by Ranjit Desai
Aurangzeb had moved to the Diwan-i-Khas, or the Hall of Private Audience. Ram Singh sent the message of Raje’s arrival through Wazir Jaffar Khan. Aurangzeb sent Asad Khan Bakshi to meet Shivaji.
Shivaji’s eyes took some time to adjust to move from the bright sunlight to the dark and cool halls of the Diwan-i-Khas. Aurangzeb sat on an elaborately embroidered chair. Vetiver curtains hung all around, sprinkled with water, provided a cool ambience and prevented the harsh sunlight from entering. Soldiers stood at attention on the sides while two maids waved a fan slowly.
The men present there were a select few, chosen by the Badshah himself. Wazir Jaffar Khan was one of them. Raja Jaswant Singh stood there with his head bent low. Aurangzeb wore a heavily embroidered, pale green angarkha. His white cummerbund was embroidered with fine silk while his headgear shone with the diamonds reflecting the light of the lamps. A huge pearl necklace completed his attire. Raje stood there looking at the Badshah in all his glory. Jaffar Khan stepped forward followed by Shivaji. Aurangzeb sat there observing them.
Aurangzeb stared at the slightly short yet magnetic persona of Shivaji. The servants presented the ‘nazar’, the traditional way of honouring someone. The tray consisted of a thousand coins, two bundles of two thousand rupees and five thousand rupees. Shivaji stepped back and Sambhaji stepped forward to present a tray with five hundred coins and two bundles of a thousand and two thousand rupees. They both bowed, presenting their mujras.
Shivaji stood at attention while Aurangzeb continued to watch them silently. The emperor seemed tired after his meeting in the Diwan-i-Am. At a signal from Jaffar Khan, Shivaji went and stood behind Jaswant Singh. He was trying to control his anger. Everyone was given the royal paan as symbol of their loyalty but the true symbol, the royal gift from the Badshah was given to the chosen few such as Bade Shahzada, Jaffar Khan and Jaswant Singh.
Shivaji had been silently bearing every insult ever since he had met Mirza Raja. Now, he had travelled all the way to Agra only to be insulted once again. He could not bear the fact that he was not honoured by Aurangzeb. He was being treated as a lesser mortal compared to Jaswant Singh.
He asked, his voice loud, as his eyes burnt in anger, ‘Ram Singh, who is this person standing in front of me?’
The court could not believe that someone had spoken in such a loud voice. Protocol demanded that when in front of the Badshah, one would keep one’s eyes fixed on the ground and speak only when spoken to and after covering one’s mouth with a handkerchief. And here was someone who had the temerity to speak loudly! The court shivered with fear.
Ram Singh whispered, ‘Raja Jaswant Singh!’
Shivaji continued, his voice as loud as before, ‘Really? The same Raja Jaswant Singh whose army ran away when they confronted me? And this person now stands ahead of me?’
Ram Singh begged Shivaji to stop with folded hands. But Shivaji’s anger erupted and he said, ‘I simply can’t tolerate this!’
Ram Singh was mortally scared and held Shivaji’s hands, entreating him to stop.
Shivaji brushed his hands off, shouting, ‘Never!’
Turning his back to the Badshah, he marched out of the Diwan-i-Khas, and Sambhaji Raje followed. The durbar was stunned into silence. Ram Singh hurriedly saluted and stepped back without showing the Badshah his back till he was out of the hall. Outside the hall, Shivaji sat on the floor with his head resting on his palms. Ram Singh ran after him shouting, ‘Raja saheb!’
Raje raised his left hand to interrupt him and said, ‘Don’t say a word, Kunwar! Is this the reason you got me here? I am ready to be beheaded but I would not go back to meet the Badshah again.’
Aurangzeb listened to the conversation outside. He instructed Multafi Khan, Akhil Khan and Mukhlis Khan to bring Shivaji back. ‘Give him the royal honour and ask him to come back.’
They rushed out of the hall and tried to cajole Shivaji Raje, further angering him.
‘I did not come here just to receive the royal honour. I was made to stand behind Jaswant Singh. Why? Merely to insult me? My son is a panch-hazari Mansabdar under the Badshah. He can be made to stand wherever the Badshah wishes him to. But I am not a servant of the Badshah!’
‘Raja saheb!’ Mukhlis Khan tried to interrupt.
‘Your Badshah may kill me if he wishes. But I would never serve under him.’
The three of them returned, unable to convince Shivaji. They explained the situation to the Badshah when Ram Singh said, ‘Alijah! It seems the hot Agra weather has not suited Raje. May he please be pardoned.’
‘I can understand his feelings,’ said Aurangzeb. ‘Ram Singh, please sprinkle my special gulab jal on him to cool him down. Please request him to come back. We will then talk.’
Ram Singh returned to Shivaji’s camp and asked him to sit down. Shivaji’s body continued to tremble. Ram Singh was worried. After all, he was responsible for Shivaji’s well-being. He said, ‘Raja saheb, you should not have lost your temper.’
Shivaji’s angry glare bore into Ram Singh ‘Why don’t you say this to the Badshah? There is a limit to which a person can bear insults. There are enough men in the durbar to introduce me. There are many who have lost fighting against me …’
‘But Raje, this could lead to …’
‘Since when have Rajputs done anything keeping the results in mind?’
‘I think there has been a misunderstanding,’ Ram Singh tried to say.
‘What do you mean? The durbar seems to have ignored simple protocol. A mere clerk is sent to receive me when I arrive in Agra. I am then asked to stand with mere sardars of no ranking and deliberately ignored when the royal welcome is being showered! And you say that there was a misunderstanding?’
Ram Singh let out a deep sigh and said, ‘Please hear me out! This is just your bad luck. I was supposed to receive you but I was called for royal guard duties which I could not refuse. Even the Badshah did not realize it. In the morning, we missed each other and were late. Who knows how things would have turned out if you had presented yourself in the Diwan-i-Am? The emperor was waiting for you, in fact. It is possible that he may be upset that you did not come there on time. But he did not show his irritation. He accepted your presents.’
‘And in return insulted me?’
‘What insults are you talking about, Raje?’ Ram Singh said bitterly. ‘Do you know Mirza Raja himself stands in the same place where you stood today?’
‘Ram Singh, you seem to be forgetting,’ Raje said, ‘your father is a servant under the Badshah. I may have surrendered but I am an independent king. Aurangzeb may have felt good about honouring me with the title of Raja but that is what I have always been known as!’
Shivaji stood up and said, putting his hand on Ram Singh’s shoulder, ‘Ram Singh, I am prepared for any outcome but I don’t want to embarrass you. I will listen to what you say.’
Ram Singh returned to his camp, which was nearby. Niraji, Sondev, Hiroji Farzand and the others were worried hearing the chain of events. It was nightfall soon.
#
The coronation ceremony and the birthday celebrations went off as grandly as planned. But the event in the Diwan-i-Khas was a blot on the festivities. A Hindu king came into the court and insulted the Badshah and had the temerity to walk away! The news spread all over, and no one could believe it.
Aurangzeb sat in his bedroom wearing a simple white muslin kurta and trousers. A chain of beads moved slowly in his right hand while he twirled his moustache with his left hand. A few queens, Jaffar Khan, and Jaswant Singh were in attendance. A smile played on Aurangzeb’s lips as he moved the beads one by one.
Jaffar Khan said, ‘Alijah, one is punished for speaking out of turn in the durbar. And this Kaffir has had the temerity to come and shout at you and then walk away, showing his back to you! You cannot allow this to go unpunished. If you do, people will lose respect for the crown. We cannot allow such disrespect. Islam would be in danger, and how will we manage the empire then?’
Jaswant
Singh said, in support of Jaffar Khan, ‘My lord, Jaffar Khan is right. Of course, Your Highness will make the final decision. But a loyal soldier cannot tolerate such insults to the crown!’
Aurangzeb smiled and asked, ‘Jaswant Singh, what do you suggest?’
‘My lord, Shivaji must be punished.’
‘Yes, yes. I see the point.’ Playing with his beard, he turned to one of his queens and asked, ‘What do you say, Begum Saheba?’
‘What should I say? The person who looted Surat, cut Shaista Khan’s fingers and insulted you in your durbar cannot be spared.’
Aurangzeb continued to move the beads in silence for a while. He was the emperor of India but he was not swayed by personal insults. He was thinking of Mirza Raja—Mirza Raja who managed his entire empire from Kabul in west to Assam in the east and from Kashmir in the north to the southern states. Mirza Raja was his loyal commander! Everyone waited with bated breath. He looked up after a while and said, ‘This too shall pass. Allah has given us another gift. Are you aware of that?’
Those in attendance looked askance. Aurangzeb continued, ‘The sweet gift called sleep. It is now inviting me. If you don’t mind, I would like to sleep for a while.’
He stifled a yawn while his lips prayed,
Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim …. I begin my day in the name of God, the most beneficent and the most merciful. There are no Gods but God and His prophet. O Saviour of Mankind, be merciful, be blissful …
#
After a couple of days, Kunwar Ram Singh came to meet Shivaji in the afternoon. Shivaji’s anger had subsided in these two days. He had realized that it was not wise to irritate the Badshah in his own territory. As advised by Ram Singh, he had written to the Badshah, though he was not sure how Aurangzeb would respond. Much to Ram Singh’s relief, he was welcomed with a warm smile from Shivaji.
‘What is the news from your durbar, Ram Singh?’
‘It is still a little heated up there! The sardars who are against Mirza Raja are trying to rouse the Badshah against you. Shaista Khan’s begum is adding fuel to the fire.’
‘And what has been the result?’
‘Alampanah is an ocean of love. It is not easy to create ripples in his heart of kindness. I have put in a word and also asked Jaffar Khan to speak in your favour. I suggest you meet him.’
‘What?’
‘Raje, you created this trouble. I suggest you forget your ego for a while and do as I say. I am responsible for your well-being and I want to fulfil my duty properly.’
Raje smiled, ‘Kunwarji, I will do as you say but just don’t ask me to present myself at the durbar again.’
‘Let us go out for a bit of sightseeing today.’
‘With pleasure! Niraji!’ Shivaji said, ‘We will go out to see the city.’
They all mounted their horses while the guards followed behind. At the Taj Mahal, Shivaji was wide-eyed seeing the beautiful architecture shining in the slanting rays of the evening sun. He had heard a lot of praise of the Taj and he was dumbstruck by its beauty. ‘It’s so beautiful!’
‘I was sure you would love it. That is why I got special permission from Wazir Jaffar Khan.’
‘Only a blind man can not appreciate such beauty,’ Shivaji said. ‘But why do you need permission to see the place?’
‘You cannot enter the sanctum where the royal treasure is buried as per instructions from the elder Shahenshah.’
‘Oh, I see!’
‘There is no parallel for this building anywhere in the world. Shah Jahan built this in memory of his wife, Arjumand Banu. About twenty thousand men worked on it for fifteen years. The marble came from Makrana, and the Shahenshah was buried here after his death.’
‘Aba saheb! We too must build something like this,’ Sambhaji said.
Shivaji caressed his back saying, ‘Bal Raje, you are still very young but try to understand this: Every person who ascends to a throne wants to leave behind something which the coming generations will remember him by. They try and build these things for a place in history. But a true king must lead a life such that he does not have to resort to building things for people to remember him by.’
‘Your advice is quite sound,’ Ram Singh nodded with a smile.
‘It is better, then, not to have such monuments,’ Hiroji uttered.
Shivaji turned immediately and said, ‘Hiroji, don’t jump to such conclusions either. It depends on how you look at things. I was talking about the concept of a monument. I never criticized the beauty of the Taj Mahal.’
Everyone was silent. Shivaji continued to be mesmerized by the beauty and stared at the Taj for a while.
Nirojipant said, ‘There is a grandeur here which befits this Mughal monument but it still lacks the pious beauty of a Hindu temple.’
‘I told you, it depends on your outlook. How different would the monument look if I had told you that it represented the four evils—lust, anger, pride and jealousy?’
Shivaji asked, turning to Ram Singh, ‘Kunwarji, are the foundation stones made of marble too?’
‘No, Raja saheb, the foundation stones are but ordinary stones.’ He asked, a little hesitantly, ‘Pardon my curiosity but I wonder why you ask that?’
‘Please don’t be so formal with me. Your father, Mirza Raja, considers me his son. You are like my brother then!’
‘Raja saheb, I must have shown this monument to scores of people but you are the first one to ask this question; and hence I wondered why you ask.’
Shivaji was silent for a while. He let out a deep sigh and said, ‘Kunwarji, thousands of stones lie below to support this beautiful monument. Millions will see and admire the beauty of the marble masterpiece but no one would realize the sacrifice made by the ordinary stones to support the marble blocks. I am reminded of my efforts to build the Swaraj and the thousands who have sacrificed their lives for it. When we get our Swaraj, I will be commemorated and praised but very few will recall the sacrifice made by the thousands of loyal troops. Seeing this I was suddenly reminded of them. Anyway, let us go in.’
They washed their feet and entered the mausoleum. The lovely marble graves were embellished with jewels and stones. A fakir sat with a huge fan made of peacock feathers. The smell of incense sticks and perfume wafted through the thick air. Shivaji folded his hands in veneration and Sambhaji followed suit. Ram Singh could not believe he was seeing Raje with his head bent in prayer. He wondered whether it was the same person who had stormed out of the durbar just a few afternoons ago.
Shivaji said, recognizing Ram Singh’s confusion, ‘Kunwarji, the soul who built this knew the true value of beauty. He understood the value of love. What is wrong in bending down to such a soul?’
They had just come out of the narrow room when Hiroji asked, ‘I wonder how much it cost to build this.’
Raje replied, ‘One does not calculate the cost in war and love.’
They returned to their camp to see cannons being placed around. Thousands of horses were all around. Shivaji noticed a rider coming towards him. He was wearing a green jacket and a typical Muslim dress and rode stylishly, his left hand on his waist while the right hand held the reins.
He smiled indulgently at Shivaji’s men with their naked swords and said, looking at Raje as he bent his head in salute, ‘Shivaji Raje! This humble servant is called Siddi Fulaad Khan. I am sorry to tell you that I have been sent to guard you and your camp with five thousand of my men.’
Shivaji was shocked to hear that. This was the same Fulaad Khan who was known as the ‘one with no heart’. He was a broad-chested hunk of a man.
Shivaji said, ‘Khan saheb, you may do your job. After all, we are both under the Badshah. You may guard us and we shall remain like prisoners here.’
Fulaad Khan was surprised by Shivaji’s nonchalant attitude. He bowed and left. At that moment, Sambhaji came running and asked, ‘Aba saheb, why have so many horsemen come here?’
The innocent question was enough to break Shivaji’s resolve. He blurted out,
‘We have been cheated. We have been trapped!’ And his tears flowed—he could not resist them anymore.
#
Fulaad Khan and his men guarded the camp from the outside while Ram Singh’s men were inside. Shivaji was impressed with Aurangzeb’s cunning. It was clear that they could not escape easily now. He decided to put his mind to work—he had to find a way out of this.
When Ram Singh came to meet him, he said, ‘Ram Singh, do you agree with me now? This is what Aurangzeb has had in mind since the beginning.’
‘I am deeply disturbed, Raje,’ Ram Singh said with tears in his eyes. ‘I have conveyed the message to my father. I can only do so much.’
Shivaji knew that Ram Singh was not at fault. He said, ‘I am not blaming you. Now listen to me. I know that your word has no value in the durbar. Don’t take anymore responsibility on my behalf.’
‘Raja saheb!’
‘Listen to me carefully, Ram Singh! Tell Aurangzeb that Fulaad Khan has surrounded Shivaji and that he cannot escape. He does not need you anymore. Relieve yourself of this responsibility.’
Ram Singh got up quickly. He could not shirk his responsibilities so easily. He said, his eyes filled with tears, ‘Raje, it is your large-heartedness to say so but I am, after all, a Rajput. I have given you my word and you have accepted me as your brother. How can I leave you like this? Whatever, has to happen, let it.’
Ram Singh continued, before Shivaji could interrupt, ‘Raje, don’t worry. My trusted men, Tej Singh, Arjun Singh, Sukh Singh Nathawat, are here to guard you. They will keep a constant vigil.’
Raje let out a deep sigh. He went to see Ram Singh off and then assembled his own key men. They were happy to hear his plan, and their hopes were renewed.
The next day Ram Singh came in to find Shivaji in a foul mood. His men were gathered around while he shouted, ‘Get out all of you! You are all good-for-nothing. I don’t want to see you here.’
