The Princess and the Political Agent

by Binodini

  It was getting a little dark that evening. Manikchand had said he would send someone to fetch her. She left without waiting. On this day, there was no royal parasol over her head, no attendants, as the daughter of Maharaja Surchandra walked by herself towards Yaiskul. She had never walked alone like this before. Even though Manikchand could not send her on a palanquin, or keep palanquin bearers at home as had befitted the princess during the reign of her Sovereign Father, he never let Sanatombi go by herself. He had unfailingly assigned a person to accompany her every time. Today Sanatombi came out unhappily from the new palace all by herself. She was feeling an urgent desire to see the Dowager Queen Premamayi.

  The deposed Premamayi still lived; Premamayi, the Conqueror of Leisang, had now moved and was residing at the place called Janmasthan in Yaiskul. She lacked nothing befitting a queen. With servants and attendants, relatives and clan, she still upheld the dignity she had lost. Today she was no longer the queen of the land of the Meiteis but her residence was still the gathering place for the people. The capable Lady of Ngangbam still lived with fortitude. Sanatombi walked quickly to the Dowager Queen’s. Over and over again, she revisited the mocking words of the acid-tongued woman.

  Suddenly the passers-by scattered frantically to the side of the road. Sanatombi did not know why. She looked about her. All of a sudden there was a sound in the distance. The sound of horses. Sanatombi looked behind her a little uncertainly and stopped for a while. It was a time when foreign soldiers were all over the place, swarming their neighbourhoods, in every corner and byway. No one could tell when and where they would show up. Sometimes a white foreigner would chase down the passers-by and beat them—for not saluting, for not making way. In this manner, they had instilled great fear among the common people and tyrannized them. At the slightest incident, at the merest sound, they panicked and cowered in the canals and riverbeds. Raising their heads to see if they had gone by, they would only come out later from their hiding places. But Sanatombi did not hide because she did not know how to hide, she didn’t know she should hide. She stood still, bewildered, in the middle of the road.

  There were only two horsemen. It was almost full moon, and a gibbous moon came out from behind Nongmaijing Hill. It was the month of Mera and it was not yet completely dark; there was still some light in the twilight. The two horses came up to her and stopped. It must have been a surprise to come across a woman standing in the middle of the road in this time of great terror. The two horsemen dismounted. Sanatombi saw them—one was a foreigner and the other a Meitei. The Meitei came up to her and asked, ‘Who are you?’

  Sanatombi did not answer.

  He came in a little closer and took a good look and said, ‘Your Highness, what are you doing? Where are you going without any attendants?’

  Sanatombi knew this man very well. He was the man they called Ta’Pheijao, the man who used to look after the horses of her horse-loving royal uncle Prince Pakasana. Pheijao went up to the man he had come with and said something quietly. The foreigner saluted Sanatombi. He was Maxwell. Major Maxwell, the first Political Agent of colonized Manipur—the man the Meiteis called ‘Menjor Mesin’.

  Sanatombi stood there looking. She did not know what to do. She was a little relieved that Pheijao was there.

  Pheijao said, ‘What is going on, Your Highness? Aren’t you afraid to be walking without anyone?’

  ‘Ta’Pheijao, I am going to my royal mother’s on an urgent matter. I am not afraid. It is still early.’

  But the two men kept standing there. It seemed they could not simply take leave of Sanatombi. The Saheb said something in Hindi to Pheijao. This was not the first time Sanatombi was seeing the Saheb. She knew Maxwell very well. It was just that it was evening and she could not quite make him out. The Saheb also knew Sanatombi.

  Pheijao said, ‘Your servant the Saheb says he will drop you off.’

  ‘It is not necessary.’

  She quickened her pace. The two men came along leading their horses. Pheijao said a word or two to Sanatombi every now and then. But Maxwell did not say anything. He followed them leading his horse behind him.

  Sanatombi turned to him and said, ‘Saheb, I can manage. I can go on my own.’

  The Saheb bowed his head again and said, ‘Your Highness, sit on horse. I will walk.’

  After a year and a half in Manipur, Maxwell had picked up passable Manipuri.

  Pheijao said, ‘Your Highness, please mount my horse, your servant will attend to you on foot.’

  Sanatombi walked on ahead without saying anything. She did not ride. The two walked behind at a little distance. As they approached the gate of Kangla Fort after crossing Sanjenthong Bridge, the Saheb said to Pheijao in Hindi, ‘Pheijao, I asked Bamacharan to come see me about an urgent matter. He must be waiting for me. Tell him to wait for me for a bit. You go on into Kangla. I will escort the princess.’

  ‘Your servant has to drop off here to deliver an important message. Please permit your servant the Saheb to attend to you.’

  ‘What nonsense,’ Sanatombi replied.

  It was not that she was afraid of the Saheb. Sanatombi had met many sahebs like him. The Grimwoods had occasionally invited over Manipuri princes and princesses to the homestead at Konthoujam. She had had the chance to meet foreigners at close quarters as her royal uncles Pakasana and Koireng had also occasionally taken her along. Sometimes she and the memsaheb had boated together in the little pond in front of the bungalow. Various other sahebs had also come by. Sanatombi was among the princesses when the princes Koireng and Pakasana shrewdly introduced their nieces and daughters to Grimwood and his memsaheb in order to keep friendly relations with the foreigners. She was not that afraid of foreigners but she felt uncomfortable going with this man, because a few months earlier there had been an occasion when she had spoken harshly to this Saheb. Today was the second time she was meeting him.

  Pheijao translated the Saheb’s words, ‘Your servant Saheb says he will attend to you. But I am afraid I can’t go any farther. Please do not have any misgivings. … … …’

  Having said this, he mounted his horse and went galloping into Kangla Fort.

  They walked silently. Sanatombi in front, the tall Saheb leading his tall horse behind.

  Walking in silence must have felt awkward, for Maxwell said after a great deal of thought, ‘Princess, are you angry with me?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘When we met that day, you were anger with me … … … angry … . I sent you a message, I will send word.’

  Sanatombi knew what he was talking about. It was about the other day.

  ‘I will send word,’ he said again.

  ‘It is all right even if you don’t.’

  ‘So, you’re stopped being angry?’

  ‘What on earth is this man going on about? Why should I be angry? No, I am not angry. Just keep walking.’

  ‘Don’t be angry with me.’

  ‘No, I am not angry, all right?’ Sanatombi burst out laughing. His words had amused her greatly.

  After they had walked a while, he said again, ‘Tired? Are you tired? Sit on horse.’

  ‘No, I’m not tired. We are almost there.’

  ‘Afraid of horse?’

  Sanatombi laughed again and said, ‘No, I am not afraid.’

  ‘Sit on horse. Can I take you?’

  ‘Let’s just walk. If you are tired, you can mount.’

  The Saheb did not know the meaning of the word for ‘mount’. He thought she meant ‘ride’. Without a thought, he grabbed Sanatombi and swung her easily up on the horse. Then he leapt on it as well and they rode off at a clip.

  Maxwell knew where the Dowager Queen lived. Even though the foreigners at the time instilled fear in the people, their leaders like Maxwell who came to rule the land tried very hard not to anger the wounded royal family. Maxwell was not a common soldier, and so he came to see the queen every now and then; he tried to maintain relations with her. So, without a word he brought the ho
rse to a halt near the queen’s gate. Seeing that he was about to take her in after putting her down, Sanatombi said, ‘You can go now.’

  But Maxwell stood there still.

  Sanatombi said, ‘Go back now, you hear? It is all right. Go, go. …’

  The forty-something Maxwell said ‘good night’ and rode off on his horse.

  Sanatombi did not look back. She ran in towards the Dowager Queen’s residence.

  She said to the first servant she met, ‘Ta’Modhu, go call sister Amuchaobi. I am Sanatombi.’

  Amuchaobi came running briskly and said, ‘What are you doing, my lady, what is the matter? What are you doing here in the dark?’

  ‘Forget it, bring a washcloth from my royal mother. I stepped on something, let me just go bathe.’ Saying this, she jumped into the large pond of the residence with a splash and bathed.

  The Dowager Queen was worried beyond words. She said, ‘What are you coming and doing here? Why didn’t you just let me know? Has someone done something to my child?’

  ‘It is nothing, Royal Mother. I had gone to the palace as I was asked to come and take part in the dance. I just wanted to see Royal Mother so I came.’

  The Lady of Ngangbam did not believe her. She knew she was keeping something from her, but she said, ‘Oh, I thought something had happened. You really are always up to one strange thing or another. If you wanted to come you could have come in the morning. Is anybody there? Go take a message to the Nongmaithem household and tell them that my daughter is here with me and I will send her back.’

  Sanatombi was drying her hair in front of the full-length mirror. She laughed and said, ‘If I want to come and see my royal mother, why should I have to wait till the morning?’

  But Sanatombi did not tell the Dowager Queen what she had come to say. She also did not tell her how the Saheb had brought her here. The queen knew Sanatombi’s temperament and said nothing more but she knew there had to be some matter she had come about; it was not a simple visit.

  Meanwhile, Maxwell galloped into Kangla Fort. Pheijao was waiting at the royal gate. He handed him the reins and asked, ‘Has Bamacharan come?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  He strode inside quickly and said to the waiting Bamacharan, ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. Bamacharan, will you please come tomorrow morning between nine and ten?’

  ‘Yes, sir. May I bring a few more files?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ And saying this he went inside his room.

  He washed up and went out through the eastern door and strolled along the bank of the big river. Moonlight beat down on the glistening current of the slowly flowing waters. Maxwell stood quietly on the riverbank and thought, ‘What a beautiful country.’

  The Lady of Ngangbam was the most ill-starred of all the queens of Manipur. Her husband was chased away by his brothers, her children Prince Lukhoi and Princess Tamphasana died before their time. If she had had the chance she could have employed her skills and courage to be a celebrated queen of Manipur like Linthoi’ngambi or the Lady of Meisnam. Having known the Lady of Meisnam, she had taken part in the intricate nuances of politics but it was her bad luck. She had to live today, watching as others took the throne and foreigners ruled the land. But because she was born blessed with superior qualities she could not stay down for long, she could not stay quiet even if she wanted to. She heard that after the foreigners had taken possession of Manipur and she had settled down, at the row of residences of the princes enclosed by the Kangla and now where the British platoon was situated, many cows were being slaughtered and eaten by the white men.

  Aggrieved, the religious Brahmins came to the queen and petitioned, ‘Royal Dowager Queen, please do not let them to do this at least. It is better that we your humble servants were shot rather than live hearing that cows are being killed inside the Kangla. We will go in and kill ourselves. Please tell us what your royal command is.’

  The Lady of Ngangbam laughed and said, ‘Who am I today? Who will listen to me in this land where my lord does not rule any more. The child-king will not be able to do anything. But let me see, if your holy personages will calm down and wait a little.’

  She sent a message without any delay. She sent for Bamacharan Mukherjee.

  Bamacharan was a clerk who had been kept at one time by the king of Manipur. Keeping an Indian like him was necessary because they needed a person to communicate with the sahebs since they did not know their language. Princes of the day like Prince Pakasana and others had learnt English but it was not adequate to conduct business. Today the Bengali Bamacharan was not only a clerk to the sahebs but he had become an influential man among them. When the Lady of Ngangbam thought of him, one of her staff said, ‘Should we still trust him, Royal Dowager Queen? What good will he still do for Manipur?’

  True, he was suspect. Although he was once a man who had enjoyed the prosperity of Manipur, Bamacharan had turned witness for the sahebs at the trial of Koireng Tikendrajit. People had despised this ungrateful man.

  But the queen said, ‘One must not be angry with people like them. They are outsiders, they come looking to fill their stomachs. Chaoba, there are many people like these. Is there any lack of people whose faces turn with the times? Did you not see this during the reign of your sovereign lord? I will call him and talk to him a bit, and if it does not work I will talk to the Saheb.’

  Bamacharan kowtowed to the queen as before and waited for her word. He felt discomfited.

  The queen called, ‘Mister Clerk Bamacharan.’

  ‘My lady, at your command.’

  ‘Mister Clerk, I have heard that a lot of cows are shot and eaten inside the Kangla. Do not let them do this, it is not good. Nothing good will come of this.’

  ‘It must be the work of rowdy white soldiers, my lady. Your servant Maxwell is not a person to do something like this.’

  ‘Even if he does not do it himself, he is the head. He must put a stop to this. What kind of a leader is he if he cannot control his men under him.’

  ‘Your servant will inform him immediately.’

  ‘Mister Clerk, it is not a good thing to do as you please and hurt the sentiments of the people just because you are the rulers of the land. Why didn’t you tell him; you know everything. Have you forgotten the ways and customs of the Meiteis?’

  Bamacharan lowered his head. As he was about to take his leave, he requested, ‘Will the Dowager Queen please tell Maxwell as well? He will come himself and kowtow to you. Please also tell him of any other dissatisfactions. Manipur is still a land ruled by the king. It is only a matter of Maxwell looking after the land for him as he is still a child. Please call and meet with him.’

  ‘We will talk about that later.’

  In this way, the queen met with Maxwell on occasion. The queen’s brothers and Bamacharan interpreted for the queen and let the Saheb know whatever she had to say. They also stopped shooting cows openly but most people never knew that even at this time, the fallen queen of Surchandra had not stopped thinking of her people, nor stopped thinking of Manipur.

  But the Lady of Ngangbam had nothing much that she wanted any more; she had no more desire for power and station. For whom and why would she desire that? When it came down to it, all she had left as her own were her three step-daughters from her co-wives. She spent her days with her defeat at the hands of others buried deep in her heart.

  It also slowly came to light that Maxwell, the man who first hoisted the foreigners’ flag in Manipur, seemed to have had a little of their interests at heart. If Manipur were to be kept as a land ruled by a king, the question of ‘Who would it be?’ arose. At that time Maxwell had submitted to his superiors that if a king were to be installed, Prince Lukhoi, the son of Surchandra, would be the right choice according to custom, and appointing him would best serve all interests … … … . These communications that went on within the government reached the queen’s ears one day, and that was why she had wanted to see Manikchand and consult with her eldest daughter, Sanatombi. The Lady of Ngang
bam was aware that the throne of Manipur went to the lineage of Maharaja Narasingh because Maxwell’s recommendation was rejected by the Viceroy. But she never brought up this matter with anybody. And so, while the queen did not think of Maxwell as their enemy, she called him up on occasion and let him know indirectly: ‘Do not do as you please, for subjugation is not on the outside, it is inside.’ Even though she talked about many things indirectly, she let the powerful British know clearly what she wanted them to know. She also reminded them that the kings of Manipur had come to their aid in the past. She also let it drop as in a casual conversation, ‘When the Ngamei tribes had surrounded you and were about to kill the foreigners’ women and children at Kohima during the reign of Chandrakirti, who was it who arrived in time to help them? Who was the man who personally came to save them? It was my husband, Crown Prince Surchandra. But you abandoned such a man. You did not come to the help of my husband, a man who was not given to honeyed talk. … … …’

  Maxwell also took the queen’s counsel first when it came to matters of tradition. He too knew that the Lady of Ngangbam was no ordinary person, that she was a capable queen of Manipur. Maxwell wanted to win the hearts of the Meiteis and so he took the queen very seriously. He was aware that even though the fallen queen of king Surchandra was no longer on the throne, she still occupied an important position. It would not do to take this lightly. And Surchandra was not a king who was expelled from the land because he was not loved.

  But even though she received respect from the sahebs, the Lady of Ngangbam never again attended the festivities and events of the land. She would not be able to bear people pointing to her as a fallen queen. And so, she thought—I will lie low. But her suffering people never stopped gathering in droves at her place.