Shivaji

by Ranjit Desai

  ‘I beg your pardon to come in unannounced,’ Baji said, ‘It is urgent news I bring. The moment Raje captured Chakan, the Amin of Shirval sent a complaint to the Badshah. He has deputed Fateh Khan to take care of the situation and I am told that he has left Bijapur.’

  Shivaji let out a deep sigh and said, smiling, ‘Baji, you know, I got scared when I saw you come in like this. I wondered what the bad news could be but this news is not surprising at all. In fact, it is later than expected. I am ready to face that Khan.’

  ‘Raje, it is fine at your age to show such courage, but this old man with grey hair needs to think twice before taking any steps.’

  ‘Baji, I don’t want to put you in any trouble. Maa saheb, all I need are your blessings. I will take care of the rest,’ said Shivaji, a mischievous look in his eyes as he bent to touch Maa saheb’s feet.

  Baji, rubbing his moustache with the back of his fist, said, ‘Raje, my wrists still command the same power as before. I am not used to being a mere bystander, observing from afar!’

  ‘Then get up, Baji! Let us gather everyone. It is your responsibility to ensure that we win our first battle at Purandar.’

  Baji bowed in mujra and moved to make arrangements at Purandar.

  Shivaji did not have a single moment’s rest now. He dispatched Tanaji and others to Purandar and the royal treasury was moved from Pune to Torna for safekeeping.

  Maa saheb said, ‘Raje, I too shall come to Purandar.’

  ‘No, Maa saheb. I shall ask Firangoji to stay back here with you. I am quite sure that Khan would not cross Katraj; and in case he does, I shall warn you in advance. I have no doubt I will be victorious. In fact, I am quite eager to see the outcome of this first clash.’

  ‘Raje, I am sure you will emerge victorious but be careful!’

  ‘Rest assured that I will be careful. My dreams are far too big now and I cannot get emotional and put my life in danger.’

  Raje chose an auspicious date, within a few weeks of receiving the news, and reached Purandar with Baji Pasalkar, and the excitement was palpable. There was adequate ammunition for the cannons positioned at strategic places. Piles of stones of various sizes were stacked along the walls for the catapults and hundreds of soldiers walked along the ramparts keeping guard. Within a day of reaching the fort, they began to receive news of Khan’s movements.

  Khan camped at Khalat–Belsar and sent one of his sardars, Balaji Haibatrao, with troops to Shirval, which was under the command of the Amin. Balaji reached Shirval along with his men and camped in the small Subhanmangal Fort.

  ‘Raje, we are ready to face Balaji Haibatrao,’ one of the sardars said.

  ‘I don’t want to wait for him—we must move ahead and intercept him.’

  Kavji Malhar stepped forward and said, ‘Raje, you are absolutely right. I am familiar with the fort at Shirval. Give me the chance to lead!’

  ‘Shabbash, Kavji! You are the first volunteer; and hence, this right is yours. Capture Balaji before he settles there. Move tonight.’

  Baji Pasalkar was the eldest there and he said, ‘Raje, it is amavasya tonight. Would it not be advisable to move tomorrow?’

  ‘It may be amavasya tonight but tomorrow is pratipada, the first day of the lunar month, and a victory on pratipada would be even more auspicious. To achieve that, we need to move tonight.’

  The men got ready while the fort was illuminated by the light of the mashaals. The stars lit up the moonless sky as Kavji and his men got down the fort. Shivaji came to see them off and said, ‘Kavji, this is our first foray. I need a victory but I want all of you back for us to celebrate together. Take care!’

  The men moved towards the Subhanmangal Fort at the crack of dawn. Seeing the Maratha troops, the Adil Shahi troops ran to take refuge inside the fort. Kavji was emboldened seeing Shirval being abandoned by the Adil Shahi troops and he attacked Subhanmangal mercilessly.

  The Adil Shahi troops peering from the ramparts were targeted by arrows shot expertly from below while the others continued battering the walls with iron rods and ploughs. Kavji was busy hammering away at the iron gates. The men inside the fort first threw boulders and then, in panic, they started throwing whatever they could lay their hands on including kitchen utensils. The sardars inside the fort crowded into the inner rooms fearing imminent death.

  Soon, the door of the fort was broken open and shouts of ‘Har Har Mahadev!’ rent the air. Combat ensued everywhere and the houses inside were torched. Huge clouds of smoke rose from Subhanmangal and there was chaos all over. Suddenly, Kavji spotted Balaji Haibatrao who had started running the moment he realized that he had been overpowered. Kavji balanced his spear in his right hand and ran behind him. Balaji was about to take cover in a room when the spear hurled by Kavji found its mark and he fell. The news of his death spread like wildfire and there was further chaos. Within the next hour, the fort was captured. By evening, the Maratha flag fluttered at Subhanmangal Fort and Shivaji got the news soon after.

  They had captured a lot of horses, elephants, jewellery, palanquins and weapons. The men stood in front of Raje as the loot was arranged for display. Shivaji said, ‘Shabbash, Kavji! You have won the first battle for our Swaraj. Fateh Khan will soon be forced to come out of Khalat–Belsar as a snake is out of its hole. He will surely challenge us here, and we will await his arrival.’

  Shivaji’s estimate turned out right. Fateh Khan, hearing the massacre at Shirval, marched towards Purandar and started climbing the steep slopes. Shivaji stood at the ramparts, observing the approaching enemy, while Baji Pasalkar walked back and forth at the edge, contemplating the next action. The moment the enemy was within striking distance, the cannons roared and Maratha soldiers streamed out of the fort with shouts of ‘Har Har Mahadev!’ The enemy was bombarded with cannon balls and huge boulders from catapults.

  There was chaos within Fateh Khan’s troops. Those who had managed to reach the doors of the fort were massacred while the rest ran for their lives. Shivaji saw Baji Pasalkar jumping on a horse when he asked, ‘Baji, where are you going?’

  ‘Raje, I have spent my lifetime waiting for victory. How can I just sit and watch? I shall return only when we are victorious.’

  He spurred his horse forward before Shivaji could say anything. Fateh Khan was desperately trying to assemble his troops back to fight. Baji charged right into the Muslim troops, attacking Muser Khan, Fateh Khan’s right-hand man. Godaji Jagtap came to his aid and flung his spear at Muser Khan, at his thigh. Khan, wild with anger and pain, pulled the spear out and broke it into two pieces. He charged at Godaji with his sword while Godaji waited for the opportune moment to strike back. His sword pierced his shoulders and Muser Khan fell down. Seeing him critically wounded, Fateh Khan lost his nerve and began to retreat.

  Baji Pasalkar shouted at his men, seeing him running away, ‘Don’t leave a single enemy alive. Let them know that if you dare enter Maval, you cannot escape alive.’

  The Maratha soldiers, already heady with the victory at hand, ran after Khan. They chased the Muslims right up to Belsar and there was massacre at the cantonment. The Maratha troops chasing Khan could be seen from the fort and Shivaji waited to welcome the victorious warriors.

  The Maratha soldiers returned to the base of the fort the next evening, having defeated the Mughals at Belsar. Shivaji stepped forward to receive Godaji Jagtap. ‘Godaji, we won!’

  ‘Yes,’ Godaji said, nodding but there was no happiness in his voice.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Baji is wounded.’

  Shivaji noticed a palanquin being placed carefully on the ground and rushed toward it.

  Baji lay inside with his eyes closed and his clothes were soaked with blood. His white hair was ruffled and there were streaks of blood all over his face and forehead. His whiskers shivered as he tried to speak.

  Shivaji exclaimed, ‘Baji!’

  Baji opened his eyes and smiled when he saw Shivaji looking at him. He squeezed Raje’s hand and said, �
�Raje, we have won!’

  ‘Baji, what have you done to yourself? We were sure of the victory. Where could that Fateh Khan have hidden? Why did you put yourself into this situation?’

  Baji said, ‘Raje, we have won. What is there to feel sad about? I am an old man. I could not have asked for a better way to die. Smile, Raje. I have been holding myself to see that smile of victory on your face. Fulfil this last wish of mine.’

  Shivaji forced a smile and the next moment he felt Baji’s hand go limp. Shivaji covered his face with the shawl and got up, wiping his tears. He said, ‘Godaji, we have managed to get victory on the pratipada. But we shall never get back this crescent moon. Even the full moon at poornima shall miss this lovely crescent.’

  #

  Shivaji honoured all those who had fought in the war at Purandar. The entire Maval region was drenched in happiness after the victory at Khalat–Belsar. But their happiness was not to last for long. There was an urgent message from Bengaluru and Shivaji was disturbed on reading the message. He told Jijabai, ‘Maa saheb, I have received a message from Dada Maharaj in Bengaluru.’

  ‘What is Sambhaji saying?’

  ‘It seems the entire Bhosale family is a pet enemy of Adil Shah’s. We had Fateh Khan and Balaji attacking us; and likewise, Farhad Khan and Tanaji Durre were sent by Adil Shah to attack Bengaluru. But Dada Maharaj repulsed their attack and Farhad Khan had to return empty-handed.’

  ‘By God’s grace, this is good news then!’

  Shivaji let out a deep sigh and said, ‘No, Maa saheb! This is going to cost us heavily. While we were busy defeating Fateh Khan, Maharaj saheb in the south was getting caught in Adil Shah’s trap. Mustafa Khan has betrayed and arrested Maharaj saheb.’

  ‘Shivaji, what are you saying? Is that true?’ exclaimed Jijabai.

  ‘Maa saheb, listen to the tale of our misfortune. Baji Ghorpade of Mudhol entered the palace in the middle of the night when Aba saheb slept. There was a fight between Ghorpade and Aba saheb, and Shahaji Raje, who would enter the court atop an elephant and whose prestige was known far and wide, was chained by his ankles and marched like a common criminal into Bijapur. He was presented in Adil Shah’s durbar by Afzal Khan on the day of Nawroz.’

  Tears welled up in Maa saheb’s eyes. Her voice was shaking when she asked, ‘What happened then?’

  ‘What more was to happen? Maharaj saheb is a prisoner of Adil Shah. Maa saheb! Afzal Khan and Ghorpade will have to suffer. It is not a joke to put Shivaji’s father in chains. Anyone who dares to do such a thing will have to pay for it.’

  ‘Whatever has to happen will happen, Shivaji. What are you planning now?’

  ‘I am not sure, Maa saheb. I have instigated the enemy, and they are baying for my blood. I don’t think they would release Maharaj saheb unless we surrender.’

  Shivaji clenched his fist in anger and said, ‘Adil Shah has played a dirty trick. I feel I should send a message to Dada Maharaj and attack Bijapur right away.’

  ‘Do you think Adil Shah would attack us?’ asked Jijabai.

  ‘Adil Shah would not act in haste either. He is aware that any harm done to Maharaj saheb will not be tolerated by other Hindu sardars including us—he knows that very well,’ Shivaji said.

  Raje managed to console Jijabai but he was unable to quieten his own mind. Each day brought more worries. He did not dare to see Jijabai’s face, creased with worries of an unknown fear. Shivaji remembered Murar Jagdev. He too had been a maharaj like Shahaji Raje but Adil Shah had not spared him. Capturing Purandar had meant thumbing a nose at Adil Shah.

  Lying on his bed, Shivaji was lost in these thoughts when Saibai entered the room.

  She asked, ‘Why aren’t you sleeping yet?’

  Shivaji paced the room. ‘I am not able to sleep. I keep worrying about Maharaj saheb. I cannot imagine what Maa saheb must be going through. Each day while combing her hair and putting the sindoor, she must shudder while thinking of any mishap.’

  ‘For his safey, Maa saheb has called a few Brahmins for lunch, and there is a puja at the Ganesh temple. I too am fasting.’

  ‘God helps those who help themselves, Sai. Merely feeding Brahmins will not help. There needs to be some action.’

  ‘What are you planning?’

  ‘There is no point in just sitting here idly. Rather than surrender, I am tempted to march on Bijapur.’

  ‘Are you sure of a victory?’

  ‘I doubt it. But isn’t it better than leading a life of cowardice? What do you say?’

  Saibai thought for a moment and said, ‘What can a woman like me say about politics but I feel …’

  ‘Tell me!’

  ‘No, leave it. You will laugh at me.’

  ‘No, tell me. I won’t laugh.’

  ‘I don’t understand politics but I can follow a game of chess. If you are not confident of winning, you should not make that move in chess. You need not defeat a rook with a queen. You can send a knight or a bishop instead.’

  Shivaji was surprised at the analogy and stopped pacing. ‘You can defeat a rook with a knight or a bishop …’ he mumbled.

  He rushed to put on his sandals and said, ‘Sai, wake up Maa saheb and I will assemble others. We have found a solution!’

  The palace was lit with oil lamps and the key officials waited in the office.

  Maa saheb asked, ‘Raje, what is this urgent meeting all about?’

  Shivaji looked at everyone assembled in the room and said, ‘How would you react if I told you that I have decided to attack Bijapur?’

  ‘I would say it is suicidal.’

  Raje looked at Nilojipant and asked, ‘Where is Shahzada Murad these days?’

  ‘He is camping at Ahmedabad.’

  ‘Nilojipant, send word to Shahzada. Say that I would consider it my privilege to work under him. I would have come to pay my regards personally but for the fact that Adil Shah has arrested my father. I shall make myself available the moment I hear from him.’

  ‘Wah, Raje! It is a superb diplomatic move,’ the finance minister commented.

  A rider with the message was dispatched that very night to Ahmedabad.

  #

  A few days later, Jijabai was surprised to see Shivaji in her quarters early in the morning.

  ‘Raje, why are you up so early? You look like you haven’t slept well.’

  ‘Maa saheb, I have been worried the whole night. It has been many days since we sent the message to Ahmedabad and we have not received a reply yet. I am not sure what that Afzal Khan and Baji Ghorpade are up to. But I am sure Maharaj saheb will be released safely.’

  ‘I hope your words come true. I have been on tenterhooks ever since we got the news. If I see a rider coming into the fort, I wonder if there is bad news. If someone shouts loudly, I get startled. I have been praying to the Lord non-stop and I hope He showers his blessings.’

  ‘I have been wanting to visit Alandi for a few days, and I woke up this morning with that thought.’

  ‘Please do go. After all, the Lord is our saviour in such hard times.’

  It was a pleasant summer morning. Shivaji and his men crossed many streams and rivulets on their way and reached the banks of Indrayani by noon. Shivaji folded his hands in salutation on seeing the temple of Gyaneshwar. A hundred-odd horsemen stood outside at the temple while Shivaji entered the temple with a few select men. He touched the steps of the temple reverently and went in.

  The temple priest came forward with his tray with flowers in it.

  Shivaji placed a bag of coins and precious stones in the priest’s tray. As soon as Shivaji turned to leave the temple, he found a huge crowd waiting for him outside. Yesaji came forward and after saluting said, ‘Tukobarai is coming here.’

  ‘This is really a lucky day for us,’ Shivaji said, coming out of the sanctum sanctorum. He scanned the temple courtyard with hungry eyes searching for Tukaram Maharaj.

  A crowd danced and swayed as trees move in the wind. The wave was led by Tukaram, his frame drum
providing the beats. His eyes were closed and he sported a big tilak on his forehead. He was barefoot and wore a short dhoti covering his knees. He wore a short half-sleeved shirt while his head was covered with a small flat turban. The crowd came to the temple steps and broke up into two sections. In the middle stood Tukaram, singing and dancing to the beats of his kanjira, unaware of anything around him. The dance stopped momentarily while Tukaram looked at the idol lovingly. The beats were now softer and the mridangam had stopped playing.

  Tukaram prostrated himself in front of the idol and when he got up, the crowd surged forward to touch his feet. The moment they saw Shivaji, they gave way. Raje put his head reverently at Tukaram’s feet.

  Pulling him up, Tukaram said, ‘Raje! How many times have I told you not to do this? Why would a raja like you touch the feet of a poor man like me?’

  ‘Maharaj!’

  ‘I am not a Maharaj,’ he said. Pointing to Gyaneshwar’s idol he said, ‘He is.’

  Raje felt awkward and was silent for a while. Tukaram looked at Shivaji’s face lovingly and exclaimed, ‘Aha! What lovely face you have. I am reminded of Gyandev when I see you. He opened up the doors of knowledge—you will fulfil his mission.’

  Tukaram made his way through the crowd holding Shivaji’s hand. Shivaji was overwhelmed by the love and affection being showered on him. They came into a wide courtyard and someone spread a coarse blanket on the ground.

  Shivaji said, ‘Maharaj, I have a request. I wish you would bless our house by visiting us once. Let me know and I shall send for a palanquin and other help.’

  Tukaram Maharaj laughed loudly and, wiping a tear from his eye, said, ‘Why are you taking all these troubles?’

  ‘We would like to have darshan of your good self. We would love to have you in our palace.’

  ‘Raje, what darshan are you talking about? What is the pleasure in seeing this man in this dirty old attire?’

  Shivaji was a bit despondent hearing Tukaram. However, Maharaj realized Shivaji’s feelings and said, ‘Raje, don’t get upset. What can I ask for? If I ask for food, then the alms I get are more than sufficient. Even the weight of these tattered clothes is but a burden for my body. I have the earth as my bed and the sky as my blanket. People go to kings for recognition, but I feel suffocated. What will a common man like me do there?’