Shivaji

by Ranjit Desai

  ‘I will, if Maa saheb does not object.’

  ‘I will tell her,’ Raje said.

  ‘I will take leave now,’ Soyarabai said and was about to leave when Shivaji pulled her back with his hand on her shoulder. He asked, ‘Would you like me to get you something when I return?’

  ‘What shall I say? I am told that you get good perfumes in the north. Get me some if you have the time.’

  Raje laughed out loud. Soyarabai was taken aback and asked, ‘Did I say something wrong?’

  ‘Oh no! That would be the only good thing I would do during my trip. Why would I forget?’

  Soyarabai blushed and left the quarters. Raje’s artificial smile promptly disappeared.

  It was late night when Raje returned to his room and it was lit by a few lamps. He saw someone sitting on his bed. He came closer to find Putla there. He asked, ‘Is that you, Putla?’

  Putlabai got up and Raje turned her face towards his and asked, ‘Putla, what is the matter?’

  Putla could not hold back her tears as her body was racked with sobs. Raje hugged her and said, caressing her back, ‘Come on now! Wipe your tears.’ He continued, ‘It was good that you came in, Putla. I wanted to ask you something.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘What shall I get for you?’

  ‘Will you get me what I want?’

  ‘Of course, please tell me what it is!’

  ‘Do you promise?’

  ‘Yes! Now tell me.’

  She raised her eyes to look at him. Raje was eager to hear her wish and pleaded, ‘Tell me! What is it that I should get for you?’

  ‘I want you to come back safe,’ Putlabai said, a sob escaping her lips.

  Raje was silent. He said, ‘It is a tough job. But I will do it on one condition.’ She looked up surprised. Raje said, smiling, ‘You will not keep any fasts for me. And you will not cry.’

  ‘What sort of condition is this?’

  ‘When I return, I want to see my dear ones happy.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said as she got up. ‘I will leave now. It is getting late, and I was only waiting to see you.’

  Raje called her name softly as she turned to leave, ‘Putla!’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Will you do one thing for me?’

  Putlabai did not reply but waited for him to continue. Shivaji said, his voice choking with emotions, ‘Maa saheb is getting old. Take care of her. She needs someone to be her support and console her. I know you can do it and that I can leave without a worry. Would you?’

  ‘You have shown faith in me. I am blessed,’ Putlabai said and left without turning back.

  Raje went to bed relieved.

  #

  Raje got up in the morning and when he returned after puja, he found Manohari busy packing his things. He asked her, ‘Have you packed the sphatika linga from the puja room?’ Raje would not leave without the quartz linga for his daily puja.

  ‘Yes, in the morning itself. Shall I go now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She turned to leave but bent down quickly and touched Raje’s feet and he touched her head. She got up with tears in her eyes. Raje said, ‘Don’t worry, Manu. I will return safely. I would not allow your efforts to go in vain. Take care of Maa saheb.’

  Raje came down to find Sambhaji Raje decked up and ready to leave. Sambhaji was nearly nine years old now. Raje commented, ‘The royal durbar will be pleased to see you.’

  Raje and Sambhaji went to the puja room and touched their foreheads on the ground. Maa saheb was there and they touched her feet. She could not hold her tears back and hugged Shivaji tightly.

  Raje managed to get himself out of her clasp and said, ‘Don’t worry, Maa saheb. I am going into the enemy’s den fully aware of the dangers. Don’t get upset by the rumours which are likely to go around. I will return safely.’

  ‘Take care of the child.’ Shivaji was about to turn when Jijabai spoke again, ‘Wait a moment.’ She brought a shawl out and handed it to Raje.

  He asked, ‘What is this for?’

  ‘Raje, this is the shawl Bal Raje likes to sleep with.’

  ‘But would it not be too hot for a shawl?’

  ‘Bal Raje likes the warmth which this shawl provides.’

  Shivaji picked up the shawl and left the palace with Sambhaji.

  #

  While on the way to Agra, Shivaji received another farman from Aurangzeb that read: ‘People in Agra are waiting for you and you may arrive to receive our hospitality. You will be sent back with honour …’

  Special clothes were sent along with the farman, and Shivaji was pleased to receive the farman and the clothes. The Mughal officers would visit Shivaji wherever he camped, ensuring that food and other necessities were taken care of. Aurangzeb had instructed them in advance that the guests should be treated as if ‘the emperor himself were travelling’. The journey was thus without any trouble.

  The whole city of Aurangabad seemed quite eager to meet Shivaji Raje. There were thousands on the road waiting to see Shivaji. Suddenly there was a shout, ‘He has arrived … he has arrived.’

  Aurangabad’s soldiers marched into the town, clearing the crowds with shouts of ‘Clear the paths!’ An elephant led the procession with a silver howdah on which the saffron flag fluttered. The embroidered symbol of the sun and moon on the flag shone brightly in the daylight. The elephant was followed by cavalry soldiers decked up in a similar fashion and they were followed by foot soldiers. The royal palanquin was behind the soldiers.

  Shivaji sat in the palanquin embellished with silver work. The palanquin legs and top were golden in colour. A similar palanquin followed carrying Sambhaji. All the palanquin bearers wore a similar dress with their Turkish turbans attracting everyone’s attention. The guards surrounding the palanquin brandished naked swords and long-nosed rifles. Two men followed the palanquin with long umbrellas to provide shade. Shivaji’s key aides followed on elephants behind while the rest of the entourage consisted of carts and camels with their luggage.

  The citizens of Aurangabad were pleased to see Shivaji. Sambhaji, with his good looks, captured the imagination of the population. Seeing the handsome young boy, many Hindu women cracked their knuckles on the sides of their heads in a gesture to ward off the evil eye.

  Aurangabad’s Subedar Shafshik Khan was an arrogant man and though he had received the farman sent to Shivaji, he sent his nephew to receive Shivaji. He believed that a Maratha zamindar did not deserve anymore. His nephew received Shivaji in a tent and said, ‘I welcome you on behalf of Subedar Shafshik Khan. He has invited you to his haveli.’

  Shivaji asked, ‘I hope the Subedar is not unwell.’

  ‘By the grace of Allah, he is fine.’

  ‘Why don’t you lead us to our tents where we can get some rest?’

  ‘Would you not visit Subedar’s haveli?’

  ‘No. We would like to visit our tents.’

  The Subedar’s nephew led the way to the area in the royal gardens specially created for their stay. He then ran to the Subedar to give him Shivaji’s answer. The Subedar, waiting with his officials, finally understood the meaning of Aurangzeb’s farman to ‘treat him as if the emperor himself were travelling’. He realized his folly and was worried that Shivaji may narrate this incident at the Delhi durbar. He rushed to the royal gardens and welcomed Shivaji with all grace and humility. Shivaji was pleased with the reception and also agreed to visit the Subedar’s haveli.

  Shivaji visited the haveli the next day. Everyone present was impressed with his humble nature. He spent a few days at Aurangabad and then proceeded on his journey. The Subedar personally escorted the entourage till the borders of the town.

  The journey was uneventful with pleasant weather. Sambhaji hounded Hiroji Farzand with a million questions as he marched along his palanquin.

  The fort of Daulatabad was visible now. The majestic fort stood strong in the flat grounds covering it. Shivaji could not take his eyes off the fort. The
green Mughal flag fluttering on the top of the fort pierced Shivaji’s heart. The Vijayanagara empire had been reduced to dust by the Mughals and so had Daulatabad’s riches. The Mughal juggernaut had reduced everything to ashes. Shivaji was worried about whether he too would meet the same fate. The very thought sent a shiver down his spine. He let out a deep sigh. The fort-keeper of Daulatabad stood outside to welcome Shivaji but he declined his invitation and proceeded further.

  Within a month of Raje’s departure for Agra, a heartbreaking piece of news reached Shivaji. Netaji had now joined Mirza Raja’s army and was awarded a panch-hazari mansab by Aurangzeb. Shivaji was deeply hurt by the news and was quiet for a long time.

  The next morning, while making plans for their departure, he told Niraji Ravji, ‘We will cross Grishneshwar on our way. It is where the Bhosale family deity resides, and I would like to halt there.’

  Niraji nodded his head in agreement and a few soldiers were sent in advance to make preparations.

  As the temple came into view, Shivaji became increasingly eager. He said, as he got off the palanquin, ‘Sambhaji, I would like to cover the rest of the distance on horseback. Will you come along?’

  ‘I will, Aba saheb!’

  The horses were made ready. A cool breeze through the dense green forest blew and Tej Singh Kachwaha said, ‘Raje, this is the Badshah’s favourite place. When he was the Subedar under the Shahenshah, he would camp here very often. I am told that he loves this place.’

  Raje looked around and said, ‘I agree. But one does not like this place just because it is beautiful. There is something else that attracts one to such a place.’

  ‘I am unable to follow you, Raje.’

  ‘I too am unable to explain properly. I feel that there is something linked to the Badshah here. Anyway, let us move ahead.’

  The golden spire of the temple glistened in the sun. It was late afternoon by the time they finished their puja. Raje was pleased and he sat with Sambhaji on the floor of the temple.

  Niraji had just arrived when Raje said, ‘Pant, isn’t this a lovely place?’

  ‘Undoubtedly. Raje, I am told there are some beautiful caves quite close by in the hills.’

  ‘Then let us visit them.’

  ‘There is the fear of wild animals there, though.’

  ‘They are not going to eat us, are they?’

  Hiroji Farzand said, ‘We will carry a few torches. That should be enough to scare them away.’

  ‘Let us go,’ Raje said, getting up.

  They moved through dense forests, and the sunlight barely reached the forest floor. The guide expertly guided them through the dense paths and they soon arrived at a clearing. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks. There was a gap in the forest and the caves, carved out of the mountainside, were clearly visible. All eyes were glued to a huge cave, the entrance of which was flanked by carved elephants.

  The guide said, ‘This is Kailash Mandir. The rest of the caves are not accessible but this is the most important one.’

  The majesty of the Kailash Mandir was evident as they approached the cave. There were massive sculptures inside the cave, and Raje stood admiring them. In one, Parvati sat on Shiva’s lap. In another, Ravana was trying to move the Kailasha Mountain. Shivaji’s hands were folded in namaskar.

  ‘One must admire Ravana who dared to move Kailasha to make way for his mother. I wonder who these sculptors were.’

  ‘I am told that many millennia ago, Vishwakarma, with the help of priests, sadhus, gandharvas and Hindus made these caves and sculptures,’ the guide explained.

  ‘Quite obviously, such beauty would not be possible without the blessings of the gurus,’ Raje said. ‘Wah, Nirajipant! I am blessed to have visited this place.’

  They decided to rest at Grishneshwar for the night, camping in the precincts of the temple. They had dinner outdoors and then rested in the open air. Shivaji, though, could not sleep for a long time. The sculpture of the Kailasha Mountain had taken over his mind!

  #

  The heat worsened as their journey continued. There was a distinct change in language and the garb of the people as they moved northwards, and a clear Mughal influence was now visible. Raje listened to the dialect attentively. He was familiar with the Hindustani language, but now paid attention to the nuances. Due to the increasing heat, they would travel from dawn till noon and then after a break, travel again from the late afternoon till sunset. The water supply, carried by the camels, was not sufficient to quench their thirst.

  They reached Asirgarh to be warmly welcomed by the fort-keeper. It was the same Asirgarh Fort, after capturing which Emperor Akbar had exclaimed, ‘I have opened the doors to the south now.’

  The fort-keeper was overwhelmed with emotion and remarked when they departed, ‘Raje, I am blessed with your visit. Let us together promise to serve under the Badshah for generations to come.’

  Shivaji had to bear such insults as he moved towards Agra. He had been given a sum of one lakh rupees for his travel assuming that he may not be able to afford to bear the expenses for offering royal gifts in the Agra Durbar. And now, here was a fort-keeper who was willing to pledge his future generations in the service of the Badshah! He left Asirgarh with a heavy heart.

  The fort of Gwalior, under Raja Man Singh, caught Shivaji’s imagination. It was a beautiful yet powerfully built fort. He wondered whether he would be able to construct such forts back home. They were approaching Agra now and Shivaji wondered what fate had in store for him. The sun continued to burn fiercely.

  They crossed the Narmada and the Chambal rivers and were now close to Agra. Jani Baig had sent word of their arrival ahead. Raje was expecting a senior sardar to receive them, and he looked at the group of soldiers arriving. There was a Rajput soldier followed by four others. The soldier dismounted and bent low in mujra saying, ‘Raja saheb, Kunwar Ram Singh has sent me to welcome you.’

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘Raje, this humble servant is called Munshi Girdharilal.’

  Shivaji did not know whether to laugh or cry. A mere clerk to welcome him! It was preposterous!

  Munshi Girdharilal sensed Shivaji’s hurt feelings and said, ‘Raja saheb, I would like to tell you that Kunwar Ram Singh, Mirza Raja’s son, was to personally come and receive you but has been engaged with some royal duties. I would like you to follow me to your accommodations. Kunwar Ram Singh will join you the moment he is relieved of his duties.’

  ‘Is the royal durbar tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Shivaji entered the city of Agra fuming. The fact that there was no one to receive him irked him and did not bode well for the events to follow. They were asked to make themselves comfortable in Mulukchand Serai. The serai was neat and clean but Shivaji’s mind was restless—the signs were not encouraging. He got up early the next morning and waited for Ram Singh. Many processions entered the city but there was no sign of a welcome for him. He was increasingly getting restless now.

  #

  The city of Agra shone with signs of Mughal prestige. The outskirts of the city were dotted with the amps of sardars who had come to pay their respects. Aurangzeb believed in simple living but he ensured that the visitors were well taken care of. Aurangzeb had a political motive behind such hospitality. His father Shah Jahan was dead and he was to be crowned the emperor now, but in the process, he had acquired a bad reputation.

  He had put his father in prison, making many senior sardars unhappy. He had come to the throne by ensuring that his brothers were taken out of his way. People supporting his brothers had been eliminated too. Having been too restless to watch his father die, he had finally resorted to poisoning him, and this was known to many.

  Aurangzeb wanted to ensure that his fiftieth birthday celebrations and his accession to the throne were excuses to win some friends. The famous Peacock throne had been specially sent from Delhi to Agra. He decided to meet Shivaji in the Diwan-i-Am, the common man’s hall of audience, to put Shivaji in his place.
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  He had nominated Ram Singh and Mukhlis Khan to meet Shivaji on his arrival at Agra. The day Shivaji was to arrive, Ram Singh was deliberately given royal guard duty, which was a duty no one could refuse. Ram Singh was thus forced to send Girdharilal to receive Shivaji. Ram Singh was restless and waited for his duty to get over and pay his respects to Shivaji.

  Shivaji was angry at seeing Girdharilal the next morning, who tried explaining the situation. He pleaded, ‘Raja saheb, I beg of you not to take offence and request that we leave immediately for the durbar. We are already late.’

  Shivaji had travelled all the way from the south for this and did not want to ruin the moment. He also did not want to waste more time arguing and they all left immediately. The sun was high in the sky. Shivaji was carrying the items to be placed before the emperor when he would be welcomed with him. The crowd on the streets looked at the Maratha king as he sat erect on his horse moving towards the durbar hall.

  Even the right path turns out to be the wrong one when fate is against you! Such was the state of Girdharilal when he realized that Ram Singh had not told him which route to take to reach the durbar. Ram Singh and Mukhlis Khan were rushing to meet Shivaji through the Firoza Bagh route while Girdharilal and Shivaji Raje were travelling through a different route. Ram Singh realized his mistake and sent his men to intercept Shivaji en route. It was a hot sunny day when they met in the crowded bazaar and embraced each other.

  Ram Singh said, seeing Shivaji’s entourage, ‘Raja saheb, it is quite crowded up ahead. I suggest you leave the elephants near my camp and we move forward. There is no point in any further delay.’

  Shivaji agreed and moved along with Kunwar Ram Singh and Mukhlis Khan.

  The Agra Fort shone in its glory with the lovely red sandstone minarets. The guards at the entrance were alert and scanned each and every individual entering the fort. The gatekeeper allowed them inside the fort after checking their credentials. Shivaji did not have time to look around. Hearing the trumpets, Ram Singh urged them to move faster. Seeing the crowd of sardars assembled in the gardens outside the Diwan-i-Am, Ram Singh realized that the special durbar at the Diwan-i-Am was over. The durbar for which Mirza Raja had specially sent Raje all the way to Agra was over.