Shivaji

by Ranjit Desai

  Raje discussed his plans and apprised Ramdas about the forthcoming ceremony. ‘I hope you will be present for the occasion to bless us.’

  ‘You have come to invite me? My blessings are always with you,’ Samarth said, his eyes twinkling.

  ‘Samarth, does that mean you are not going to visit us?’

  ‘Do I need to? Gaga Bhatt is well versed in the scriptures and he is a master of the Vedas. What use does he have for someone like me, uneducated and with no knowledge of the sacred books? Additionally, his ego will be hurt. It is best that I do not come.’

  ‘Then what’s the use of the coronation if you are not present?’ Raje asked dejectedly.

  Samarth was overwhelmed with emotions and said, placing his hand on Raje’s shoulder, ‘Raje, we both have no value for formal affairs but you have no choice. Take this as my order—you must have the coronation ceremony. You know that whenever you need me, I will be by your side. Surrender to Lord Ram and be crowned king. Your dream will then materialize.’

  Raje touched Samarth’s feet reverently who hugged him lovingly. They were both in tears. There was no need for any words to be spoken.

  #

  Raje returned to Raigad, inspecting the camps on the way. The new market coming up at Raigad was full of merchants from Konkan, Karnatak, Marwar and Gujarat. As he climbed up the steps to the fort, he found that the fort had transformed into a new city with all the arrangements to take care of the people expected at the coronation ceremony. Raje was visibly impressed to see an elephant with a golden howdah.

  Moropant answered, seeing his quizzical expression, ‘Raje, the elephant is Lakshmi’s mascot. She is the goddess of wealth. He has to be there when she is!’

  Raje laughed. Surveying the fort, he said, ‘Moropant, this city is probably more beautiful than Alaka, the heavenly city. I thought I was a dreamer but your imagination takes the flight of an eagle. But we are all dreamers—whether Baji, Tanaji or Shiva the barber who laid their lives down for our dreams!’

  Raje was pleased to hear that his daughter Sakhu had come. He said, looking at Jijabai, ‘I am happy that Mahadji permitted her to come. He serves under the Adil Shahi court and it is gracious of him to allow her to attend.’

  On a tour of the market, set up on the fort for the visitors, Raje noticed singers, musicians, florists and traders of all kinds. He was about to enter the Jagadishwar Temple when a dancer, practising her routine, stopped on seeing Raje enter. He said, ‘Don’t stop your performance. Carry on.’

  Stepping outside, Raje said, ‘Moropant, we have attracted a large number of artists here. I have only seen the like in Mathura at the Krishna temple. I want us to patronize such artists. The people will greatly benefit from their art.’

  #

  The next morning, a visibly excited Firangoji reported to Raje: ‘I cannot believe the way the fort has been transformed. I am waiting for the day of the coronation now!’

  Raje was happy to see Firangoji. Yet, he expressed the thought which had been niggling at him. He said, ‘Firangoji, I hope the Mughal or the Adil Shahi troops do not take advantage and attack us.’

  ‘Rest assured, Raje, we have taken adequate precautions. And our men are always alert. The Mughals will not have forgotten the way they were routed the last time. They would not dare attack.’

  Seeing all his sardars assembled there, Raje was pleased. Yet, he felt the absence of Mahadji and Ekoji Raje. The day of the coronation was almost upon them. Gaga Bhatt and Balam Bhatt performed the thread ceremony for Raje. This was followed by a ceremonial marriage to Soyarabai, giving her the official status of the senior most queen. Ceremonial marriages to all other queens followed.

  The atmosphere at the fort was charged with the constant sound of clarions, kettledrums and many other instruments. Musicians and magicians enthralled the crowds each evening while the guests enjoyed sumptuous buffets. The happiness at the fort rose with the growing crescent of the moon.

  In the evening, as Raje retired to his room, he stood in the balcony for a while. The innumerable torches burnt brightly, creating a mesmerizing effect in the night. The sound of music from the dance performance at the temple was heard in the distance. In another quarter, a tambourine played. It was a night of festivities. Tired by the events of the past few days, Raje stepped into his chamber to sleep.

  #

  It was the day for the tula ceremony, the day Raje would be weighed against gold, silver and other precious stones. It was an important event, a precursor to the main coronation ceremony.

  Raje entered Jijabai’s quarters and touched her feet. Jijabai held his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. Raje was upset at seeing her in tears. Before he could say anything, Jijabai took a little black lamp and touched it to his cheeks to ward off the evil eye.

  Raje laughed, ‘Maa saheb, my beard is enough to ward off the evil eye.’

  ‘Now don’t turn everything into a joke,’ Jijabai chided lovingly, as she wiped her finger on her hair.

  Along with the queens, Raje entered the chamber created especially for the tula ceremony. At Gaga Bhatt’s signal, Raje stepped into the pan and sat down as the Brahmins, while chanting mantras, poured gold coins into the other pan. Soon, the pan rose, balancing the two. The total number of coins in the other pan exceeded sixteen thousand. To the sound of drums and horns, Raje stepped off the weighing scale and indicated that the coins be distributed among the Brahmins.

  The tula ceremony was carried out every day till the day of the coronation. He was weighed in brass, copper, silver, articles of daily use and even vegetables! It was a way to ward off the evil. Thousands of Brahmins at the fort and at Pachad were the beneficiaries. For seven days, the ceremonies went on, finally leading to a day of break. The day of coronation was now eagerly awaited.

  #

  The sun rose on the twelfth day of the month of Jyeshtha. As Raje woke to pray to the sun god, he could see the forts of Torna and Rajgad. The coronation was being held at Raigad but the seeds of the dream of Swaraj had been sown at Rajgad. Raje folded his hands in obeisance to the fort where his journey had begun. It was going to be a hectic evening, beginning with the inauguration of the throne, meeting the sardars, and various other events which would go on till the wee hours of the morning.

  Along with Soyarabai, Raje stepped into the pandal where a silver-coated oblong chair, made from the wood of the fig tree, called oudumbar, had been installed. Raje, wearing a spotless white dress, was to be bathed in panchamrita, a mixture of water, milk, curd, honey and ghee. As he sat in the chair, Soyarabai and Sambhaji stood next to him. The eight ministers, the ashta pradhans, occupied their respective seats. Moropant stood on the eastern side, holding a pitcher of ghee, while Hambirrao Mohite stood on the southern side, holding a pitcher of milk. On cue from Gaga Bhatt, the bathing ceremony began with Balam Bhatt pouring the waters of the major rivers over Raje. The Brahmins chanted the mantras as the audience watched in awe. Jijabai, unable to see clearly due to her age, was soaking in each moment as she tried to wipe the tears from her eyes.

  By midnight, the bathing ceremony was over. Raje was shown his face in a vessel filled with ghee. After putting on auspicious clothes and having worshipped the weapons, he accepted a shield, sword and a bow and arrow offered to him before he stepped into the hall again.

  The moment to occupy the throne was approaching rapidly and everyone present waited with bated breath. Raje entered the pandal with Soyarabai and Sambhaji and bowed to touch Jijabai’s feet. Overjoyed and at a loss for words, she gently touched Raje’s face and then cracked her knuckles to ward off the evil eye.

  As Raje moved slowly towards the golden throne, the sardars, dignitaries, guests and everyone present rose to receive him. In the middle of the room was a raised quadrangular pedestal covered with carpets embroidered with gold and silver threads. The golden throne stood in the middle and was visible to everyone.

  Just before dawn, as the eastern horizon turned golden, Raje’s ashta pradhans l
ed him to the royal assembly. Men holding spears led the group. Raje stood on the first step to the throne and he had hardly glanced at Jijabai sitting to the left of the throne when Gaga Bhatt started chanting the hymns. The other Brahmins in attendance joined in.

  Raje moved slowly, taking one measured step at a time, towards the throne. At the final step Gaga Bhatt offered Raje a golden sceptre carved with the head of a lion. Raje accepted it, touching it reverently to his forehead and then, taking care not to touch the throne with his feet, sat down gently. Sitting in veerasana, the warrior pose, with his sword to his right, Raje looked the very image of a king. The tilak on his forehead, his long aquiline nose, his sharp piercing eyes as they scanned the crowd and his majestically tapering beard—all added to the allure of his persona, which those in the assembly could not take their eyes off. The sun, as if in recognition of the new king, rose in the eastern sky showering its light as blessings.

  Gaga Bhatt, while continuing to chant mantras, took a gem-studded parasol and held it over Raje’s head. As the chanting of the mantras was over, a silence descended over the hall for a brief while as people recovered their breath. The next moment, they heard Gaga Bhatt’s voice as it reverberated across the hall:

  The great leader of the Kshatriyas,

  The saviour of cows and Brahmins,

  Hail thee, the one who occupies the throne

  Shrimant Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj!

  The entire audience repeated the words in a loud cheer. Immediately, the dancers took stage.

  The news the Chhatrapati, the sovereign king of the Marathas had been crowned, would soon reach people everywhere in no time.

  Jijabai got up, unmindful of the tears flowing down her cheeks. Her body shivered as she reached Raje who asked, ‘What can I do for you, Maa saheb?’

  Jijabai looked at Putlabai for a brief moment and said, ‘My dear, take me away from here. I fear my son may get affected by my own evil eye!’ Jijabai’s sobs were now uncontrollable. A dream, which she had harboured for years together, had come true. It was beyond belief.

  As Raje sat on the throne with the priests sprinkling the holy water on him, the sun rose majestically in the sky. It was time for the darkness to be dispelled from the earth.

  #

  Moropant stepped forward to make the first offering and showered Raje with eight thousand hons. Gaga Bhatt, Sambhaji and Moropant sat on the pedestal of the throne as the other sardars came one by one to offer their presents in accordance with their rank, prestige and capacity to donate. A raised hand attracted Raje’s attention. It was the English envoy Oxenden, accompanied by his interpreter Narayan Shenavi. With a nod, Raje indicated for him to step forward.

  Oxenden had come with many gifts—an English chair, a diamond-studded aigrette, a few diamond rings and large pearls. In return, Raje gave a robe of honour to Oxenden.

  It was time to visit the temples now. Led by the Senapati, Hambrirrao Mohite, who had taken the place of the mahout, Raje sat in the golden howdah on an elephant and made his way through towards the temple. The trumpets and conch shells announced the beginning of the procession.

  The crowd, seeing the newly crowned Chhatrapati, could not contain themselves as they cheered, throwing gulal and coloured powder on each other. Holding their palms together, they looked at Shivaji’s new avatar. The elephant was made to sit just outside Jijabai’s quarters for Raje to get down. An impatient Jijabai rushed forward to receive him. As Raje put his head reverently on Jijabai’s feet, she exclaimed, ‘Shivba! Raje!’

  Raje said, as he held a tray covered with a silk cloth, ‘Maa saheb, I grew up under your protection. It is your blessings and love that made me what I am today. I cannot give you anything to match what you have done for me. But please accept these as a token of my reverence. Please touch them to show your acceptance.’

  Jijabai’s lips quivered as she touched the tray with shivering hands. She said, tears flowing down her cheeks, ‘Shivba, I was never sure if I would see this day. At your birth, the astrologer had predicted that you would fulfil all my dreams. He had assured me that my days of calamities were over. Now that my dream has been fulfilled, I am blessed. I am free to die now!’

  ‘Maa saheb, for god’s sake, don’t speak thus!’

  ‘Don’t worry, Shivba. I have died a thousand times before now. You have put yourself in danger so many times so far! Each time you left on a campaign, I would pray at the Lord’s feet. Fear would literally kill me. There were times I wondered whether I would be able to endure the fear.’

  Embracing Jijabai, Raje said, ‘Maa saheb, you don’t have to endure fear anymore. If anything happens to you, this coronation would be useless’

  Overwhelmed with emotions, mother and son hugged each other.

  #

  Shivaji Raje sat in his quarters, lost in thought. The coronation had come with added responsibility. A hundred thoughts raced through his mind as he contemplated his next steps to consolidate his empire. Outside, those who had come to attend the ceremony were being entertained by magicians from Bengal, and musicians and dancers who had come from different parts of the country.

  Hearing someone clearing their throat to attract his attention, Raje turned. It was Soyarabai. Raje smiled and said, ‘Come in! Why are you standing at the door?’

  ‘You seem to be lost in your thoughts. Did you realize I have been here for a few minutes?’

  ‘Soyara, here is a casket of perfumes which I ordered from Karnatak. You had asked me to get some perfume when I had gone to Agra. I could not get it then and these are now for you.’

  ‘Oh, you remembered!’

  ‘A Chhatrapati cannot afford to break his promise, can he?’ Raje asked, smiling.

  Soyarabai noticed a diamond ring on Raje’s finger and asked, ‘Where did you get this ring?’

  ‘Oh, this? It was presented to me by the English envoy.’

  ‘How come our diamonds don’t shine so much?’

  ‘Soyara, diamonds shine when they are cut and polished. Else, a diamond is a like an ordinary stone. For that matter, the human mind too is like a diamond. It shines only when it is sharpened by wisdom and practical knowledge.’

  ‘Do you mean to say that my mind is not sharp like a diamond?’ Soyarabai taunted, her anger plain.

  Raje was pained at her reaction. He said, ‘Soyara, you need to control your anger. You are now the chief queen and you must shoulder your responsibilities well.’

  At that moment Rajaram and Sambhaji entered the room.

  Raje said, addressing Rajaram, ‘I did not see you during the coronation ceremony. Where were you?’

  ‘He was asleep,’ Soyarabai added hurriedly. ‘He could not have stayed awake the whole night.’

  Rajaram said, looking at his mother, ‘No, I did not sleep at all!’

  Raje was surprised and asked, ‘Bal Raje, where were you then?’

  Soyarabai did not know how to deflect the conversation. Before she could speak, Rajaram said, ‘Aai saheb did not allow me to attend and was in the Sai Mahal.’

  Raje looked at Soyarabai, astonished by Rajaram’s answer.

  Soyarabai replied angrily, ‘What else did you expect me to do? Sambhaji would have been there, next to you, as the prince. What was Rajaram supposed to do? Stand like an ordinary soldier? It is better that he did not attend the ceremony than get humiliated.’

  Raje was stunned. He shouted, ‘Enough, Rani saheb! Mind your tongue!’

  Soyarabai, throwing the casket of perfume on the floor in rage, stormed out of the room.

  #

  Shivaji now got busy organizing his council of ministers. Firangoji took leave to return to Bhupalgad. All the eight ministers, Moropant, Annaji, Hambirrao, Trayambakrao, Ramchandrapant, Dattajipant, Raghunathpant and Nirajipant were in attendance. Raje was keen to induct Balaji into his council but he refused and instead requested that he be given the post of his secretary.

  Raje agreed and said, looking at Moropant, ‘You know, Balaji is very
shrewd. He knows that the pen is perhaps mightier than the sword. He has chosen to be my secretary!’

  Remembering something, Raje paused and said, ‘Please bring Madari here.’

  Those in the assembly were surprised to hear Raje call for his Muslim servant. Raje said, sensing their confusion, ‘You know, when I was planning my escape from Agra, it was Hiroji who impersonated me and Madari, who knew how to take care of me. They both knew they might be killed but they chose to help me to escape. I need to honour him today.’

  At that moment Madari entered the court. Raje stepped forward and took him to the throne saying, ‘Madari, it is your sacrifice and love that has allowed me to be crowned king. This throne, weighing thirty-two maunds, is your responsibility now!’

  Madari could not believe that he had been given this task! He was overwhelmed with emotions and left with tears in his eyes.

  Gaga Bhatt said, getting up from his seat, ‘Raje, there is one more thing I would like you to do—our almanacs should start a new year today, that of Shivaji, called Shivashaka.’

  Raje approved of the same and addressed Krishnaji, the astrologer, ‘Please ensure that the almanac is accurate and that you prepare a treatise on the astronomical periods.’

  Krishnanji looked confused and Raje said, ‘A lot of Persian words and terms are being used in the almanacs. We must start using our own language in our official correspondence and in court.’

  Gaga Bhatt was pleased. He added jocularly, ‘So you are now going to spend time creating a dictionary.’

  ‘I did not mean it in jest, Gaga Bhatt. Now that we have a council of ministers, I need to ensure that they take the decisions rather than depend on me. The kingdom cannot be managed by me alone. We have to expand our kingdom now and we need all the support we can get.’