The Princess and the Political Agent

by Binodini

  Sanatombi said, ‘Is it really true as they say that Sovereign Father will be going abroad?’

  ‘Yes, I have to. There is not much point in staying here unless I have a word with the Viceroy. If it is not in my stars to stay in the service of Lord Govinda, I will embark upon a pilgrimage, and I will not return.’

  ‘You cannot do that. Manipur belongs to Sovereign Father. Why do they not know this?’

  But who will seek right or wrong when it comes to rivalries … … … .

  ‘Sanatombi, listen to your father. You are now the eldest of my children. I won’t be able to get your two younger sisters married. You must look into this. Help your mother. I am afraid my Lukhoi does not carry much weight.’

  ‘Why should Sovereign Father leave Manipur? Do you want to give Kangla to other people? Isn’t it your right? … … … I do not trust them, what will they do for us? Let me talk to them; just let me talk to my uncle Koireng. Why have they forgotten what Sovereign Grandfather said to us … … … ?’

  ‘Be quiet, Sanatombi—do not speak of such matters around here.’

  ‘Please call the Political Agent, I will talk to him. … … … How could they … … … .’ Sanatombi was almost in tears.

  ‘Sanatombi, daddy’s little princess … … … .’ The monarch’s voice trembled.

  ‘I understand, Sovereign Father. I am not Lukhoi,’ said Sanatombi. ‘But why did they not tell me first?’ she asked bitterly.

  But she knew her calm, kind father had never suspected anybody. He had been affectionate and friendly towards all his brothers. But he had not realized that the embers in the family hearth had flared up during the four years of his reign and the princes who, while their Sovereign Father Chandrakirti reigned, had not been able to do so, had now begun to try to depose their older brother and had risen up in arms for the throne. He did not have time to think about it. Prince Borachaoba and Prince Wangkheirakpa were not enemies to be trifled with. And Surchandra believed that the British would abide by the treaty of Chatragram and remain a friend of the throne of Manipur. They would be an ally. But he had not thought that one’s own blood would revolt. The Political Agent at the time was not his friend, nor was he an enemy. He had never fraternized closely with the foreigners. He had kept a distance. Neither did he know that Grimwood did not consider him a friend because he himself had never held anything against Grimwood. There was just the one time though when he had a stern word or two with him—he had had to. Upon receiving word that the young man Grimwood, who had come without his wife, had taken a lot of photographs of Meitei women and were sending them abroad, he had taken a severe tone and reprimanded him saying that he must stop it for it was forbidden. He had also called Koireng and said, ‘Do not allow him to do such things’, because Surchandra knew that Koireng and Grimwood were very close.

  Soon after, the saheb’s wife arrived from Shillong.

  Around this time, it became known for certain that the saheb was a little unhappy with the king because of this incident. After Sanatombi mentioned that she didn’t trust them, the king recalled this incident and began to suspect him, for had Grimwood stood by his side, the upheaval over the throne of Manipur would have been resolved easily. Even though he was friends with Koireng, he should not have forgotten the friendly relations with the throne of Manipur. But Surchandra did not say everything to his daughter—he should not say everything—for they were in the British agency and Sanatombi was still a child. What purpose would it serve? It would only upset the child. But this he had not known, and failed to remember, that even though she was a child, Sanatombi had been brought up by the Lady of Meisnam, Unifier and Embracer of Peoples. She was wise beyond her years.

  Seeing her father silent, Sanatombi once again said, ‘If Sovereign Father has really decided to go, I will go too. Allow me to be present at the meeting with the Viceroy. How can Sovereign Father go by yourself? Huh, what business is it of theirs? Why are they meddling … … … ?’

  ‘Why don’t you be quiet. … … … My Tombi, if only you had been a boy I would have been happy.’

  ‘I can do it, Sovereign Father—I can talk to them. I will go with you. Let me serve you … … … .’

  She remembered the Queen Mother. Sanatombi remembered her Grand Queen Mother. She saw vividly before her eyes—her Grand Queen Mother is riding along the Tongjeimaril Passage, in men’s clothes, her jaws girded, taking her small child Chandrakirti with her. Behind her, the soldiers of Narasingh.

  But deep inside she felt hurt by her beloved uncle Koireng: What a tragedy; what unhappiness had he harboured. … … … … Why did my uncle keep this all from me?

  Sanatombi came back from her meeting with her father, deeply unhappy. She could not sleep all night, her mind whirled. What upset her most was that that her father had no one to turn to—that there was nobody of any worth on the outside who could be said to be on his side. Sanatombi had no one to consult, no one to talk to. At the most there was only the queen, the Lady of Ngangbam. But she was also being closely watched by the enemies—and the enemies were her husband’s own younger brothers. So, the king and queen had not been able to meet each other. Even though the shrewd Lady of Ngangbam was not in prison, she was imprisoned by the sharp eyes that surrounded her. Sanatombi bore the pain of her helplessness, of her hopelessness, all by herself. The Nongmaithem family was impervious to matters such as these.

  Chaobihal the Brahmin cook had been with the palace since the days of her Sovereign Grandfather. She was still cooking for Sanatombi. She was a friend she could talk to.

  Sanatombi said, ‘Mother Brahmin, I would like to meet Laikhurasajou the scholar just one time. Where would he be? Could you arrange a meeting with him without letting anybody know?’

  Sanatombi met the scholar Laikhurasajou secretly one day. Laikhurasajou was the head scholar since the time of the reign of her father His Majesty Surchandra. Sanatombi said, ‘Is there no one in Manipur who loves my Sovereign Father?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t there be, Your Highness? The Divine Majesty, Embracer of the Hills and Victor in War, is a king loved by the people, but others have taken control first. There is no one any more who is able to come out openly for your father.’

  ‘I am very unhappy, Grandpa. I am very unhappy about the recent turn of events—I do not believe the people really do not want my Sovereign Father. … … … … And what about grandpa Major Thanggal?’

  ‘Your grandfather Thanggal is the most upset of all, Your Highness. He weeps over what their Sovereign Father’s sons are doing to each other but princess, your grandpa Thanggal is a man of sterling quality. He will put Manipur first at the most crucial of times. There will be no question of taking sides with him. We are also all most distraught, Your Highness.’

  ‘And what do you all see as being foretold, Grandpa? Will it not be possible for Sovereign Father to rule again?’

  ‘Your Highness, it has been foretold to your grandfather and the scholars that whoever comes to power will not reign for long. It seems the time of the reign of kings in Manipur is drawing to an end. I am beginning to believe that the forty-year reign of your Sovereign Grandfather Chandrakirti that was foretold consists of the thirty-six years your Sovereign Grandfather ruled together with the four years of your Sovereign Father. Your humble servant Taoriya Hidang firmly believes this.’

  Sanatombi was disappointed to hear these words of the head scholar, but she did not lose faith—her Sovereign Father would rule again; he would once again rule over the land of the Meiteis. She then met Tonjao of Moirang in secret. She knew, even though other people did not, that Tonjao of Moirang was a man who loved her father.

  She said, ‘Ta’Tonjao, do you all no longer really love my Sovereign Father at all?’

  ‘What are you saying, Your Highness. But the situation is dire now. Since Prince Koireng and Major Thanggal are involved.’

  ‘Grandpa Thanggal too!’

  ‘Major Thanggal’s exact position is difficult to say right now,
Your Highness.’

  ‘I don’t know, I don’t know what to do. I still have two younger sisters whose marriages need to be arranged. And what can you all do for Sovereign Father at this time? Even though I am the eldest child of Sovereign Father, I am still young. And what would Lukhoi know?’

  She hinted to Tonjao of Moirang that she would be giving away her younger sister Ombisana in marriage. She knew Tonjao harboured hopes for her younger half-sister Princess Ombisana.

  ‘But give me news now and then, Ta’Tonjao.’

  Tonjao left. She knew then that Tonjao still loved Surchandra. And Tonjao was no ordinary man.

  It is better to be quiet and stay low, thought Sanatombi. What could she do, a mere child? She had her Manikchand, but she knew that Manikchand was no Chancellor Lamphel. But she never gave up hope, for who knows, the British government could very well help her Sovereign Father. She constantly thought of Lukhoi: if only he grasped matters a little better. She could not bear to remember her father’s helplessness, his defeated face as he went in alone with a handful of people, prepared to seek asylum in a foreign land, and thought—How dare they! They have won. How easily they got away with it! And they are all brothers too!

  The outrage at the palace entered a new chapter. Surchandra was now in Calcutta. Kulachandra had become king. But war was inevitable. The British against Kulachandra. But for whom? On behalf of his older brother Surchandra? No, it was not that. Or was it a plan to swallow Manipur whole? It was becoming clear: the brashly confident British would conquer Manipur and bring it under foreign rule. Manipur’s final war was not far off. Quinton, the chief commissioner of Assam, arrived carrying orders to capture Prince Koireng alive. Failing to do so, all of a sudden, shots were fired at Koireng’s house in the deceitful stealth of night. They failed to capture Koireng—and five white men’s heads rolled in front of the leogryphs of Kangla Fort. The heads, severed from their bodies, were interred to Nunggoibi, the War Goddess. War was inevitable—Manipur’s final war.

  Manikchand was not in Manipur at this time, though he could be back any day now. He had gone to Cachar. He had said that if it worked out he, along with Haodeijam Cheiteino, would go and see her Sovereign Father in Calcutta. She did not believe he would; he would merely say, ‘I couldn’t make it, I couldn’t get any news, it just did not work out.’ Sanatombi knew Manikchand was not a man who took an interest in these matters. He was going for business; he had gone to make money. The Nongmaithem family was not one that spent freely. They were not the kind to try to impress people without watching their purse simply because a princess had married into their household. They were a hard-working, frugal family. Manikchand often went to Cachar. He brought back bags and bags of money every time he returned, but their modest lifestyle carried on as before. The extravagant Sanatombi had difficulty trying to fit in but the thoughtful, far-sighted Manikchand always reminded her—even though she was a princess of Manipur today, her father was no longer the king of Manipur. She must conduct herself accordingly.

  The land was restive and people had begun to prepare for war as soon as the shots were fired at Prince Koireng’s house, gunfire was exchanged with the British, and after the sahebs had been killed. People started moving their belongings into storage and began sending their women and children away. But the Nongmaithem household could not leave their home because Manikchand had not returned.

  It was dusk that day. Someone knocked at the door of the Nongmaithem house. Manikchand’s mother, who had been keeping watch over the children and womenfolk, went out to look. She said quietly to Sanatombi, ‘It is Crown Prince Koireng.’ Sanatombi panicked. She did not know what to do for a moment. She went out and after kowtowing, said, ‘Please come inside.’ They were silent for a while. They could not quite begin.

  Koireng said after he had taken his seat, ‘Sanatombi.’

  ‘Your Highness.’

  ‘… … … Sanatombi, Manipur is in a very bad situation now. The British are not going to let it go easily after these incidents. They have made preparations to attack Manipur from three directions. I have received information. … … … Sanatombi, believe your uncle when I say I did not quite want this.’

  Sanatombi understood immediately what he wanted to say. He was saying that he had not wanted to depose her father.

  She answered, ‘Who is this information from?’

  ‘From a trustworthy person.’

  ‘Which trustworthy person? Is there anyone who can still be trusted, Uncle?

  Koireng was not pleased with Sanatombi’s response, but he said, ‘Yes, there is. He is from a foreign land—he is an Indian.’

  ‘What Indian? What is he saying?’

  ‘The government’s secret plans, he has been quietly giving information about the government’s plans for a long time. That is why I, I mean, we—’

  Koireng did not go any further. He wanted to say: Your Sovereign Father will not be able to handle the British. Surchandra will not be able to fend off the British government, skilled at outflanking and taking over lands, once they got a foot in the door. He had appealed to Surchandra quietly many times but he would not listen. He might have, but he had been alienated by his brothers who were born of the same mother. What use would it be to tell Sanatombi about the little sparks of resentment that had now blazed aflame into a conflagration. Sanatombi was smart even though she was young—Koireng did not want to tell her all and go into small, pointless details.

  ‘Who is this Indian? Who is this Indian who loves Manipur so much?’

  ‘I will not say his name. I have given my word. He is a person who came out here to work for the government of the British agency. He does not approve of the land-hungry foreigners. Over in India, they have begun to expel the British. Sanatombi, you do not know this, but the British are greatly hated in the land of the Indians. It is said a relative of my informant is in the armed rebellion and there are also many in flight after the Sepoy Mutiny. So even though he has to work for a living, deep down, he does not approve of them.’

  He told her briefly about the Sepoy Mutiny. Many rebels had sought refuge and were hiding in Manipur at this time. Koireng seemed to be quite familiar with them.

  ‘Why has my uncle come here today? How may your servant serve you?’

  ‘I want to move you all to a suitable place. A war with the British is certain. It could be today, it could be tomorrow.’ Koireng appeared to be deep in thought.

  ‘Uncle, I am hearing all sorts of things. Is it true?’

  ‘What?’

  Sanatombi did not quite want to voice it but she said, ‘About all sorts of foreboding signs … … … .’

  Sanatombi had heard of many mysterious signs, ominous signs that had been the talk of the land. There were murmurs about what would become of the king of the land. Spirits had been seen in the reservoir of the armoury, the face of Lord Brinamchandra had been turned around, there had been blood at the temple to Lord Ramchandra, and so on … … … . Not only that, at the south-west corner of the shrine to Lord Pakhangba, Ruler of the Gods, his great chariot, emblazoned with his banners and flags, had been seen hurtling down from the heavens only to vanish an arm’s length from the ground. The scholars of the king of the land had debated this divine sign from the gods. They had been worried.

  ‘Yes, there have been some signs. But who can stop what is destined to be. … … … All right, go get ready, let us go.’

  ‘Today?’

  ‘Today, right now.’

  Manikchand had not returned. It did not look like he would be coming back in the next day or two. But Sanatombi’s mother-in-law said, ‘Please take Her Highness. She is young and should not be in the midst of a war. We will wait for a few days if we may.’ Sanatombi’s mother-in-law could rely on her brothers. And so, it was decided thus.

  ‘Sanatombi, I brought horses for you too. Would you still be able to ride a horse?’

  ‘Yes, Uncle.’

  All the princesses of Manipur learnt to ride. When
the Divine Majesty had gone to the durbar at Jila, he had taken a few of his daughters on horseback but a few of them who did not know how to ride had caused a great inconvenience. Koireng had taught Sanatombi to ride from then on.

  Koireng and Sanatombi rode together on their horses along the bed of the big river. Sanatombi was in men’s clothes. As they crossed the bridge at Minuthong and approached Khurai, Koireng said, ‘Sanatombi, here, hold both horses and stay down in the riverbed for a bit. I need to go bring someone—will you be afraid?’

  ‘No.’

  He came back after a little while with a woman, her face and head covered. Sanatombi was surprised but she did not ask anything. There was no time to ask. Koireng put the woman on his horse and rode on ahead. Sanatombi rode behind him. Every now and then he would look back to see if she was keeping up. She was riding right behind him. Koireng laughed and said, ‘Now, that’s my girl!’

  They reached Koirenggei. He must have sent word on ahead for many servants and attendants were waiting for them. Koireng jumped off his horse, and he helped the woman down. Sanatombi also alighted from her horse.

  He made the two of them go into a neat little cottage that looked like a bridal house and said to an attendant, ‘Balasingh, look after them.’

  The little village of Koirenggei was somewhat tucked away and was a convenient place to take refuge from the war. There were also many paddies there that belonged to the crown prince—and so there were many there in service to him. There were also other houses where women and children of the palace were sheltered. They were not all kept in one place for fear that it would attract attention. They were scattered, one or two to a household. The house where Sanatombi and the woman were kept belonged to Balasingh. Balasingh was a tenant farmer of Koireng, and the young woman was his sister’s daughter—her name, Tilotama. She must have been around Sanatombi’s age. Sanatombi wondered—Has the woman caught the attention of the prince with the roving eye?