by Ranjit Desai
Shivaji looked up, his face confused.
Tukaram patted his shoulders with his trembling hands and said, ‘Raje, you are a shrimant. You are a shriman yogi, a born gyani. Your face is like Gyandev. Why would an ordinary man come to your place? Only the blessed have a place there. This was the behind.’
Raje then touched Tukaram’s feet and said, ‘Maharaj, I need your grace.’
‘Don’t worry about grace. Your mission is pure. You will receive the grace you need at the right time from the right person. The mridangam cannot produce music when you simply beat it. Similarly, a cymbal needs another cymbal to get the melodious music out of it. You will find your guru—don’t be impatient.’
Raje was overwhelmed on hearing the saint. It was late afternoon when Shivaji took leave from Tukaram Maharaj, who hugged him affectionately and said, ‘Don’t worry, Raje. Everything will be taken care of. Gyandev will ensure that you are well.’
#
It was late evening when Shivaji returned to Pune. He was about to enter his quarters when he saw Jijabai in the front courtyard.
She said, ‘The message from Ahmedabad arrived while you were in Alandi.’
‘That is good news!’ Shivaji exclaimed. ‘After all, his blessings couldn’t have been in vain! Maa saheb, you should have come along. We had the good fortune of meeting Tukaram Maharaj.’
‘Really?’ Jijabai said, folding her hands in namaskar at the thought of the great saint.
‘What a meeting! In those few moments, I learnt a lot. He assured me all our troubles will vanish.’ Shivaji eagerly read the message the moment he reached the office. Murad had replied and said, ‘We are in receipt of your request to join our forces. In case you decide to go ahead, please send your lawyer first so that we may get the necessary papers in place before you visit us. We shall then proceed further.’
Shivaji started the correspondence with Murad and word reached Adil Shah. He was already bedridden then and the news of Shivaji’s forces joining hands with the mighty Mughal army was not helping. He had no intentions of taking on the Mughal might. At the same time, a letter from Murad reached Shahaji. It was not possible for the Bijapur Badshah to hide the letter. It was, after all, a letter from the Mughal emperor himself. It said, ‘We are writing to you further to our partnership with Shivaji. We are thus sending you a royal farman and some clothes as a token of our appreciation and to welcome you to the Mughal durbar. Please acknowledge the same.’
It was clearly an invitation from the Mughal emperor and an indication that Shahaji was now officially a Mughal representative. It indirectly meant that taking care of him was now Adil Shah’s responsibility. Adil Shah had no choice but to invite Shahaji to his court. He had to release him, no doubt, but he put a few conditions as a face-saving measure; Shivaji would have to return the Kondana Fort and Sambhaji would have to give back Bengaluru and the fort at Kandarpi. Shahaji sent dispatches to both Sambhaji and Shivaji agreeing to the terms.
It had been ten months since his arrest. To soften the affront of the long imprisonment, Adil Shah offered Shahaji elephants and horses and bestowed on him the honorific of ‘Farzand’. Shahaji, in the meanwhile, having suffered so much, was getting increasingly disenchanted working under Adil Shah’s regime.
Shivaji received Shahaji’s letter and there were celebrations everywhere. Shivaji was unhappy at having to return Kondana but it was a compromise he was making for his father. He went for darshan to the Ganesha temple with Jijabai, Saibai and some others. He said, touching his head reverently on the floor, ‘The Lord has taken care of us.’
Sonopant observed, ‘I wonder when we will find happiness with no strings attached.’
‘This is pure happiness, Sonopant. There is no loss if we give up Kondana now. We have two hundred more forts to capture and we shall reclaim Kondana later. I don’t care if I have to give up a hundred such Kondanas for Maharaj’s sake.’
While returning from the temple Jijabai told Sonopant, ‘Let there be a deepotsav, a celebration of lights, at the temple today. Light a thousand lamps!’
The temple was brightly lit with oil lamps spreading their light and happiness all over the courtyard.
Jijabai returned from darshan late in the evening and said, ‘Raje, it has been a hectic day. I suggest you rest now. Your wise thinking has saved us from calamity.’
‘The credit does not belong to me,’ Shivaji said, looking at Saibai. ‘Your daughter-in-law deserves the credit. She was the one who suggested the plan.’
‘She is really smart, isn’t she?’ Jijabai said, adoring Saibai a little more.
#
Having returned the Kondana Fort to Adil Shah, Shivaji was quite certain that Adil Shah would not act aggressively for a while, and Shivaji could afford to breathe easy for a while. He had never felt so relaxed during the last few years. He had been busy guarding various forts and training his troops. Dadoji Konddev had set up a revenue-sharing system years ago which Shivaji ensured was properly implemented. Work began on building a dam at the Kondhve village to prevent water shortages in Pune. Raje also supervised building of another dam at Shivapur. Jijabai would take care of the problems at the palace and would make decisions if there were any arguments or disputes.
Shivaji would spend his spare time supervising the work at Purandar. The region of Khalat–Belsar flourished and the people were happy and could take loans to develop land. The common man had access to Raje and he could come and complain if there was any misuse of power by officials.
Shivaji had rules for both his troops and the common public. There would be regular inspections for the troops. No one was allowed to own horses as they were considered the property of the king. The soldiers were not allowed to marry or keep a harem. The death sentence was the punishment for disobeying these rules.
Shivaji returned one day from Purandar to find everyone in a great state of excitement. He called Manohari when he saw her hurrying inside, ‘Manohari, what is all the commotion?’
Manohari smiled, adjusting the water pitcher in her hand, and rushed inside without answering. Shivaji was unable to understand her strange behaviour. He reached Maa saheb’s quarters but there was no one there. Just then, Jijabai entered.
‘Maa saheb, what is all this excitement?’ he asked.
‘Raje,’ Jijabai said, smiling, ‘We have been busy since last night. I have been telling you not to go out for these few days.’
‘What happened?’
‘You are now Aba saheb! Raje, you have been blessed with a daughter. You have come back at the right time. I just got prasad from the temple and you can now distribute it.’
Raje could not contain his happiness and went to meet Saibai. The child was sleeping in the cot; he looked at her beautiful face and then, turning towards Saibai, asked, ‘Who does she resemble?’
Saibai, weak from the delivery, managed a smile and said, ‘She looks just like you.’
She continued, ‘May I ask you something? Are you a little disappointed that it is a girl and not a boy?’
‘Oh, not at all. I hope she follows your example.’
‘Meaning?’
Shivaji pondered for a moment and, looking at her said, ‘I hope she is someone who is able to forget her sorrows for the sake of someone else’s happiness.’
He left the room and Saibai had a faint smile playing on her lips. There were celebrations everywhere in the Lal Mahal Palace and the naming ceremony was conducted with great fanfare. She was named Sakhubai. Her birth had been at an auspicious time. Shahaji had been released from captivity; Shivaji was busy managing the affairs of the kingdom; and there was a general feeling of well-being and happiness among the people. Sakhu grew quickly, laughing and playing, and being pampered by one and all.
Six months after Sakhu’s birth, the news of Kanhoji Jedhe’s impending arrival reached the palace. He was Shahaji Raje’s right-hand man and when Shahaji had been arrested, he too had been put under captivity and was released along with Shahaji. The eld
er Maharaj had felt guilty that Kanhoji had to suffer imprisonment because of him and wanted Kanhoji to move away from Adil Shah’s court. He had, thus, sent Kanhoji to Pune. While departing Shahaji had said, ‘Kanhoji, my son Shivaji is in Pune. I want you to serve under him and protect him. Don’t hesitate to repel any attack including any from Adil Shah’s troops. May God be with you!’
Kanhoji took an oath to protect Shivaji till death and then proceeded to Pune. Shivaji looked forward to meeting Kanhoji. When Kanhoji arrived in Pune, a special palanquin accompanied him—Shahaji had sent Soyarabai, the girl Shivaji had married in Bengaluru, along with Kanhoji to Pune. The younger queen of Shivaji was welcomed into the palace with great fanfare. Kanhoji performed an elaborate mujra seeing Jijabai.
Shivaji welcomed him saying, ‘Kanhoji, I am glad to see you!’
‘Raje, Maharaj is proud of your actions and has sent me to help you in your mission.’
‘I am aware of your loyalty,’ and pointing towards Baji, he said, ‘Baji fought Fateh Khan and defeated him. We call him Sawai Baji now.’
‘One needs the right leader to show one’s bravery. Raje, I brought a few brave soldiers along with me. They are the chosen few and are well-versed in the techniques of war. They will sacrifice their lives for their leader and their loyalty is beyond doubt.’
Yesaji came in at that moment and seeing him in tears, Shivaji asked, ‘Yesaji, what happened?’
‘It is bad news, Maharaj.’
‘What happened?’
‘Tukaram Maharaj has left for his heavenly abode.’
Shivaji’s memories of his visit to Alandi came flooding back. The news was a shock to him. He said, his voice choked with emotions, as tears flowed down his cheeks, ‘We have lost a great soul. That simple yet realized soul! The body had worn itself out and yet his compassion was unparalleled. I will never forget that radiant face. We rule forts and regions with our might, but these saints—they rule the whole world. Gyandev, Sopandev, Muktabai, Namdev, Eknath—how many shall I name? They have kept the flame of goodness burning despite all odds. They have managed to take the purity of religion to the poorest of the poor. Kanhoji, we must ensure that such saints are treated with the utmost respect. Without them, our mission and the pursuit of this kingdom are of no use.’
Shivaji did not try to check the tears flowing down his cheeks as he spoke, reminiscing about Tukaram Maharaj.
Within a few days, Kanhoji left for Rohideshwar.
Shivaji had some time to devote for other matters as things had stabilized a bit. His strength was increasing by the day. A few weeks after Kanhoji’s departure, Maa saheb said, ‘Raje, I have an unfulfilled desire.’
‘Tell me what it is, Maa saheb!’
‘When your father was arrested in Bijapur, I had promised the Lord that when he is released, I will pay my respects at Mahabaleshwar, but I have yet not been able to go.’
‘I shall be happy to come with you.’
They made plans to leave for Mahabaleshwar. They met the saint Gopal Bhatt there and took his blessings. They prayed at the temple and donated jewels and clothes. While at Mahabaleshwar, Shivaji observed the dense jungles and valleys in Jawali and Koyna. He was impressed by the lovely valleys surrounded and protected by forts like Mahabaleshwar, Makrandgad and Mangalgad. Even Adil Shah would not venture into these forests so easily.
The person who controlled Jawali could keep his kingdom safe because it was almost impossible to capture the dense gorges. Jawali was under the rule of the Mores, who carried the title of ‘Chandrarao.’ The current ruler Chandrarao Yeshwant More was ruling thanks to Shivaji’s beneficence. However, Shivaji was not too sure of his loyalties. Shivaji returned from Mahabaleshwar but the jungles of Jawali lingered in his thoughts for a long time.
#
Shivaji stood alone on the terrace at Lal Mahal. He wondered where everyone was and there was no one to be seen outside in the courtyard too. He saw someone lighting the thousand-wick lamp and asked, ‘Who is there?’
‘It is me, Manohari, sir.’
She bent in namaskar and Shivaji asked, ‘Where is everybody today? I am not able to see my dear Sakhubai either.’
‘Yesajirao has taken her for a marriage ceremony.’
‘And what about Maa saheb?’
‘She is here. Shall I call for her?’
‘No, leave it.’
Shivaji turned at the sound of trumpets. There was a procession entering the courtyard.
‘It looks like the marriage party has arrived.’
‘Go and inform Maa saheb. I will wait for her downstairs.’
The procession reached the middle of the courtyard and Shivaji saw Jiva Mahala dancing to the beats of the drums while swinging his two swords. He was displaying his acrobatics by slicing up coconuts in the air. He would jump and in one sweep break open the coconuts while the crowd encouraged him. The bride and bridegroom arrived. Raje watched them for a while and then went inside to wear his turban.
Sakhubai sat in Yesaji’s lap. He said, indicating to the newly-weds who were touching his feet, ‘Maharaj, this is Ramu Kaka’s son Bhima and she is Ganga, the daughter of Sarjewar.’
‘Oh, it seems to be a case of a wedding within the family itself!’ Turning towards Sarjewar, Raje said, ‘I am angry at you.’
Sarjewar stepped forward adjusting his turban worriedly.
‘Please pardon me, Maharaj. But what crime did I commit?’
‘You did not invite me to your daughter’s wedding.’
‘Maharaj, this is a poor man’s wedding. How could I dare to call you?’
Shivaji pointed at Sakhubai, perched on Yesaji’s shoulders, and said, ‘So you decided to invite the small rat instead?’
Everyone laughed at the joke and Raje, turning to Jiva Mahala, said, ‘Jiva, I did not know you could do these acrobatics so well.’
Yesaji answered, ‘Maharaj, he is well-known for this. He is invited to each marriage to display his skills.’
Jiva was a little nervous and said in a meek voice, ‘Maharaj, this is all I know.’
Shivaji said, ‘It does not matter what you know. What matters is you know it better than anyone else.’
He turned to the newly wed groom and said, ‘So Bhimarao, you are lucky to get such a lovely girl as your wife. Will you be joining our new campaign?’
‘Of course, Maharaj,’ Bhima said confidently.
Shivaji asked, ‘You may be ready but have you taken permission from your new wife?’
Sarjerao replied, brushing his thick moustache with his fist, ‘Maharaj, she will not say a word. She is a daughter of Sarjerao. She has not married a man but a sword. She knows that if some calamity …’
‘Shut up, Sarjerao! Hold your tongue,’ Shivaji shouted. ‘Today is an auspicious day and not one for talk of calamities. I hope the dear girl has a long married life.’
The newly-weds stepped forward and bent low in namaskar. The wedding party then left the courtyard to the sound of trumpets and other musical instruments.
A few days later, Raje told Maa saheb, ‘I feel like making a visit to Shikhar Shingnapur. Would you like to come along?’
‘All right, let us leave in a few days.’
Shikhar Shingnapur was a Shiva temple on a hilltop a few miles from Phaltan and it was the seat of the family deity of the Bhosale family. A few horsemen had gone ahead as an advance party and the palanquins were ready to leave when Saibai asked, ‘May I come along?’
‘Sakhu is too small for the journey. It is better you stay back.’
‘Can you not go later? I too would love to come.’
‘That is not possible. I may not take you along this time but when I come back, I will bring back a lovely gift for you.’
‘What would that be?’ she asked, filled with curiosity.
‘Let that be the Lord’s wish. You will know when you see it.’
The camp near the base of the hills looked like a mini cantonment. There were soldiers posted at all strategic points
on patrol duty.
Jijabai asked, ‘Raje, does such a huge number of troops need to accompany us?’
‘They all wanted to take the opportunity to have darshan and it is a good change for them too.’
They performed the abhishek at the temple the next day. While taking prasad, Shivaji said, ‘Maa saheb, Bajaji Nimbalkar has come to meet you.’
‘Is that so? Where is he?’
‘He is waiting for us at the camp in the foothills.’
Bajaji Nimbalkar, Saibai’s brother, had been forced to become a Muslim and had been in the employment of Adil Shah. After the death of his Muslim wife, he lost Adil Shah’s patronage and had returned to Phaltan a disillusioned man. His first wife had died of shock when she had found out that he had been forced to convert. He was now waiting with his son Mahadji to meet Raje.
Bajaji’s horsemen stood at the edge of the camp. Bajaji himself stood with his hands folded, waiting for Jijabai to step out of her palanquin. He wore a Muslim-style turban, a little scrubby beard at his chin and a loose garment with a flowing pyjama.
Jijabai’s heart hurt to see him in Muslim garb. She said, ‘Bajaji, you remembered us now? After so many years?’
Bajaji flung himself at her feet. She could feel his tears flowing down.
‘Get up, Bajaji. Let bygones be bygones. I am happy that you have come back.’
Bajaji pleaded, ‘Maa saheb, pardon me and only then will I get up.’
‘Don’t be so obstinate and demean yourself. Get up now!’
Bajaji got up and wiped his tears. He said, ‘Maa saheb, I am not ashamed of falling at your feet in front of a million people. I do not have any self-esteem left in any case. Maa saheb, I may have become a Muslim but I am still a Hindu at heart. I am Sai’s brother.’ Pulling the five-year-old Mahadji towards him, he continued, ‘I am willing to do anything for this poor lad. Who will otherwise take care of him?’
He sobbed relentlessly. Jijabai, Shivaji and others watching him were overwhelmed and in tears themselves. Jijabai hugged him affectionately and said, ‘Don’t lose heart. After all, you are one of us and will always remain so. You were made a Muslim but that was not your fault. Maybe it is a test for Raje. Come, I am sure he will find a way out.’