knuckles over Jijabai’s glowing face to ward off evil.
That evening, as Jijabai was strolling with Lakshmibai and other maids, the servant Vithu came running and announced Vishwasrao’s arrival.
Vishwasrao came along with Hanumanta, an elderly gentleman. Jijabai said, as they bent in mujra, ‘What’s the matter, Vishwasrao? Is something wrong?’
‘Rani saheb, it is not good news.’
Jijabai waited for him to continue.
‘Shahaji Raje captured the territory of Bijapur; and hence, the Bijapurkars have sent Murar Jagdev to raid Pune. He has been traumatizing the city, burning palaces and torturing people. He has stabbed the heart and soul of Shahaji Raje’s kingdom and run away.’
‘What about Raje?’ Jijabai asked, her throat dry.
‘I am told he is safe and is somewhere near Phaltan.’
‘Vishwasrao, it is our good fortune …’ Jijabai’s voice trailed away.
After saluting her, Vishwasrao left and Jijabai allowed her tears to fall.
News never comes singly. Before Jijabai could get over the earlier news, she heard that Shahaji Raje’s cousin Kheloji Bhosale’s wife, on the way to Nashik for a dip in the Godavari River, had been kidnapped by Mahabat Khan. Jijabai was badly affected by the news and did not have the energy to climb up to the temple after that day.
Vishwasrao and the other sardars were constantly worried. Gomajipant was from her father’s village and he could speak to her without any protocol or formality, but still his words did not comfort her. Lakshmibai was trying to find different ways to keep her mind free of such thoughts, but in vain.
She realized that since a few days, they all seemed unnaturally silent. Lakshmibai avoided her and the maids seemed to be carrying some burden with them in the way they walked. Vishwasrao, Gomaji and the others seemed to talk abruptly, almost stiltedly. Jijabai saw all of this but was unable to understand what was going on. The silence became unbearable after a couple of days and she confronted Vishwasrao.
‘Vishwasrao, I have not come here just because I am related to you. You are like a brother to me—that is why I agreed to stay here.’
‘I know that.’
‘Then what are you hiding from me?’
‘Why, did someone say something?’
‘I don’t need to be told. For the past two days, you seem to be avoiding me.’
‘There seems to be some misunderstanding, Rani saheb.’
‘Vishwasrao, I am not a child and have suffered many a blow. If you won’t tell me the truth, I am leaving the fort right away.’
‘Rani saheb …’
‘I am prepared to hear anything. I have the strength but I cannot bear to keep imagining things. Tell me what it is!’
‘Maa saheb …’
‘Tell me …’
Vishwasrao burst into tears.
‘Vishwasrao, please control yourself,’ Jijabai said, feeling desperate now and using the wall for support.
Vishwasrao wiped his tears and blurted out, ‘Your Aba saheb … Lakhujirao Jadhav … has been murdered.’
‘Murdered? Aba has been murdered? Who killed him?’ Jijabai looked at Vishwasrao wide-eyed.
Vishwasrao had no words and tried to form a sentence as he licked his lips nervously. ‘Lakhujirao had gone to Daulatabad with Achloji, Raghoji and Yeshwantrao—his three sons—to see the Sultan. He was not aware that a plot had been laid earlier. After accepting their salutes, the Sultan just got up and left the durbar without saying anything. Lakhujirao was unable to understand what had just occurred but before he could react …’
‘Continue, Vishwasrao, please continue. Don’t stop for a second.’
; ‘… at that moment, swords were drawn. They had no time to react and defend themselves. How can one protect oneself with just a small knife? Maa saheb, four Jadhavs have been murdered trying to serve the Sultan. Only Bahadurji, who was with his mother, is alive.’
Vishwasrao looked up to see Jijabai standing still as a statue, her back to the wall. She had a vacant look. A strange, hideous smile formed on her face. Vishwasrao could hear dry words …
‘Aba is dead. My home is no more. One enemy has raided our Pune. Another has taken away our daughter. And the Sultan, whom my father served loyally, has killed him in his own durbar.’
And then she screamed loudly. ‘Vishwasrao, is there a god in this damned universe?’
He rushed to steady her as she slipped to the floor, unconscious. The entire palace erupted in turmoil. In the middle of the night, all one could hear from the palace were deep heart-rending sobs.
#
Jijabai was unable to recover from the news of her father’s murder in cold blood. She would get up in the middle of the night, her whole body drenched with sweat and be startled even at the noise of a falling vessel. She would keep watching Lenyadri from her window and would start crying the moment someone tried talking to her.
Lakshmibai tried everything to take her mind off the matter but did not succeed. A few days later, Lakshmibai said exasperatedly, ‘Rani saheb, are you the only one to feel this sorrow? Don’t I feel sad for whatever has happened? I now am worried for your son. At the very least, take care of your son who is growing inside you. Don’t you think your sadness will affect his health?’
Jijabai’s body shook with fear. She had completely forgotten her child in the midst of her father’s tragedy. She said, wiping her tears, ‘Lakshmibai, I understand; thank you; but I will not allow my sorrow to affect anyone else.’
And from then onwards Jijabai started moving around as before, taking care of her unborn child. Soon, nine months drew to a close. Brahmins had been called for meals and special maids were now in charge of Jijabai. Experienced and carefully handpicked physicians were standing ready for any emergency. The nursery looked bright with freshly painted walls. The roof had a layer of pearls to reflect light from the oil lamps which burned day and night. A golden vessel with fresh water stood on a table nearby. As a sign of good omen, white mustard was strewn all over the floor. Everyone was waiting for the arrival of a new life.
The afternoon progressed towards the evening and a cool breeze had just begun. Vishwasrao, Gomaji Naik, the chief physician and some others sat making paan for themselves. Putting some lime on his betel leaf, Naik said, ‘Sarkar, you seem quiet.’
‘What can I say, Gomajipant? You remember when Maa saheb interceded to stop a fellow from being thrown over?’
‘Yes, she can’t tolerate such violent methods.’
‘That is true, but crimes are on the rise each day. If there are no rains this year, the coming year is going to be very difficult for all us.’
‘Shall I say something?’ ventured Shastribua, the priest.
‘Please.’
‘I can clearly see famine in the future.’
‘Why don’t you say something about Rani saheb rather than making such predictions?’ Vishwasrao commented sarcastically.
‘Don’t worry about Rani saheb’s future. I am not worried on that count,’ Shastribua said.
‘I just checked her pulse today. The child is due any moment now …’ the physician muttered.
At that moment a maid came running to give news. ‘Sarkar, Rani saheb is in the advanced stages of labour now. I have been asked to inform you.’
‘I was sure of my diagnosis,’ the physician mumbled in a low tone.
Everyone stood up in hurry but immediately realized that getting up was of no use, and they all sat down again. They could do precious little as nature took its course.
Time crawled. Hours went by and it was time to light the lamps but there was no news yet. The men grew more anxious with each passing moment, and all they could see was the maids and midwives rushing about.
It was approaching midnight. Vishwasrao was deep in thought as he paced up and down the corridor. The lamps were flickering in the wind and shadows played on the walls.
A maid came running, her face bright and smiling. ‘Sarkar, it’s a baby boy!’
Vishwasrao could not contain his happiness. He removed the pouch at his waist and poured the coins over the maid. Shastribua got busy calculating the exact time of the birth in his small diary. Vishwasrao reached Jijabai’s room along with Shastribua. Vishwasrao showered the child with gold coins and said, ‘Rani saheb, Shastribua is here.’
Jijabai managed a weak smile as she folded her palms to the priest. A carpet had been laid out for the shastri to sit on. He opened the almanac where the exact date and time had been marked and a low chant could be heard, ‘Shri Ganeshaya namah …’
Shastribua did some counting on his fingertips and after consulting the almanac, he started filling up the horoscope. The moment he completed the horoscope, he looked at Jijabai.
‘Shastribua, tell me without any hesitation. Since the day I was pregnant, it has been chaos. Bloodshed, losing Pune, losing his grandfather … all our relatives turned our enemies and we lost our jagir. His father is still running from enemies while his elder brother, still young, roams around with him. I have given birth to him in a place which is neither my husband’s nor my parent’s house. What more calamities can one think of? So tell me without hesitation.’
It was a sad outburst but Shastribua did not wince. He said with a relaxed smile, ‘Rani saheb, please don’t have such negative thoughts in your mind. The bad days are over. Your luck is smiling on you. You have delivered the sun god!’
Jijabai said, her voice tinged with sarcasm, ‘All of you say the same thing while preparing the horoscope of a child.’
Stung by her reply, the shastri spoke in a voice loud and clear, ‘Rani saheb, please believe me. Till now, this shastri has not been proved wrong. I predict not for the lure of gold but for the sake of my knowledge, my experience and my confidence. This horoscope too will not be proved wrong. This child will redeem the sins of the past. Rani saheb, don’t forget Krishna was born to Devaki and Vasudev in Kamsa’s prison when the weight of sin had reached its peak and the whole world was fed up.’
‘May your words be true,’ Jijabai said, sounding relieved. She looked at the child lying in her lap, happily sucking his wrist.
#
Fresh cool winds had started blowing since Jijabai had given birth. A few horsemen had been dispatched immediately to inform Shahaji Raje. New ornaments and clothes were being ordered to the fort. Lakshmibai opened a lovely silk sari with small violet embroidered dots and said, ‘Rani saheb, isn’t that gorgeous?’
‘Yes, it is!’
‘Then you will wear it at the naming ceremony.’
A royal palanquin came to the fort the next day and Vishwasrao rushed to receive the visitor. Shahaji Raje’s mother and Jijabai’s mother-in-law, Umabai saheb, had arrived.
Umabai’s face showed the exhaustion of the long ride. Jijabai touched her feet the moment she entered the nursery. The child was fast asleep in the crib. She observed him with keen eyes and moving her hands in blessing over his head, said, ‘He looks just like you. When is the naming ceremony?’
Lakshmibai replied, ‘Tomorrow. Just yesterday Rani saheb was wishing that someone from the family would be in attendance.’
‘I understand. Jiu, you have a handsome son. He will fulfil all your wishes.’ She added, with a serious face, ‘Have you informed his father?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you think he is going to come? He has left the house to take care of his army. Damn the royal pursuit!’
Both Lakshmibai and Jijabai laughed out loud at Umabai’s sudden outburst.
After a while, Umabai asked, ‘And where is your elder one, my dear?’
‘With his father.’
‘What an idiot! And you
are an idiot many times over to send such a young lad out. Is this the age for him to roam around in such danger? If I had been here, I would have told him …’ She let out a deep sigh and said, ‘But who will listen to my advice?’
The next morning, the fort woke up to the sound of the shehnai. Decorative flags were fluttering at the entrance and the maids had beautified the grounds with rangoli patterns. The air was filled with the songs being sung by the ladies.
Jijabai asked Umabai shyly, ‘What shall we name the baby?’
‘What did you have in mind?’
‘I had prayed to Shivai Devi. I wish to call him Shivaji.’
‘And so it shall be!’
After the rituals, Jijabai bent down in the crib and whispered his name into the baby’s ears, ‘Shivaji!’
As per tradition, Jijabai’s back was hammered with soft, friendly blows from all the ladies. The whole fort reverberated with the sounds of trumpets, horns and drums, and the baby’s name was declared to every one present.
The palanquin was then readied outside the palace. Shivaji was now ready for devi darshan. Jijabai sat holding the baby in her lap inside the palanquin while Lakshmibai and the other maids walked alongside. Shivaji was placed in front of the devi. Sacred ash was smeared on his forehead and the priest blessed him.
Vishwasrao was becoming restless, wishing to return to the palace before nightfall. At that moment Jijabai handed over a velvet pouch to Vishwasrao. He asked, ‘What is this?’
Jijabai, her eyes filled with tears, said, ‘Aba had made a promise, while leaving, that if I had a boy, he would donate these hundred and one gold coins. He may have passed away but the promise should not be broken.’ Jijabai could not speak any further, and she wiped her tears with the edge of her sari.
Vishwasrao opened the pouch with shivering hands and the coins flowed from his hand on to the floor. Gold coins were raining near the head and feet of the baby.
#
Shivaji was fast growing up in his grandmother’s lap, in his mother’s cosy arms and on the shoulders of the maids and other servants. If any passing vendor came to the fort with a new rattle or a toy, Vishwasrao would immediately buy it. The shastri, while returning from Junnar village, bought a metal chain much to the amusement of those present. He said, noticing their mocking smiles, ‘Anklets of silver or gold do improve the baby’s health. For good health, he needs this anklet made of pancharatna.’
