Nurjahan's Daughter

by Tanushree Podder

  At Mewar, Shah Jahan and his beloved wife finally found peace and happiness. The Rajputs swore to defend the prince with their lives. The Rana constructed a beautiful marble palace in the placid waters of the Pichola Lake for the comfort of his revered guests. When the emperor learnt about the impudence of the Rana, he was livid. Jahangir despatched Mahabat Khan to Mewar to capture his rebellious son. There were only two options before the Rana–either hand over Shah Jahan or fight against the Mughal forces.

  When Shah Jahan realised that Jahangir would go to any length to capture him, he decided to surrender before Mahabat Khan. He could not allow the Mughal forces to destroy the beautiful kingdom of Mewar where he had spent a full year in happiness and peace. Although the Mewar soldiers were valiant, they were no match for the emperor’s powerful army. Swallowing his pride, Shah Jahan finally wrote a letter to his father, expressing his repentance and begging pardon for all his faults. It was pointless to continue his rebellion when defeat was inevitable.

  Jahangir’s reply was that, if Shah Jahan would send his sons Dara Shikoh and Aurangzeb to court, and surrender the captured forts of Rohtas and Asir, he would be forgiven.

  ‘Damn the woman. I can see her hand behind this letter,’ Shah Jahan fumed on reading his father’s letter. His heart broke at the thought of sending his sons as hostage to Agra, and Arjumand wept endlessly, trying to stop him from acquiescing, but they both knew that it was the only way out. As a gesture of repentance he also sent offerings of jewels, arms, horses and elephants, valued at ten lakhs of rupees. The forts were handed over to Mughal commanders. Thus ended Shah Jahan’s rebellion after three years of bloodshed.

  Meanwhile, news arrived that the imperial army had been defeated at Qandahar. Shahryar returned defeated, much of his ego deflated after the failure of the campaign.

  ‘It is due to Shah Jahan’s rebellion that the campaign did not succeed,’ Nur Jahan stated, adding fuel to fire. To some extent, she was not wrong: the army and resources had been split between the Qandahar campaign and the rebellion. Jahangir, chagrined that his attempt at regaining Qandahar had come to a naught, once again, could not bring himself to forgive Shah Jahan.

  An uncomfortable peace returned to the empire. Parvez had proved himself and the emperor wondered if he should be the one to succeed to the throne. Would he be able to prove himself an able and just administrator? Jahangir consulted his empress about the matter. She dismissed the idea immediately. There was no worthier heir than Shahryar, she said. The emperor, however, did not agree with her. For the first time, it occurred to him that she was promoting her own cause rather than that of the empire.

  Nur Jahan had other things to worry about. Mahabat Khan–one of the emperor’s most trusted friends, and a skilled general–who she had been trying to suppress, had grown in stature after having subdued Shah Jahan. The trouble between the general and the empress had begun when the former had rebuked the emperor for taking orders from his wife. Mahabat Khan was opposed to the caucus that the empress had created around herself. He was most vociferous when her brothers had been appointed to important positions and given powers, while other able ministers had been sidelined. He had voiced his opinion to the emperor and assured him of all assistance if he would take up the reins of the empire in his own hands.

  ‘There are able ministers and capable soldiers still left to serve the empire. Under such circumstances, the mighty Mughal emperor has no need to resort to the advice of a woman,’ declared Mahabat Khan, disgusted with the way Nur Jahan controlled matters of the empire.

  Ashamed on hearing the rebuke, the emperor had acted in some measure on his friend’s advice for some time, but he soon fell captive to his wife’s charms and influence once again. The empress, on finding out what Mahabat Khan had done, decided that the general would need to be stripped of his power and influence.

  For several years, she denied him a promotion and pressurised the emperor into sending him for the worst campaigns, keeping him away from the court. He was driven from the Deccan to the frontiers of Afghanistan, across harsh and unfriendly terrains, wherever the most strenuous service was needed. But now, having quelled Shah Jahan’s rebellion, Mahabat Khan had not only grown in stature, he had also become close to Prince Parvez. That a legitimate heir had the backing of the emperor’s trusted friend was particularly dangerous in Nur Jahan’s eyes.

  Despite Laadli’s warnings, she appointed Mahabat Khan as the governor of Bengal so as to keep him away from Agra. Then she, along with her supporters, convinced Jahangir that Mahabat Khan was plotting against him. Mahabat Khan had remained stationed at his castle in Ranthambore with Prince Parvez despite being asked to go to Bengal. Finally, Jahangir issued a farman ordering the general to either proceed to Bengal or to come to the court at once. Deciding to challenge the absurd accusations against him, the general marched with 4000 seasoned Rajputs to the court at Agra. In the meantime, Nur Jahan had trumped up several malicious charges against Mahabat Khan, alleging that he had misappropriated large sums of money. Another ridiculous charges was that Mahabat Khan had, without royal permission, affianced his daughter to the son of Khwaja Umar Nakshbandi. The emperor was offended by this breach of protocol. He sent for the young man and threw him into the prison. Orders were given to seize whatever dowry Mahabat Khan had given to the youth and place it in the imperial treasury.

  Mahabat Khan was not the man to put up with these affronts. He could discern the empress’s hand behind the allegations and realised that she would even resort to his execution to get rid of him. Determined to teach the emperor a lesson, the general decided on a plan.

  The royal entourage–having just returned from Kashmir, and about to set out for Kabul–had set up camp near the river Jhelum. While Jahangir rested in his tent, Asaf Khan left him with a couple of attendants, and ordered the royal escorts and soldiers to cross the bridge in order to set up camp on the other side of the river. The royal harem, including Nur Jahan, had already crossed to the other side.

  Mahabat Khan had been waiting for an opportunity like this. He had never imagined that Asaf Khan would be foolish enough to leave the emperor virtually unprotected. With 5000 Rajputs, Mahabat Khan proceeded to the head of the bridge. He ordered his soldiers to burn the bridge and proceeded to the royal quarters where Jahangir was resting. The servants who were in attendance rushed to inform Jahangir of the general’s daring action. Enraged, the emperor emerged from his tent and took his seat in the royal palanquin. But as soon as he sat down, armed Rajput soldiers closed in and obstructed his path. There was no one with Jahangir but his faithful valet and a few attendants. Realising the futility of resistance, he went back to his tent. The emperor of the Mughal Empire was under house arrest.

  When the emperor did not join their camp, Nur Jahan first assumed he had gone hunting. However, she soon found out that he was being confined to his apartment by Mahabat Khan. Furious at her brother’s blunder, she summoned the chief nobles including Asaf Khan and reproached them–‘How could you allow such gross negligence to take place? You have imperilled the Emperor’s life! You must go immediately and free him from Mahabat Khan’s clutches.’

  The sun had set and the nobles, tired after the long journey, demurred. Reluctant to take on the valiant Mahabat Khan, but unable to say so, they advised that nothing could be done that evening. They assured the empress that they would embark on a rescue mission the next morning after sunrise and they would defeat the rebel.

  The next morning, impatient with the nobles’ dithering, the empress herself took charge of the situation. ‘I can’t think of a more humiliating situation when my brother, who I trusted with the security of the emperor, is not ready to rescue him. If you can’t fight Mahabat Khan, I shall do it myself.’

  Asaf Khan tried to reason with his sister: ‘Your Majesty, most of our soldiers have proceeded to Atak and only a small band remains with us. It is not prudent to take on the enemy with an inadequate number of soldiers. We will have to plan a workable strateg
y, and this will take time.’

  ‘You are a coward. I shall prove to you that the emperor can be released with a direct attack on the enemy camp.’

  Gathering her soldiers, she harangued them for their lack of courage. ‘Has the Mughal Empire turned so unfortunate that there are no brave soldiers left to defend the emperor’s honour? Shame on you, who call yourselves soldiers, brag about the prowess of your ancestors and wear the uniforms of the imperial army!’

  Prince Jai Singh was the first one to respond: his proud Rajput warriors were stung by her remarks and he promised that they would not rest till they had released the emperor from captivity. Leading the band of his valiant soldiers, the young prince charged towards the river, his sword flashing in the rising sun. Unmindful of the danger, Nur Jahan–seated on her elephant along with Laadli’s daughter and her nurse–also joined them. Her hair flying loose and her veil thrown back, she shouted at the soldiers to follow her to the other side of the river. Inspired by her command, the soldiers urged their horses into the stream. Soon soldiers, horses, camels and carriages, were in the midst of the river, jostling each other, and pressing to the opposite shore. Brandishing their swords and scimitars, they rushed to fight the soldiers of Mahabat Khan who waited on the other side of the ford. An amused Mahabat Khan, seated on his charge, watched the disorderly army advancing with the empress.

  As soon as Nur Jahan’s soldiers approached the bank in a disorderly melee, the general’s soldiers pushed forward to fight them. Soon the river was a gory mess of red, its waters covered by floating corpses. Nur Jahan tried to bring some semblance of order to her troops but they were in total disarray. Arzani began howling loudly with fright. The empress fired a salvo of arrows at the enemy with great valour. She was a good markswoman and the arrows found their target without effort. All of a sudden the nurse received an arrow in her arm and wailed loudly. With both Arzani and the nurse crying loudly, the empress found herself disconcerted. She pulled out the arrow from the nurse’s arm, staining her own garments with blood.

  Mahabat Khan’s soldiers rushed after Nur jahan’s elephant, determined to capture the empress. Her mahout had been slain and she herself began to drive the elephant and urge it into the deep water, to escape Mahabat’s soldiers. When the empress’ army saw her elephant turning back, they were confused. Spotting her bloodied garments, the soldiers assumed that she had been wounded and they began retreating.

  Wounded and angry, the empress reached the shore without her soldiers and proceeded towards the royal quarters. Mahabat Khan stopped his soldiers from restraining the empress as she made her way to the emperor’s tent. The victorious general now confined both the emperor and Nur Jahan within the royal camp, although he treated them with respect. Laadli and the other women soon joined the empress in the camp and were also treated with honour.

  Asaf Khan, who was the cause of the debacle, fled with his son and soldiers to the fort of Atak and barred the lofty gates of the fortress. Not willing to let him escape, Mahabat Khan’s soldiers attacked and captured the fort.

  With this bold coup, Mahabat Khan had imprisoned all the important persons in the empire and was the virtual ruler. But the wily Nur Jahan had not given up. Although she appeared to be spending much of her time with her granddaughter, she was working furiously with Laadli to find a way out of the imbroglio. Together they formulated a plan. Through a spy, the empress delivered a letter to her faithful eunuch, Hoshiyar, instructing him to amass an army of trustworthy soldiers and wait for her at Lahore. The efficient eunuch was able to cobble up an impressive band of 2000 soldiers of the finest kind with the lure of a fantastic salary. On her part, Nur Jahan began fanning communal passions between the two factions–Muslims and Rajputs–in Mahabat Khan’s camp. She worked one against the other, arousing fierce hatred. Besides, she knew that there were many in Mahabat Khan’s army who still nurtured loyalty to the emperor and were waiting for the right time to change sides.

  One morning, the emperor announced his decision to hold a review of the cavalry. He gave orders that all the soldiers should stand in formation in two lines stretching from the royal quarters to as far as the riverbank. He then directed one of his attendants to inform Mahabat Khan that the emperor was holding a review of the empress’ Muslim troops that day. It would be better, therefore, for the general to keep away his Rajput warriors, to avoid communal conflict between the two sets of soldiers.

  The two lines of the soldiers extended up to the river in an orderly formation. The emperor, followed by Nur Jahan, inspected the troops and the royal couple proceeded towards the river. As Jahangir reached the far end of the parade, he gave a pre-determined signal to the soldiers. Immediately, the soldiers closed the rear to block out the enemy soldiers. Using the opportunity, the royal couple escaped on a boat that had already been hidden at the bank of the river by loyal soldiers.

  Jahangir and Nur Jahan passed over the river to the fort of Rohtas, where the army amassed by Hoshiyar was waiting to receive them. It took several hours for the general to realise that the royal couple had escaped. The emperor had been captive for a hundred days; and Mahabat Khan, the great general of the mighty Mughal army, had once again been defeated by Nur Jahan. It was not likely that he would ever forget or forgive her for the trounce.

  23

  There was to be no respite for Nur Jahan, however. Shah Jahan, in a rebellious mood again, had proceeded to Thatta to test the waters before he took on the emperor’s forces once again.

  ‘If I can’t muster enough support at Thatta, I will travel to Persia to seek the assistance of Shah Abbas. He hates the emperor and will definitely help me,’ Shah Jahan confided to Arjumand when she insisted on accompanying him. ‘It is going to be a rough journey and you are not in good health. You must stay with the children at Burhanpur while I cobble up the necessary reinforcements.’

  ‘I can’t allow you to travel in this condition,’ wailed Arjumand clutching his arm. Shah Jahan had been ailing for a while: the harsh life they had been leading for the past few years had taken its toll on him. ‘Let us go back to Burhanpur together. We can stay there till you recoup.’

  ‘You don’t understand Arjumand, things are too precariously placed right now. The emperor is suffering from ill health and Nur Jahan has complete control over the empire. If anything happens to die emperor now, she will place Shahryar on the throne.’

  Despite all his wife’s misgivings, Shah Jahan set out for Thatta. But he did not get too far–the weather and his own illness changed his course. Overcome with fever and persistent weakness, he could barely ride on a horse or an elephant and was obliged to travel in a palanquin. His progress was slow and painful. Realising the wisdom in Arjumand’s advice, he determined to return to the Deccan. And then everything changed.

  Shah Jahan received the news that his elder brother, Prince Parvez, had died. He also learnt that Shahryar had been seized by a strange illness. The once handsome prince had lost his luxuriant crop of hair; even the neatly trimmed beard and eyelashes had fallen out in bunches. His skin had turned white, and prominent red patches had appeared in some places. The royal physicians were unable to diagnose the disease. The prince had taken to spending most of his time locked up in the dark, drinking wine and swallowing opium pellets, away from the curious gaze of people.

  Nothing could have heartened Shah Jahan more than this news. With Parvez out of the way, and Shahryar suffering from a peculiar malady, there was no one to stand in his path to the throne. Surely the emperor would embrace him with pleasure and forgive his sins.

  In the meantime, Mahabat Khan had been ordered by the emperor to release Asaf Khan and to march against Shah Jahan. The general, cut up with the empress who had been behind his downfall, chose to join forces with Shah Jahan. The prince was overjoyed to have the capable general on his side and greeted him with great enthusiasm. ‘Victory shall be ours,’ he declared. ‘I shall not rest till the empress is defeated and rendered powerless.’

  Alarmed at t
his dangerous collaboration between the powerful general and the mutinous prince, Nur Jahan began plotting ways to suppress them. The emperor was very ill by now, and incapable of giving any advice or support. Broken-hearted by one son’s death and another’s disfigurement, Jahangir had lost the will to live. He could barely breathe; his asthma had reached an incurable stage. Painful coughing bouts kept him awake through the night. No amount of medicine or opium could alleviate his suffering.

  ‘Nur, the Almighty beckons me. Soon, I will have to answer him for all the sins I have committed.’

  ‘Jahanpanah, you must not speak such words. You will live a hundred years, this is just a passing malady caused by inclement weather,’ Nur Jahan assured him, her heart pounding with trepidation.

  ‘Perhaps you are right. I need to get away from the foul climate of this city. I yearn for the beautiful valley of Kashmir.’

  The royal physicians echoed his sentiments. The emperor needed to recoup his strength in the healthy climes of Kashmir, they opined. Although he was in frail health, the emperor was delighted to leave for his favourite hill station. He was unable to ride on horseback and was carried in a palanquin. His sufferings were great. Sleepless and breathless with chest complaints and lung congestion, Jahangir lost all appetite for food. Nur Jahan was surprised when he even refused opium, which had been his companion for forty long years.

  Even Laadli felt sorry for him. The most powerful man in the Mughal Empire was suffering like a common man. She could only imagine the pain of a father, losing two of his sons in the prime of their youth. And out of the two who lived, one was suffering from an incurable disease and the other were baying for his blood. Even his trusted friend Mahabat Khan had deserted him and joined the seditious prince. The wheels of destiny were spinning in an adverse direction, and there seemed to be nothing that could stop them.