In Rajput families after a death there is normally a twelve-day period of mourning when remembrance gatherings or ‘Baithaks’ are carried out. There is a separate meeting place for ladies and men. Family members and others who call to express their condolences attend the baithaks at set times. It was trying and emotional, but we had to simply set aside our own personal feelings and attend to our guests and other family members who had taken the time and trouble to come and express their sympathies. The official ‘baithak’ according to tradition takes place at the old Junagarh Fort. We all went there so that the general public could see and greet us. The professional women mourners make it a point to attend all such occasions: they wail and cry loudly and wring their hands and create as much noise as possible. It was quite awful. I was accompanied by my aunt Maharani Jai Kanwar of Jashpur who was my father’s cousin. She gently told me not to get upset over the histrionics of these ladies and try as I might, I found it a herculean task not to break down.
My father held the titles of Grand Commander of the Order of the Vikram Star of Bikaner as well as the Order of the Sadul Star, the Order of State honour and the Africa Star Second World War campaign and the India service medal. Even though it was a life cut short at sixty-four years of age it was a life lived to the fullest. My father was a remarkable repository of knowledge; he had travelled widely, when travelling was not as common as it is today. He read voraciously and had the art of meeting and befriending all manner of people with equal ease. I imagine that in modern terms he was a person who was really comfortable in his own skin and so was able to relate easily to others. His interests were quite eclectic, ranging from ancient Egypt to space and the moon missions, modern art and science and of course hunting and shooting, photography, painting and golf. He could engage in an in depth discussion on any of these subjects and one came away always having learnt something new. He firmly believed that there was life on other planets. He told me many times,‘Biggy, space is infinite and there are infinite possibilities. Even as we speak, on another planet in some far off galaxy there is another Biggy like you talking to her father about life in outer space.’ I must confess, such a concept-though I presume may be possible-is something that I have not really been able to absorb, or at least I sincerely hope that there are not too many of me inhabiting the distant galaxies!. With my father’s death, so much knowledge vanished at a stroke: there was so much more that I could have learnt from him, what a terrible waste.
When compiling his memorial souvenir a year after my father’s death, the souvenir committee had requested his many friends and Parliamentary colleagues and other sports personalities to send in their messages. Rajmata Gayatri Devi of Jaipur’s message stood out in particular. She summed up his personality in a few short sentences:
‘Maharaja Karni Singh of Bikaner was gentleman in every sense of the word. He had a distinguished presence and personality. We first met at Lallgarh Palace in Bikaner when he was 6 and I was 10. Even at that young age he was the perfect host. On occasions in Delhi and Bombay when we met on the golf course he would ask me to join him. He had a sense of humour and those of us playing with him had a lot of fun together. I feel that had the Indian States remained he would have been an ideal ruler. I cannot recall anyone who did not like or respect him.’
The message from Mrs. Phiroza Talyerkhan, a close family friend of my parents reads:
‘My husband and I were very happy to know that you are bringing out a souvenir of Dr. Karni Singhji. Not only was he a Prince among Princes, to top-class Parliamentarian and a sportsman of great repute, but most of all, he was a fine man, with wonderful qualities of heart and mind. His going is not only a great loss to the nation and to Bikaner specially, but a shattering blow to his own family and all of us who were privileged to be his friends for so many years. No one can replace him; nor can we ever forget him for he was the finest of men.’
I would concur with those sentiments my father was and always will continue to be the biggest influence in my life, he was always there for me whenever I needed him and I am immensely grateful to him not only for giving me a wonderful childhood and education, but also for just about everything that I have and everything that I am. It is my wish to never let him down in any way., and to me no princely titles are necessary—the fact that I am the daughter of Maharaja Dr. Karni Singh of Bikaner is the only title that I will ever need. Though three decades have passed since he left us I still miss him every day of my life.
In the past, every princely family in India had an advisor or retainer who was only interested in feathering their own nests and to this end they did everything in their power to exploit the Maharaja or the heir apparent. It is a fact that in the Bikaner family for generations there existed a dispute between father and son, and it goes back to the time of the sixth Maharaja of Bikaner Raja Rai Singh. He, like most Maharajas had several sons; however, his heir and eldest son happened to be Dalpat Singh. Raja Rai Singh was of the opinion that his younger son Sur Singh who was more stable should succeed him. Raja Rai Singh in the service of the Mughal Emperors died in Burhanpur in 1612, Prince Sur Singh went to the Mughal Court to press his claim with the Emperor Jehangir to the Bikaner throne as per his father’s wishes. He had, however, been preceded by Dalpat Singh who had already sought and received the Emperor’s blessings to assume the title of his late father.
Jehangir soon regretted his support of the eccentric Dalpat Singh. The new Raja of Bikaner was an enigmatic personality, influenced partly by impulsive desires and partly by the sycophants of the Bikaner court. The history of the Indian princes is littered with innumerable examples of Maharaj Kumar’s becoming antagonistic towards their fathers or other members of the family, and falling prey to the reckless advice of court flatterers and devious aides. Very soon after assuming the title of Raja of Bikaner, Dalpat Singh who must have certainly been somewhat eccentric, showed his true colours when he under the misguided advice of his favourite minister, Purohit Man Mahesh, then laid claim to eighty-four villages belonging to his brother Sur Singh. Furthermore, he ordered the construction of a fort near present Anupgarh which greatly incensed the local Bhati inhabitants.
News of Dalpat Singh’s erratic behaviour soon reached Emperor Jahangir: understanding the error of his decision he gave full support to Sur Singh’s claim to the Bikaner throne. In addition, he deputed Zia-ud-Din’s forces to assist Sur Singh in ousting Dalpat Singh. However, eccentric he may have been, Dalpat Singh was no coward and soon forced Zia-ud-Din’s army to retreat. Reinforcements were sent for and eventually surrounded his band of men; soon, a member of his own staff betrayed him. Bhim Singh, the Thakur of Churu, a man considered loyal to the Maharaja, seized him and handed him over to Zia-ud-Din. After being incarcerated he made a desperate attempt at freedom but was again captured and died in battle in 1614.
The practise of controlling the Maharaja, Raja or Nawab and then inciting differences between him and his heir was common practise in almost every princely state. Many courtiers simply thrived on this friction; it was in fact their livelihood, as their prosperity depended on their influencing the Maharaja and in keeping the generations fighting. If they sensed a weakness in the Maharaja, be it for alcohol, drugs or the pleasure of female or male company, they ensured that there was a steady supply available at all times, so much so that they became an indispensable crutch to the ruler. Many a sound and solid kingdom has fallen into penury and ignominy due to the mischievous machinations of these dubious courtiers, which to a lesser degree, still goes on even today.
The conflict between father and son in Bikaner was not confined to medieval times alone. My great grandfather Maharaja Ganga Singh was a strong Maharaja and a very strict father; my grandfather Maharaj Kumar Sadul Singh in comparison was a soft and kind hearted man but despite that the staff that surrounded them in both camps made sure that there was never any real harmony between them. No doubt Maharaja Ganga Singh loved both his sons very much: in fact, his nickname for my grandfather was ‘Hiru�
� or diamond; and in turn, my grandfather showed utmost courtesy to his father who was not only his parent but also his Maharaja. However, there was a distance between them that only widened with time. The staff members on both sides fanned the flames and made sure that there was always some rumbling discord between them. The Maharaja had his own favourites such as Thakur Jeoraj Singh of Harasar whom he fondly referred to as ‘Jee’ and in turn, my grandfather had his own set of people that he favoured and when he became the Maharaja, many members of his father’s staff such as ‘Jee’ lost favour. Not only did the father and son not get on very well but there was great tension between the staff of both parties. Even though father and son lived in the same palace, albeit in different wings, they communicated by exchanging formal letters with each other instead of sitting down face to face and resolving whatever issues there might have existed between them.
In the early eighties, my father decided to collect and give the files and documents from the time of his father and grandfather to the archives of the Sadul museum, where they could be catalogued and kept safely for future reference. They were at that time kept in the appropriately named ‘File and Farman Store’, which was full to the rafters with hundreds if not thousands of dusty old files, farmans, from the Mugal period and old Karitas which were in fact, old record books of expenses incurred by the Ranis and Maharanis in years gone by.
My father suffered from a severe form of dust allergy, and so he tried his best to avoid exposure to this at all times; therefore, I was duly deputed to carry out the listing and sorting of files that could be handed over to the archives. I found numerous files full of correspondence from my grandfather to his father, all of them were extremely polite and courteous but with an underlying tension between the lines; this was correspondence of a private nature and in my opinion, not to be made available for research in future years. I finally asked my father if I had his permission to destroy these files as both great grandfather and grandfather were long gone and this sad correspondence served no purpose other than to leave a bitter legacy for those who may in the future have access to this material and as a result perhaps exploit it. My father agreed and I consigned these files to the flames.
In his turn my father and grandfather too had their own share of conflict, although they were on mostly good terms. In this particular case the members of staff were not so much to blame: my father was an educated man and he was deeply devoted to his mother, my grandmother. In those days, it was common practise for the Maharaja to keep several mistresses, many of whom, in olden times, used to commit sati on his funeral pyre. However, by the time my grandfather became the Maharaja it was normally one mistress who was officially called a ‘Paddayat’ or quaintly referred to as a ‘keep’. At family and other weddings at the time long before disco music and DJs became the popular norm, the most common form of entertainment for guests at weddings and banquets used to be the singers and dancers or the courtesans who would come and perform at such functions. My uncle Maharaj Amar Singh once told me that my grandfather first met a young Muslim dancer called Anwar at the wedding of my parents in Dungarpur; I am not entirely sure where exactly she came from as these entertainers used to travel from event to event as required.
My grandparents had a modern marriage—and to be perfectly blunt in days before contraception was a more exact science as it is today, my grandmother having had three children, decided that she wanted my grandfather to look to satisfy his more physical needs elsewhere. Once he met Anwar, grandfather was quite taken with her despite the fact that there was a huge difference in age. She was very young, however, but she agreed to become his official mistress and he shifted her to a palace called Vasant Vihar which is not very far from Lallgarh palace. Even though this practise was accepted by my grandmother, my father, a modern young man had other thoughts on the subject and he and his father had many arguments about this thorny issue, many of them in written communications between them, and several of which I also read, as my family believed in meticulously preserving all manner of correspondence, no matter how controversial or incendiary it may be. My grandfather treated my grandmother with utmost respect and ensured her dignity at all times, but perhaps that was not enough for my father. He was after all deeply attached to his mother.
My grandfather was a heart patient and suffered from high blood pressure, despite his relatively young age; perhaps his obesity was the root cause of this. The last time he left for London in 1950 for treatment, he was as always accompanied by several members of his staff and of course Anwar. My father, it appears had a disagreement with his father as he was about to leave Bikaner, and they parted company for the last time without of course either realising that it was so, in some discord. After my grandfather suddenly died while he was in England, my father was wracked with guilt and often used to tell me how bad he felt that his last words to his father had been intemperate and harsh ones.
My father told me that when the Bikaner party returned from London with the body of Maharaja Sadul Singh, Anwar also returned and at some point produced a list of items that my grandfather had gifted to her, my father was a fair and generous man and though he was not in favour of the outdated practise of official mistresses he however he decided to honour the wishes of his late father and permitted Anwar to take all that was gifted to her, she had expressed a wish that she wanted to leave with her family for Pakistan. My father told me that the only items that he decided not to let her take with her were the guns belonging to my grandfather, other than that she collected all her belongings and family and they chartered a flight which took them to Pakistan, as far as our family was concerned we never heard from her again.
Thakur Anand Singh or ‘Andy’, was an important member of staff during my father’s time. He had joined as a young man the staff of Maharaja Ganga Singh and had worked his way up over the years. My father used to take him along whenever he went abroad almost till 1968 when we went to San Sebastian for the World Shooting Championships. ‘Andy’ made all the arrangements for my parents and took care of the baggage and the details of the journey and in his spare time took many photographs and movies of the many shooting competitions that my father participated in; in fact, he pretty much made sure that he was an indispensable component in their household.
I recall as a child when we were in school in Delhi, Andy would arrive occasionally to brief my father about some work related matter in Bikaner. He would sometimes sit with us at the dining table when we had our meals and narrate the Mahabharata to us in the most interesting way, which ignited my lifelong interest in the mythological tale. Innocent children that we were at the time, little did we realise that in the decades to come, he would go on to play a negative role as a senior adviser in the family and in fact creating a sort of Mahabharat in our family.
Thakur Anand Singh was indispensable to my father. He handed all the accounts and correspondence and barring my father’s political affairs which were the province of Thakur Dalip Singh, he was pretty much in charge of everything. My father was so busy with his political career and his shooting competitions that he had little time to spare to deal with the more administrative side of his vast and highly complicated affairs- this is where Andy came in. Whether his mis-management at the helm of my father’s affairs was deliberate or not one can never be certain, but all I can say with some certainty is that he kept my father on edge at all times with fears, real or imagined.
After the demise of my father in 1988 it was as though the whole family was in freefall; it happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that no one was prepared for it. While he was alive, my father seemed to be the glue that held this family together—without him it was as though it was coming apart at the seams. Each family member, after the initial shock had passed, decided to push their own agendas. I was considered to be his ‘favourite child’ and it was not of my choosing, but quite obviously even without fully realising this there was an element of jealousy, there was not much that anyone could do about it while my fathe
r was alive but once he was gone, it seemed that it was ‘open season’—the long knives were out for me. I am not sure that during those few unsettled months whether it was my sheer good luck or the spirit of my father that protected me but I went through some very troubled and acrimonious times within our immediate family. In fact, now when I look back on that extremely dark period of time for our family, I am not quite sure how I managed to survive.
Thakur Anand Singh continued to advise my mother after the demise of my father, and as she had little or no experience in such matters, she was quite happy relying on him. He in turn felt that this was a golden opportunity in controlling my mother just as he had in the past more or less exercised his influence on my father, and in return benefiting from this. My own term for this is the ‘Rajmata syndrome’, whereby ageing ladies perhaps due to insecurity upon the death of their husbands and a desperate need to control those around them most often than not through monetary matters, play little mind games switching ‘favourites’ around like so many chess pieces. They are normally advised quite adversely by a small coterie of attendants who through the ignorance or lack of attention of the Rajmata figure also gain for themselves an influential position, status and of course, property among other financial gain. This of course created many misunderstandings in the family and was followed by friction and in fighting.
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