Escape from Harem

by Tanushree Podder

  ‘No… ,’ screamed Bahar. ‘I am not going back.’

  ‘In that case we will have to arrest you and take you back by force.’

  As he advanced towards the couple, Shaukat rushed at them with his sword and ran it through the nearest soldier. The kahars who were resting under the shade of a tree, not willing to be involved, ran for their lives. Zafar had also drawn out his sword. Clash of steel punctured the silence of the mausoleum. Zeenat watched in horror as blood stained the marble floor. Helpless, she watched as the soldiers continued to slash their blades into flesh.

  One of the soldiers grabbed Bahar’s arm and was dragging her towards the exit. Zafar ran towards him brandishing his sword, but was stopped by another soldier who stabbed him in the back. He staggered and fell on his face, his face contorted with pain. Freeing herself from her captor, Bahar screamed and fell over her lover protectively. The soldiers hacked away at the two of them. Screaming with fury, Zeenat stepped out of the dargah and began running towards them, stumbling over the steps, her veil flying. There was mayhem everywhere.

  All of a sudden Salamat Khan emerged from the clump of trees beyond the dargah. Brandishing his sword he ran towards the soldiers with a loud cry. The soldiers, taken by surprise, turned to face the fiery Pathan who was wielding his sword with astonishing expertise. Stunned at the ferocity of his attack one of the wounded soldiers fled towards his horse and rode away while the others fought a losing battle with Salamat Khan. Like a man possessed, he mowed through them, his blood-spattered clothes standing stark against the background of pristine marble structure. In a few minutes everything was over.

  Salamat and Zeenat rushed towards Bahar, who was grievously injured. Breathing shallowly, she was moaning with pain. Tears streaming down her face, Zeenat sat on the ground cradling her mistress while Salamat sat silently near Zafar’s body, praying for his soul. At one corner lay the body of the faithful eunuch. Stabbed through his heart, Shaukat had died almost instantly. The bodies of the three soldiers lay scattered around them. There was blood all around.

  ‘Let us take her to a safe place,’ screamed Zeenat bringing Salamat back to his senses. ‘She needs help.’

  They carried Bahar under a tree and Zeenat ran to fetch some water. She sprinkled it over the concubine’s face, her vision clouded by tears. For a minute Bahar opened her eyes, her gaze crystal clear.

  ‘Leave me here. Run, Zeenat. They will be back again,’ Bahar’s voice was laboured.

  ‘No, no, I am not leaving you here.’

  ‘I command you… go.’

  ‘No, I won’t,’ reiterated Zeenat.

  ‘Salamat, take her away. Go to the Deccan and seek refuge at Shahjahan’s court.’

  The effort of speaking weakened her. Her lips mumbled silently as she closed her eyes again. Salamat rushed around trying to find some help.

  A while later, Bahar muttered. ‘Go Zeenat, save yourself.’

  Zeenat continued to cry and shake her head adamantly. ‘I am not leaving you to die here.’

  Bahar raised her hand towards her but it dropped before reaching her face. The head rolled to a side and the breathing stopped. Startled, Zeenat screamed.

  A dream of freedom and new life had died a violent death.

  Darkness fell swiftly. There was no time to grieve. The wounded soldier would have narrated the happenings at the dargah and soon the imperial soldiers would be closing in.

  With a shake of his head, Salamat gestured towards the horizon. ‘It will be difficult to find our way in the dark. We must leave this place now.’

  ‘We can’t leave without burying the mistress and Zafar.’

  ‘If we wait to bury them the soldiers will bury us alive with them. We should just leave.’

  ‘How can we leave them here in the wilderness for the wild animals to devour their dead bodies? I won’t.’

  ‘Be reasonable, I love them as much as you do but wisdom dictates that we leave right away.’

  ‘I won’t…,’ Zeenat shrieked hysterically. ‘Where were you when the bloodshed was taking place? You profess to love your master. What held you back when he was being murdered?’

  ‘He had ordered me to attend to the horses. I was taking them to the water trough when I heard the commotion. I came as soon as I could.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘It took just a few minutes but everything was over by then.’

  The look of disbelief on her face saddened him. ‘You don’t believe me?’

  ‘How does it matter? It is you who has to answer to Allah ultimately. Anyway, I am not leaving them here until they are buried. You can leave if you want.’

  Exasperated, Salamat glanced towards the tiny mosque located at a little distance from the dargah. There was sure to be someone in the mosque. Leaving Zeenat with the bodies, he rode for help.

  A wild looking fakir with blazing eyes, flowing beard and unkempt hair was seated under a banyan tree in front of the mosque. Salamat told him about the dead bodies and begged him to bury them.

  ‘If we do not leave immediately, the soldiers will kill us.’

  ‘And if you leave, the bodies will be torn apart by the jackals and hyenas,’ the fakir looked deep into his eyes. ‘How much did you love your master?’

  ‘I loved him deeply but I love the lady more,’ stated the burly Pathan truthfully. ‘If I can’t take her away, she will be killed along with me.’

  ‘And she will not go because she loved her mistress more than she loves you,’ the fakir laughed like a maniac.

  ‘You will have to come with me and convince her that you will take care of the burial and perform all the rituals.’

  ‘And why would I do that?’

  ‘I will give you all the money I have.’

  ‘I have no use for money,’ the fakir smiled.

  ‘It will pay for the burial and maybe you could feed some hungry mouths for a few days.’

  ‘Now, that is a proposal I might consider.’

  They rode back to where Zeenat sat with the bodies. She looked at them through her tears and Salamat’s heart went out to her.

  The fakir assured her that he would provide a decent burial to Bahar and Zafar.

  ‘Go, your destination is far and the road is fraught with danger. Do not grieve over the past, look towards the future,’ he advised her.

  She stole one last look at Bahar’s face before leaving with Salamat. Like a zombie she moved on leaden feet, the concubine’s screams echoing in her ears.

  Thirteen

  Darkness crept stealthily on the craggy landscape as the two galloped towards an unknown destination. Exhausted emotionally and physically, she clung to Salamat as they rode into the darkness. Her mind was numb with shock and pain. She remembered Bahar’s exhilaration at the thought of beginning a new life with Zafar, far away from the royal harem. So much had happened in the last few hours. Their dreams of escaping to a happy life had turned into a nightmare.

  Warily, she rested her head on Salamat’s broad shoulders. The warmth of his body was reassuring as they galloped, dishevelled and hungry, through the night. There were dense forests looming on both sides of the path. Icy fingers of fear moved down her spine and she moved closer to her saviour. His fatigued stallion pushed forward loyally.

  It seemed hours before they spotted some lights in the distance. Salamat pointed at them with relief. ‘We may find a kind soul who will provide us with a shelter and some food.’

  It was like finding an oasis in the desert after days of sweltering heat. The few mud houses with thatched roofs beckoned them enticingly. Salamat goaded his horse to a faster gallop towards the flickering lights.

  As they neared the village, the lights grew brighter. A few men could be spotted moving around the narrow lanes along the mud houses. They halted at the periphery of the village.

  Sore after the rough ride, Zeenat was grateful to slip down. Her legs were trembling after the exertion and she wanted to stretch her aching limbs. Tethering the horse, Salamat walked towards her. ‘You
must stay out of sight, near the tree. I will go and find out if the villagers are friendly.’

  Tired, she walked towards the large banyan tree and stood behind its thick trunk. After a while, he returned with a big grin on his face. ‘We are lucky; I have discovered a small sarai which will shelter us for the night.’

  ‘I am hungry,’ she moaned.

  ‘While you are freshening up, I will go and buy some food. Come, this way.’

  The sarai was a single-storey structure with four bare rooms. The sarai attendant allotted them two rooms and provided some hay for the horse. A while later, he brought them some naans and kebabs. To the hungry pair the food tasted divine.

  She slept fitfully through the night. Nightmares of the murders flitted through the mind making her restless. Deep lines of exhaustion lined her face when she woke up the next morning. One look at Salamat Khan’s face and she knew he had suffered the same fate. A haunted look covered his features.

  ‘If the weather stays good, it will take us at least ten days to ride to the Deccan. I have managed to buy some food for the road and a mare for you to ride on,’ he told her.

  ‘Is it safe to travel in daylight?’ she asked concerned.

  ‘Not really! But this village is too close to the capital for comfort. The soldiers will be combing the entire area and may arrive here any moment. It is best we leave. We have to keep a few leaps ahead of them.’

  ‘Do you think they know we are headed towards the Deccan?’

  ‘I guess it is the most logical conclusion.’

  ‘In that case they will inform all the posts on the route.’

  ‘Yes, that’s a risk we will have to take. The only thing we could do is to take the circuitous and most difficult route to the south to throw them off the trail.’

  They travelled through dense forests and uninhabited rough terrain, halting during the hottest hours to steal some rest. Their journey would begin at dusk and end by dawn, slipping quietly through hamlets and villages, avoiding the major roads and highways. They clung to the anonymity of the shadows, jungles, hills, and ravines. As they went farther from the capital, a sense of false security began building up in Zeenat.

  On the third day of their escape, they were elated to notice the lights of a hamlet.

  ‘We can halt here for the night,’ Salamat said, dismounting near the clump of trees outside the hamlet. As a precautionary measure he instructed her to stay with the horses while he scouted around for a place to stay.

  He rushed back in a few minutes. ‘Let us get out of here, fast,’ he whispered. ‘The place is crawling with soldiers.’

  ‘Are they looking for us?’

  ‘I really can’t say,’ said Salamat Khan, ‘but I would not like to take any chances.’

  ‘I can’t ride any more,’ cried Zeenat. ‘I am very tired.’

  Her body was aching with the exertion of the past three days.

  ‘I have an idea,’ said Salamat after a while. ‘We should disguise ourselves. The soldiers are looking for a young woman and a burly Pathan. If you were to dress up like a boy and I shaved off my beard, we could throw them off the trail.’

  ‘Will it work?’

  ‘The soldiers have not seen us. They don’t know what we look like. All they know is that a woman and a soldier are on the run. They wouldn’t suspect a man and a boy.’

  ‘Where will we find clothes for me?’

  ‘We will have to continue our journey till we reach the next village.’

  ‘Can we rest somewhere for the night?’

  ‘It has to be in the wilderness and you know it will be dangerous.’

  It was almost morning when they found an abandoned mosque.

  Leaving Zeenat there, Salamat rode out to find food.

  He came back after a long time with food and some coarse garments. For a moment Zeenat did not recognize the clean-shaven Salamat with short hair. He looked so different.

  ‘What took you so long? I was so worried and scared,’ complained Zeenat.

  ‘Don’t worry I will not desert you,’ laughed Salamat. ‘I had to ride quite a distance to the nearest village.’

  They ate the food he had brought and then she dressed up in the clothes Salamat had bought.

  Wearing the large turban and the loose pajamas, she looked like a handsome teenaged boy.

  ‘You look really nice,’ Salamat complimented.

  ‘So do you.’

  ‘From now, I am Inayatullah and you are my nephew, Anwar. We are travelling to the south to attend a wedding.’

  ‘How exciting!’ she exclaimed. ‘I will try to remember my new name.’

  The clean-shaven look suited him better than the beard. It softened his features and made him look more handsome.

  The dangers they faced together had brought them closer. Zeenat could read each and every emotion on her companion’s face. She noticed the way his eyes crinkled up with mirth during moments of light-hearted banter; the manner in which his brows knitted up during moments of tension; and the tightness in his jaws that reflected suppressed anger. Sometimes, she watched him sleep. In repose, the lines on his forehead vanished, substituted by smoothness. She felt a peculiar tenderness for him.

  Am I falling in love with him, she asked herself. It must be the closeness brought about by shared experiences, she finally decided.

  One night as they were passing a valley fringed with sparse forest, they came across a band of dacoits. ‘Stop,’ ordered the leader brandishing his sword. ‘Hand us all your valuables and you will not be harmed.’

  Salamat Khan laughed out loud. ‘Do we look as though we possess valuables?’ he asked.

  The dacoits looked them over and decided that he was telling the truth. Days of travel had made them look like impoverished vagabonds. Their faces grimy and clothes torn, the two of them appeared hungry and forlorn.

  ‘Where are you going at this time of the night?’ asked the leader. ‘Don’t you know that the forests beyond are infested with robbers and desperadoes?’

  ‘We have no choice. The emperor’s soldiers are following us.’

  ‘Have you committed a crime?’ asked the dacoit.

  ‘Will you help us if we told you our story?’ Salamat decided to put his cards on the table.

  ‘It depends on your story.’

  Salamat did not want to reveal Zeenat’s identity. He was not sure how the dacoits would react once they learned that there was a woman amidst them in the forest. He told them the story of his master and the emperor’s concubine and about their escape from Agra to seek asylum at Shahjahan’s court. He narrated the details about the attack at Fatehpur Sikri and how both Zafar and Bahar were killed by the soldiers, but skipped the part about Zeenat. ‘My nephew and I were a party in the escape plans. It is because of our involvement that the royal soldiers are hounding us. If they catch us our death is certain.’

  After a brief pause he added, ‘Now you know why we have to travel through forests at night.’

  The dacoits looked at each other. It was not difficult to believe Salamat’s story. They held an impromptu conference in hushed tones and then the leader came forward. ‘We believe your story. The grief of your master’s death is visible on your face. It was really tragic and we sympathize with your plight.’

  ‘In that case, you will help us.’

  ‘All I can do is to leave you till the end of the forest but I will expect a reward for my services.’

  A swift look passed between Zeenat and Salamat. She was still carrying the expensive diamonds and stones in her dress and he had a few gold coins remaining.

  ‘What reward can we give you? We have nothing,’ he tried to bluff.

  ‘You have a fine horse. If you promise to give it to me, I can show you a way that will take you to the Deccan safely, and in half the time that it would take you to travel through the circuitous route. I know the jungles like the back of my hand. If you try to find your way through them, you will never get out alive. You need my help and I am j
ust asking for a small price because I sympathize with you.’

  Salamat looked stricken. He loved his horse. ‘But how will we travel if I give you my horse?’

  ‘I will give you a mare which will take you through the rest of your journey.’

  Zeenat and Salamat exchanged anxious looks over the head of the horse. She was aware how much he loved the animal, which he had bought at a very high price. It had been a constant companion for the past three years. The handsome stallion had served them faithfully for the past week, moving forward even when it was extremely exhausted.

  The thug stroked it covetously.

  ‘You have got a good bargain, janab. No one will help you in these regions. I am willing to do because I hate the imperial forces. They have taken away our lands and forced us to become dacoits. I was a farmer at one time and so were most of my men.’

  Without the guidance, Salamat realized it would take them weeks to reach Deccan. Besides, the risk of running across the soldiers, dacoits, and robbers in the forests loomed large. Alone he could face everything but with Zeenat by his side, he felt vulnerable. He wondered how long she could take the adversities. She already looked exhausted with lack of sleep and food.

  ‘All right, I will give you my horse but only when we reach the end of the forest,’ he agreed reluctantly to the dacoit’s offer.

  Glad to have struck a good bargain, the dacoit took them through the deep jungle. Just when Salamat thought that they were being taken for a ride, the fellow led them to a hill point from where they could see the habitation spread out below. Somberly, he pointed towards the path they should take to reach the town without any further mishaps. Salamat parted with his horse with a heavy heart, exchanging it for a puny mare.

  ‘My name is Dharma Rao,’ informed the man taking charge of the horse. ‘If you ever need any help, ride into this forest and ask for me. I will be happy to be of assistance to you.’

  Fourteen

  Zeenat’s heart danced with joy. She forgot her fatigue as they entered the city of Burhanpur, the Mughal headquarter in the South, where Shahjahan’s royal entourage was camped. They had managed to escape the emperor’s soldiers. After the long journey through forests and hills under the cover of darkness, the sight of civilization came as a welcome relief. She kicked her mare into a fast gallop challenging Salamat to race her.