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Nurjahan's Daughter

Page 31

by Tanushree Podder


  ‘I loved the emperor. I really did. People said vicious things–they said I loved the crown more than the man. That’s not true.’

  Laadli turned away. She had thought the same herself many times.

  ‘Please listen, Laadli. I cannot meet my maker unless I have confessed everything,’ she said, moving restlessly on the bed, her mind restive with a raging fever.

  ‘I understand,’ whispered Laadli, soothing her mother’s brow as she dabbed her forehead with a scented cloth.

  ‘That...that young artist...the one you loved...’ the voice tapered off.

  ‘Imraan,’ whispered Laadli, her voice choking with emotions. It had been such a long time since she had uttered that name aloud.

  ‘Yes, Imraan. I could never have allowed you to wed a commoner Laadli,’ Meherunnisa said agitatedly. ‘I...did you know that I had him killed?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’ She felt sick.

  ‘You knew! All these years...you knew that I was responsible for your lover’s murder!’

  ‘In my heart, I had always known my romance was doomed. Benazir warned me repeatedly, but I couldn’t help it. I loved Imraan, and foolishly I wanted to believe that we could get away with it. But I knew that you would not allow him to live. Love happened to me despite everything and I am happy it did. Those few months were the happiest of my life. I have never known more joy than those moments we spent together. My only regret is that he lost his life because of me,’ Laadli’s eyes misted.

  ‘My poor child. I am sorry.’ A trembling hand reached out for Laadli.

  ‘Everyone has the right to happiness. You, of all the people in the world, should know what it is to love. You found your happiness with the emperor...Tell me Ammi, did you ever love my father?’

  ‘I do not want to answer your question,’ her mother whispered petulantly.

  ‘You must–I have the right to know the truth.’

  ‘The truth is that I was married to him under pressure from Shahenshah Akbar.’ There was bitterness in the voice.

  ‘So, it is true that Prince Salim was in love with you before you were married off to Abba.’ There was sadness ir Laadli’s voice. ‘Was that why you married your husband’s murderer?’

  ‘Badshah Jahangir did not murder your Abba,’ said the empress, but Laadli suspected that she did not quite believe her own statement.

  ‘Anyway, what option did we have? How else would I have brought you up? There are compromises one has to make in life. I made some too.’

  ‘You were a good seamstress and a designer. We could have made a good living,’ cried Laadli. ‘You wanted to be the empress and that is the truth. All your life you wanted to be queen; that was your dream, wasn’t it? And it was more important to you than me.’

  In her heart, Laadli knew this was no time to talk of these things, but she couldn’t stop herself. Words tumbled out of her mouth, unrestrained. The hot lava of her cached emotions poured into the room.

  ‘That’s not true, Laadli, my child. I always loved you more than anyone or anything else. I only wanted the best for you.’

  ‘Or for yourself.’

  The room was still, save for the crackling of the fire in the brazier. Two pairs of feverish eyes accosted each other. ‘You must hate me,’ whispered Meherunnisa.

  Hot tears rolled down Laadli’s eyes. All the sorrow she had locked in her heart after Imraan’s death broke loose. She wanted to hate her mother, but she couldn’t. The frail woman lying helplessly before her was to be pitied, not hated.

  She shook her head. ‘Is it possible for anyone to hate her mother? How can I hate someone who has carried me in her womb for nine months? Nothing you did can alter the fact that you are my mother. Besides, I can’t forget the days at Burdwan when I mattered more to you than anything else. The memory of those beautiful years of my childhood have carried me through the long nights of my grief.’

  Tears of remorse rolled down the parched skin on the gaunt face. Outside, the wind howled mercilessly, thrashing the windows with ferocity.

  ‘Forgive me, my child. I could never be a good mother to you. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me before I die,’ the voice implored.

  ‘Don’t talk of death. You will live a long time yet. Don’t you want to see Arzani’s children?’

  ‘Arzani’s children! I am a greedy woman to want to hold her baby in my arms, but my maker beckons.’

  A soft sigh escaped from the emaciated body. Moments later the head rolled to a side. Delivered from her guilt, the empress passed away. With a sob, Laadli hugged the wasted body.

  The remains of the empress were interred in Dil Khusha gardens, where rested the remains of her beloved husband. ‘Bury me near the emperor,’ Meherunnisa had instructed Laadli. In her last days, she had marked the spot for herself. ‘I must lie under the shadow of my master. With him watching over me, I shall not be afraid.’

  She had even written the verse that she wanted inscribed on her grave:

  ‘Bur muzaarey maan ghureebaan ney chiraaghey ney guley. Ney

  purey purwaanaa soazud, ney suddaayey bulbuley’

  ‘On the grave of this traveller be so good as to light no lamps

  nor strew any roses. This will ensure that the wings of moths

  do not get singed and that nightingales will not sigh and weep

  and lament’

  For Laadli, it was as though she could finally breathe. Her last link with royalty had been laid to rest. She was just another middle-aged woman–no more, no less. Ironically, she looked forward to living the rest of her life, alone. No fetters, no regalia nor expectations–the beginning of a long and lonely life.

  Epilogue

  No one knows what happened to Laadli Begum after Nur Jahan’s death. No epic was written about her, nor was she the heroine of any saga. Unwritten, unfeted and unrecognised, the reluctant princess had spent her time on earth embroiled in the intrigues of an ambitious mother. If she bore grudges against the empress, she camouflaged them well in the deep vaults of her heart. Her loyalty and dedication towards her mother was unflinching, to the end.

  History is heartless. It records facts as historians perceive them. It has no room for emotions and the intangible. Old monarchs slip into oblivion as new ones emerge. The magic wand of power passes from frail hands to the strong ones and historians are human too. The once feared and feted Nur Jahan simply dissolved into the mist as soon as the spotlight shifted to Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal. History merely states that Nur Jahan lived a quiet life after the demise of Jahangir, at Lahore. She was later buried at Shahdara, where rested the remains of her indolent husband. It describes the unpretentiousness of her tomb as contrasted to the grand mausoleum of her husband.

  Nur Jahan survived her husband by eighteen years, and these were spent in quietude, far away from the Mughal court. She had a generous pension to live a comfortable life. Shah Jahan was anything but miserly while granting her monies. But her creativity as a designer continued to delight the denizens of Lahore.

  For herself, she desired just twenty-five yards of earth for a simple burial, nothing more. It is said that Nur Jahan, in a communique to Shah Jahan, had expressed her desire to be buried under the shadow of the tomb of Jahangir. She had also marked the twenty-five square yards where her body could be buried. Her humility towards the end of her life came from the spiritual disposition she had acquired in the company of her sedate daughter.

  Nur Jahan’s final resting place was once a beautiful mausoleum filled with cypress trees, and blooms of tulips, roses, and jasmine. Fountains cooled the place with sprays of water and water channels quartered the gardens. There are accounts of an octagonal tower on each corner as well as a pavilion. The interior had arched and columned galleries through which sunlight filtered in gently on the tombs. The structure has since been stripped of its stone cladding, and the garden was irreparably damaged when the British cut a railway line late in the nineteenth century between the tombs of Nur Jahan and her brother, Asaf
Khan. Today, her tomb is a sorry sight; hardly the place for the celebrated beauty who wielded so much power and was the de facto ruler of the mighty Mughal empire. It stands forlorn, desolate and uncared for, stripped of its original decorative work and pomp.

  What happened to Laadli after Nur Jahan’s death? No one really knows. She had never figured in the list of the rich and the famous; the mousy daughter of a mighty empress has no place in history. Laadli died unsung; her sacrifices unrecognised.

  It is a quirk of fate that she was laid to rest beside her mother. The two women had shared an uneasy relationship for most of their lives. An empress, who was insensitive to her daughter’s feelings, shares her final resting place with a daughter who was too timid to protest against the wrongs heaped on her. Laadli’s austere tomb lies within the premises of Jahangir’s mausoleum, a man she hated till the very end. Does the desolate spirit of the reluctant princess baulk at the company she is forced to share, or is it at peace lying near the two people who played such crucial roles in her life?

  Throughout their lives, Nur Jahan and Laadli remained diametrically opposed to each other in thoughts and deeds; in death they remain close to each other, cocooned in their respective graves under the same roof, sharing the same rays of sunlight that filter into the vault.

  Glossary

  abbajaan : father

  ahadis : royal elite guards

  aigrette : large ornate pin used to decorate the turban

  alekum salaam : acknowledgment of greetings

  ammijaan : mother

  asharfis : coins used during Mughal period

  apa : elder sister

  attar : perfume

  badi ammi : grandmother

  badshah : emperor

  baradari : pavilion

  bawarchi : chef

  begum : a title used by ladies of class; also meaning wife in some cases.

  cabaya : robe

  caftan : long, flowing robe-like garment

  champa : frangipani

  chadar : deep-throated marble chutes inlaid with coloured marble

  charbagh : a type of Mughal garden

  chaugan : polo

  chaupar : a form of chess

  choli : short, usually backless blouse worn over the ghagra

  chulahs : oven made of clay

  churidar : tight trousers

  durries : rugs

  dams : currency used during early Mughal era

  dargah : place of worship, usually the tomb of a venerated saint.

  dastarkhan : carpeted arrangement made for dining on the ground.

  divan : a low bed

  diwan : superintendent of the household

  diwan-é-aam : hall of public audience

  diwan-é-khas : hall of private audience

  fargal : jacket

  farman : royal decree

  firanghee : foreigner

  ganjifa : playing cards

  ghagra : long, voluminous skirt

  ghusalkhana : bathroom

  hakim : physician

  hammamgah : royal bath chamber

  houri : angel

  huzoor : sir

  jagirdar : landlord

  jaali : delicate fretwork done on marble or sandstone, usually a network of geometric design. Surface ornamentation, known as arabesque, included the use of plants or geometric motifs represented in a fancifully combined pattern peculiar to Islamic art. Generally constructed in the palaces to afford privacy.

  jagir : estate

  jahanpanah : protector of the world

  jannat : paradise

  jharokha : balcony

  kafila : caravan

  kameez : long, knee-length shirt worn over tight trousers.

  kasam : promise

  khilat : robe of honour; the typical Mughal khilat was a sumptuous set of clothes. The 'core symbol was a cloak which was the outermost, most visible garment of courtly life' (Gordon 1996, 225), but the khilat could include a turban, long coat, gown, jacket, shawl, sash, trousers, shirt, and scarf (Sarkar 1961, 144; Sen 1998, 33). The investiture conferred titles, responsibilities, and rewards, but it also entailed obedience. Protocol demanded that one immediately don the khilat.

  kornish : courtesy shown by bowing thrice

  khwabgah : royal bed chamber

  lehenga : ankle-length pleated skirt

  leheriya : a type of pattern

  mansabdar : office holder; mansbadars were divided into 33 classes, each member of each class being supposed to furnish a certain number of cavalry to the imperial army. The three highest grades, 'commanders' of from 7000 to 10, 000 were ordinarily reserved for the princes. The other mansabs ranged from ten to 5,000.

  mansab : estate

  mans : unit of weight

  minakari : enamel work on gold

  mallika : queen

  mojris : embroidered slippers

  mushaira : poetry contest

  mazaar : tomb

  nazarband : under house arrest, in custody

  nazrana : gift

  nazm : couplet

  paan : betel leaf

  nikah : marriage according to Muslim laws

  nissar : special kinds of coins

  odhni : veil

  Panchatantra : Indian fables

  pir/paighambars : holy men and saints

  qaba : robe like garment

  qamargah : a form of hunt devised by the Mughul emperors wherein the beaters and soldiers round up the wild beasts within a circle of a few kilometres, by beating drums and closing in gradually.

  ustaad : teacher

  razai : quilt

  reham : mercy

  riyaya : subjects

  shabda bhedi : shooting an animal by the sound it makes while drinking water

  shahenshah : king of kings

  shah begum : chief queen

  shama : candle

  salaam alekum : greetings

  shatranj : chess

  sheesh mahal : palace of mirrors

  shehzada : prince

  shehzadi : princess

  sherwani : long, pleated shirt

  shikar : hunt

  shikaras : small boats

  surkh : a unit of measure

  zardosi : a kind of embroidery

  zari : golden thread

  zenana : harem

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Book Information

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Glossary

  Back Cover

 

 

 


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