The Princess and the Political Agent

by Binodini

  Even though they had survived this incident, they could not stop the rumours. Sanatombi went mad and ran into Maxwell’s house; she was apprehended on the way by the Lady of Ngangbam; she had spent a night at Maxwell’s. The gossip flew. But the Meiteis strongly believed that she had gone in because she had gone mad. Sanatombi on her part refused to go back to Manikchand. And Manikchand would not accept her either for he did not want to take back a woman who had been linked in scandal with the Saheb.

  The queen thought hard; she had to think. This incident was not a simple matter. She said to her daughter, ‘You shameless woman, do you want your name to be recorded besmirched in the royal chronicle?’

  She did not stay quiet. She called Chancellor Gulapsingh who had been stationed in Calcutta to keep relations between the British government and Manipur, and had a serious discussion. Sometime later Gulapsingh left Manipur, saying he was going to Vrindavan, but he sidetracked to Calcutta. He consulted with his network of Indian friends and sent word to reach the ears of an influential person in the British government. It was imperative that Maxwell was transferred from Manipur.

  The Lady of Ngangbam kept Sanatombi with her and told people she was undergoing medical treatment but she never stopped trying to send Sanatombi back to Manikchand. She sent Tonjao to relay to Manikchand—Why didn’t he come to her first if he had any misgivings? Why did he keep her daughter without giving her any food? If he had any problems he should have said so. What kind of a person was he to believe anything that people told him … … … and so on. But Manikchand replied, ‘Let me think about it.’

  The Lady of Ngangbam went about calmly as though nothing had happened—but Sanatombi’s unfortunate mother Jasumati wept. ‘All is lost, your mother is lost, Sanatombi!’

  CHAPTER 15

  And what of Maxwell! Sanatombi suddenly felt closer to him after this incident. Among the many important affairs that he had to think about, his thoughts of Sanatombi became the most important and weighty of them all. But he felt uncomfortable about inquiring any further; he would come across as a crazy fool if he did so. He attended to his work seriously. He called Bamacharan and set up a tour programme. He decided he would traverse all the hills and villages of Manipur on foot. He began to pour his heart into his tasks of building and developing. He took up his work: he went to every household and counted their members, he determined taxation rates for paddy lands, and put a stop to influence peddling. He made progress. He was very busy, he busied himself. Sometimes he would select a tall Manipuri pony and join in a game of polo. At times, he would make the Kabui tribals dance. He let people engage in wrestling hockey. All these festivities he did in the name of Little Majesty. When he invited the noble and powerful to these, he did not inform the queen, the Lady of Ngangbam, for he knew that the queen no longer wished to attend royal events. Moreover, he was a little cowed by her ever since that day’s incident. He could not forget what the queen had said to him: ‘She cannot be involved in a scandal with you, she cannot get a bad name.’ He had been very embarrassed that day, but he had wanted to ask—Sanatombi, why did you come running to me, did you resent me for calling your mother and handing you over to her? But he never found out, he had not had the time to ask her. All these questions, and Sanatombi, tormented him but her name never crossed his lips again. He remained silent.

  Maxwell went to the hills all the time. How beautiful were the hill ranges of Manipur. Wherever he looked he saw the ranges, fold upon fold in many colours. A Meitei soldier pointed and said, ‘That is why we say circled by our hills as sentinels, the golden heart of Manipur.’ Spires of smoke rose from the widely spaced villages of the hills until they reached the heavens. The hillman porter said, ‘Saheb, would you like to listen to our love song?’

  Sang he:

  The smoke that rises yonder

  Is from your village.

  The smoke that rises here

  Is from my village.

  The smoke spires will join together

  Once they reach the heavens.

  Maxwell did not understand the song in their Kabui language. The Meitei soldiers who were with him helped him understand using a mixture of Hindi and Meiteilon. After he understood it Maxwell said, ‘I see, very beautiful.’

  He had a wonderful time in this way, and the forests of Manipur had been beautiful. It was the spring month of Sajibu. Who knew what foreigner had planted them but among the flowering trees native to this land blossomed rhododendron and azalea. How bauhinia flowered red upon red and white upon white to blanket the hills, and bonsum trees grew straight and tall. And many, many ironwood and magnolia. The men of the hills who laughed all the time, the men of the valley who always enjoyed themselves, he loved them all. Their simple, lovely homes, with groves of bamboo, rows of banana trees, little ponds, duck, pigeon, chicken coops, and pigsties—all of them were new to him, new and beautiful.

  He loved to travel among the forests of Manipur in this way, and he thought—How beautiful, how beautiful. I am going to return home with love for this land. He remembered Sanatombi when he thought this. He remembered, and felt a pang in his heart.

  He climbed Mount Koubru one time. He climbed up as far as the Cow Hump. And what pleasant company were the Meiteis he went with. They never said they were tired. They joked, and laughed, and sang as they walked. He was not the Big Saheb then, and they too were not his subordinates working for him. They were all men together. One soldier pointed at a skinny fellow and said, ‘This guy has three wives. They don’t give him any food at home. The three of them gang up and beat him and that is why he is so skinny … … … .’

  They all laughed loudly. Maxwell also laughed uncertainly. There was much laughter on this journey. One time he went and spent the night in the little shack in Kangchup Village that the one-time Political Agent McCulloch had built. His travelling companions said quietly, ‘This Saheb has gone crazy.’

  Once when he was staying over for the night, seeing the chief of the village give Maxwell a hornbill as a gift, a Meitei solder said, ‘Give this bird back to him, Saheb.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It is not good to keep this bird. Bad luck.’

  ‘Who says so?’

  ‘There is a story, Saheb.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  The soldier was pleased that he was getting a chance to tell the story and he began to tell the tale. Maxwell lay flat on his back upon the grass and listened to the story: ‘Once upon a time, there lived a young girl called Ngangbiton, they say. She was brought up by her stepmother as her father was in the service of the court and so he never got to stay at home for long. And how nasty her stepmother was. She tormented the young girl, beating and scolding her. She gave her so much work to do that the young girl did not even have time to comb her hair. She was not allowed to be with her friends, nor was she permitted to go to any festivals. One day Ngangbiton’s father said, “Daddy’s little girl, your father has to go to the hills, you stay here nicely with your mother. I will bring back many things for you, I will bring you silk yarn to weave … … … .”

  ‘Every day Ngangbiton would look in the direction her father had gone, and she counted the days until his return. She thought of how evil her stepmother was, how she would beat her, pleased now that her father was not around. Ngangbiton wept—

  Where are you, my father?

  Oh, my dear mother,

  Where are you?

  ‘Every evening, flocks of hornbills would fly by, headed who knew where. Ngangbiton called to the birds and said—

  Oh, hornbill birds,

  Are you going to my father’s land?

  Please tell him Ngangbiton awaits him.

  ‘A little later, she said once again—

  Oh, hornbill birds,

  Please drop me a feather each

  So your child may toddle behind you.

  ‘The hornbills each dropped a feather for Ngangbiton every time they flew by in a flock. Ngangbiton picked the feathers up one by one and sti
tched them on to an old piece of cloth. One day Ngangbiton wore the shirt that she had made from the hornbill feathers and waited for the hornbills to come flying. And then she turned into a hornbill and flew off, following them—Saheb. And that is why we revere the hornbill. We must not keep it at home.’

  Maxwell looked up at the blue sky as he listened to the story. When it came to parts that he could not follow he made the soldier tell it slowly, and if he did not follow at all he made him repeat it. Maxwell listened to the story, and a cuckoo sang in the distance—‘Ting-kong kang-kong.’

  When they were ready to leave after the sun had come up, Maxwell said, ‘Let the hornbill go.’

  ‘That’s the way, Saheb, who knows, the bird may be Ngangbiton.’ The soldier who told the story was pleased that his word had been taken seriously.

  As they walked down the hill, one sang out—

  Oh, flower of the rains

  Blossoming in the hills.

  You dropped off the branch

  Before you could adorn me.

  What regret, oh what regret,

  Oh, how filled with regret am I …

  When he returned from a wonderful trip to the hills such as this, Maxwell found a letter waiting for him. He laughed when Bamacharan brought in his papers and said, ‘Bamacharan, I had the most wonderful time. I have decided that I will start looking into the hills starting next year … … … .’ He said one thing after another, but Bamacharan did not answer; he sat silently. He handed him the letters file. A letter from the Indian government headquarters waiting for Maxwell said, ‘Maxwell is required back for some important reasons—another Political Agent for Manipur will be sent. His name is A. Porteous, ICS.’ But Maxwell smiled a little. His superiors had recently given him several assignments. He had not believed he would be needed back so soon. Well, he would have to go. There was much that he had thought of taking up, that he had to finish. He was a bit surprised at his untimely recall, but he would have to go. He met all his friends. He came to pay his respects to the queen one day but his lips could not bear to ask to see Sanatombi. He had wanted to meet her just once as he was about to leave.

  ‘Chonjon, Sanatombi is staying in Wangkhei, right?’

  ‘No, Saheb. She is staying with the queen.’

  ‘Still!’

  ‘Yes, sir, she has been staying at the queen’s for quite some time.’

  Chonjon knew why she was staying at the queen’s. He may have mentioned it one time but Maxwell was uncomfortable about asking him any further and so he was not aware that Sanatombi was staying with the queen. He had also thought she would be at Manikchand’s. He remembered the incident from before and suddenly felt unhappy. He strongly suspected that Sanatombi’s still living with the queen and the incident of the other day were connected. He wanted to see her even more; he wanted to say to her just once—Please forgive me. If I have been the cause of your unhappiness, please forgive me … … … .

  ‘Pheijao, bring out the horses, let’s go for a ride,’ said Maxwell to Pheijao.

  The day of his departure was nearing. He had started packing his belongings. He had already started sending most of them ahead. Pheijao and he came out on horseback, riding out southward.

  When they approached the residence of the Dowager Queen, the Lady of Ngangbam, Maxwell brought his horse to a halt and said to Pheijao, ‘Pheijao, tell the queen I am about to leave. Would it be all right if I give my salaams to Sanatombi just one time?’

  Pheijao came back from the queen and said, ‘Saheb, Her Highness Sanatombi is indisposed, it would not be convenient.’

  ‘I see,’ said Maxwell to himself sadly. He also felt embarrassed in front of Pheijao.

  CHAPTER 16

  No one knew where exactly Maxwell’s new job was. There were all sorts of talk that he first spent some time at Fort William, some said he went to Shillong, others said to Silchar, there were those who also said that he had reached England. People talked about him for some time and then slowly they forgot about him. Even though those who had associated with him murmured about him, Maxwell’s shadow faded slowly in Manipur.

  About two years passed, then one day news began to spread that Maxwell was going to return as Political Agent, it was from reliable sources, and so on … … … . Even though it came as a bit of a surprise, people who liked him were pleased and said, ‘Come to think of it, he really would be better.’ It was also said that he was being called back because the previous Political Agent’s wife could not get used to Manipur.

  Quite unexpectedly one day, Maxwell, who had been gone for more than two years, came back. The people rejoiced but one could not say whether he himself was happy about it or not. As soon as he arrived, he dropped in on all the people he knew and was friendly with, like the royal grandfather the king of Moirang, Little Majesty, and so on. Even though there was one person he knew he should meet, he did not, thinking he would meet her after some time—and that was the widow of Maharaja Surchandra, the Dowager Queen, the Lady of Ngangbam. He remembered Sanatombi. The prospect of meeting her was remote but he thought of Sanatombi—any time there was talk of Manipur he had remembered Sanatombi. But it was a hopeless thought, merely the shadow of a distant dream. He got down to his work—and he worked very hard. He looked up the tasks he had left unfinished, he tried to apply new thinking to his work.

  After considering it from various angles he decided that keeping the residency at Kangla Fort was not right and that he would build a new brick building at its previous location at the Konthoujam homestead. This time he would have to build it properly for during Grimwood’s time there had been a crisis when the Meiteis had burnt the residency down, and on top of that, he felt that Manipur, now ruled by the British government, should have a residency that projected an elevated image. He soon began to make plans for the building of the residency. He had new blueprints drawn up in Calcutta. Papers went back and forth frequently with his superiors. He himself went to the Konthoujam homestead frequently.

  The construction at the Konthoujam homestead began. A master builder skilled in brick work was brought in from India but Maxwell thought he would make people from this land make the wooden items for the bungalow as much as possible. The sahebs thought the people of Manipur were very clever and quick learners. He knew this from what he heard during discussions with the Meiteis when they were making roads and bridges, for example. The sahebs had great confidence in the Meiteis. He thought he would import as little as possible. He had always said too that ‘Manipur is a country with many wants and poor income’, and he was a very careful man who tried not to spend funds unnecessarily. So, he thought he would hire Meitei woodworkers, and he would instruct them himself and he would get them started on making the furniture for the residency. That would save money, and there would be no issues of transportation. He had also seen the woodwork in the houses in Kangla Fort, their floral carvings, the meticulous designs on hookahs, and he was able to see from all this the quality of the craftsmanship of Meitei woodworkers. He thought it would surely be possible to work with them.

  He called Bamacharan and said, ‘Bamacharan, find me a Manipuri carpenter. I will make him do some woodwork at Kangla under my supervision … … … .’

  The woodworker arrived and he got to work. Maxwell came out often to look and give instructions. Maxwell was very pleased with the man’s woodwork, and he talked to him about sundry matters as with a friend.

  One day, he said in Hindi, ‘Carpenter, where is your house?’

  ‘Near Ta’Pheijao’s, Saheb.’

  ‘And where does Pheijao live?’

  ‘In Satpam Leikai, Saheb.’

  ‘Satpam Leikai?’ Maxwell did not know where Satpam Leikai was. The carpenter tried to make it easy for him and said, ‘In the house right next to Her Highness Sanatombi.’

  ‘Sanatombi?’

  ‘Yes, Saheb, Her Highness and I live near each other.’

  ‘Isn’t her home in Wangkhei?’

  ‘She is no longer in Wa
ngkhei. She lives in Satpam Leikai with her mother.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘Her Highness is divorced from Manikchand.’

  ‘What?’ asked Maxwell in surprise.

  ‘Meaning they are living separately. They fought a lot. It’s been about a year.’

  The carpenter went on. Maxwell listened to him for a while and then quietly went inside his house. He felt the desire to know the real story. He would not be able to rest until he knew it. Had Sanatombi broken up with her husband at this young age because of what had happened two years ago when he was here? He remembered many events from the past. He felt blows strike at his heart as he remembered. He saw Sanatombi’s face as she rebuked him when they first met, Sanatombi in the moonlight as he took her on his horse, the woman who had fainted in the porch. But he did not think, he had not really thought, that matters would come to such a pass. He had thought that had been the end of the episode with Sanatombi, but it turned out it was not so. This time Maxwell really thought about Sanatombi, wondering—What should I do, what could I do? Have I been the cause of the break-up of her marriage? He loved Sanatombi but he had not thought this would happen, he thought remorsefully. In his long life as a soldier, in the midst of his many important duties, he had met Sanatombi in this distant land in all its green beauty. This bright spark was a flower that blossomed among the thorns—forbidden to touch, forbidden to get close to. And then he remembered too how she had looked hard at him that day when she was taken away by the Lady of Ngangbam. She had seemed to say—Are you going to do nothing? Shall I just have to leave? Maxwell remembered all this and thought—I must meet her. Now that I have heard of this, it would not be right to avoid her. He must know the truth.

  ‘Chonjon, is it true that Sanatombi has split up with Manikchand?’

  Chonjon told him everything but narrated it indirectly—Sanatombi’s marriage broke because of your scandal. This distressed him all the more; it was more bearable when he only suspected but did not know. He decided inwardly that he would meet her.