Shivaji

by Ranjit Desai

  Raje’s mind was preoccupied with Jijabai’s illness who had been feeling very weak and tired ever since the coronation ceremony and was bedridden. As he moved towards her quarters, he met Nischalpuri Gosavi, the tantric. Raje knew that he had not been happy with Gaga Bhatt’s nomination as leader of the coronation ceremony and they did not see eye to eye. One was a scholar of the Vedas and the other a hermit who practised penance. But Raje had to find ways to manage both as he respected their views. Nischalpuri stood facing Raje—he was a symbol of penance with his dried, matted hair, his body covered in ash and with barely any muscles, his body having been withered away in penance. He wore a tiger skin and Raje said, ‘I am told you are leaving now.’

  ‘I have to. The time chosen by Gaga Bhatt for the coronation was not an apt one. It is a similar day to those on which your commander-in-chief Prataprao died and so did your queen. Also, the sighting of a meteor was not a good omen. I foresee some difficult times on the thirteenth, fifty-second and sixty-fifth days from now.’

  Raje was a worried man. He said, ‘You know everything. Tell me, how can we ward off this evil?’

  ‘I will help you, don’t worry. If you see any portentous signs, let me know. I will take care of it.’

  Raje was momentarily relieved with his assurance but the predictions rankled in his mind and he was restless.

  #

  Jijabai was weak with fever. She thought that the weather at the fort was not suiting her and that she would be better off at Pachad. Raje reluctantly agreed, asking Putlabai and Sambhaji to accompany her.

  Turning to matters of court, he addressed his council of ministers the next day, ‘From now onwards, all decisions will be taken by the council. We must implement what the council says. It is not my sole decision anymore.’

  ‘We are always here to advise …’ Annaji began.

  ‘It is not advice I am asking for, Annaji. I want decisions to be taken by the council. The task is huge and we cannot depend on one person.’

  The ministers were a little restless. They knew they had a huge responsibility ahead.

  ‘How much did we spend on the coronation, Niraji?’

  ‘About a crore hons, Raje.’

  ‘Levy an additional tax to recover the amount.’

  ‘I am sure the people will pay that willingly.’

  ‘I don’t want the people at large to be taxed. We must recover this from the hereditary landlords like the Patils, Kulkarnis and Deshmukhs. Also, let us not tax the people of Pune who have already suffered a lot since the Mughals raided the city.’

  Raje was having his afternoon siesta when he was woken up by Sambhaji. Seeing his teary-eyed face, Raje asked, ‘What is the matter?’

  ‘It is Maa saheb. Her health is deteriorating.’

  Raje immediately got off his bed.

  Moropant, hearing the news, rushed towards him. ‘Shall I arrange for a palanquin?’

  ‘No, it is all right,’ Raje said, ‘I will walk down.’

  The servants ran ahead as Raje walked down briskly towards Pachad. As soon as he reached Jijabai’s quarters, Raje asked, ‘Maa saheb, have you taken any medicine?’

  ‘Sambhaji has sent a message to Ganga Shastri at Mahad. But Shivba, what is the point in torturing this body anymore. A leaf, once withered, has to fall down someday, isn’t it?’

  Raje did not respond. He was waiting for the physician to arrive. By evening, everyone including Soyarabai, Rajaram, Sagunabai and others had assembled at the haveli at Pachad.

  Ganga Shastri arrived the next day. After checking her pulse, he was silent for a while, his face sombre.

  ‘Vaidyaraj?’ Raje asked.

  Ganga Shastri took some time to respond, adjusting his turban, clearing his throat and fiddling with his medicine basket. He said, finally finding his voice, ‘Maharaj, I am just a physician. I can treat an illness if there is one. But I cannot treat someone with no ailment.’

  ‘I don’t understand, Vaidyaraj.’

  ‘I can give her some medicines to satisfy you but she needs to decide whether she wants them. If she does not want to live, we can do nothing.’

  Raje left the room and walked into an adjacent room, worried that he may burst into tears in front of everyone. Recovering after a while, he asked Sambhaji to take Rajaram away. As he sat near Jijabai’s bed, his tears flowed freely. He felt Jijabai’s weak hand holding his palm.

  She said, ‘Shivba, you are not a child anymore. These tears do not become you. Remember, you held me back when I wanted to fling myself on your father’s funeral pyre? You said you wanted me to witness your victories. Now you have been crowned Chhatrapati. I have seen everything now.’

  ‘Maa saheb!’

  ‘Shivba, can I live through your lifetime? It is a blessed soul who leaves the world after witnessing her son’s valour and achievements. And even if I die, it is only my body which is mortal. My thoughts, wishes, blessings—they are all with you. Please don’t shed tears when you think of me. My soul would be tortured seeing you so. Just turn back and you will know that I am there with you, like your shadow.’

  Jijabai took a pause and then continued, patting his back, ‘Rajaram and Sambhaji—they are still immature. You will need to manage Sambhaji. I did what I could. But now you need to take care.’

  The effort to speak had tired Jijabai. She was still for a while, her eyes closed. Seeing her drifting into sleep, Raje stepped out of the room silently.

  A strange fear of death had enveloped the haveli. Nirajipant had called a few Brahmins who chanted their mantras softly, adding to the sombre mood. The feeling of being orphaned overwhelmed Raje and he could not stop tears from flowing.

  After a while, Jijabai opened her eyes. Seeing Raje sitting next to her she said, ‘Raje, you need to rest now.’

  ‘Maa saheb, how are you feeling?’

  ‘What can I say? I asked you not to shed tears, didn’t I? Now wipe them away. I have been lucky to have witnessed all your valour. It is better to be detached now.’

  ‘Maa saheb!’

  ‘Shivba!’

  Seeing Sambhaji near her feet, Jijabai tried getting up a little. He was sobbing uncontrollably. She said, ‘Shambhu dear, don’t cry now.’ Turning to Raje, she said, ‘Shivba, I am worried about this child. You need to take care of him. Please don’t berate him even if he errs. You need to be compassionate. He does not have his mother to look after him.’

  At that moment, Annaji rushed into the room saying, ‘Maharaj, Samarth is here!’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Samarth Ramdas Swami.’

  Raje got up hurriedly.

  Jijabai said, ‘This is my good fortune. I will finally be able to see him.’

  Raje rushed out of the room. Nirajipant was waiting outside. Raje asked, ‘Where is Samarth?’

  Niraji pointed in the direction of Samarth Ramdas as he walked up the steps to the verandah.

  Rushing to meet him, Raje fell at his feet. Samarth lifted him up as he muttered his blessings. He asked, ‘How is Aai saheb’s health?’

  Raje could barely answer and the words choked in his throat. Samarth too was overwhelmed with emotions and said, putting his hand on Raje’s shoulder, ‘Whatever happens, it is Lord Ram’s wish.’

  ‘The vaidyaraj too has given up, Maharaj. I don’t know what to do. I …’ Raje’s voice was barely audible.

  Hugging him Samarth said, ‘Raje, hold yourself together. Let us go in.’

  As they walked towards Jijabai’s chambers, Raje asked, ‘Have you come alone?’

  ‘My disciples will soon follow. I was impatient and rushed when I heard of her condition.’

  As soon as they entered the room, Jijabai made an effort to get up and said, ‘Samarth, you have come! I am blessed.’

  ‘Don’t exert yourself, Aai saheb! I had made a commitment to Shivaji Raje; and hence, I had to come. I am a mere ascetic, Mother! I pray to Lord Ram and he shows me the way.’

  Jijabai was abashed. She folded her hands and said, ‘M
aharaj, now that I have met you, there is nothing else I want. But Maharaj …’

  ‘Please command, Mother!’

  ‘Don’t embarrass me …’

  ‘I don’t lie, Mother. Your greatness makes me say so!’

  Jijabai smiled. She said, ‘I am worried about Shivba. He needs a guardian and somebody’s affection. I entreat you to be his guardian.’

  Samarth’s face turned serious. His eyes were agonized for a brief moment and then he said, his voice a little hoarse, ‘Mother, I don’t think I am capable of doing that. You have proven that you were a true mother to an illustrious son. To me, he is not a king—he is God incarnate! He is the result of the tapas of many like me. He has descended here like Lord Ram to create heaven on earth. But you need not worry. He is capable of managing himself. Our land, religion and God—they are all quite safe in his hands. This is Lord Ram’s will too.’

  Tears flowed down Jijabai’s cheeks as she heard Samarth’s words.

  ‘Mother, just focus your attention on Lord Ram now. He will take care of everything. I will take your leave.’

  Jijabai folded her hands as Samarth left the room.

  As night fell on the haveli, the torches flickered in the winds. Jijabai was gasping for breath and there was a flurry of activity everywhere. Samarth sat on his tiger skin, lost in deep meditation. A holy fire burnt before him. At midnight, a loud wail erupted from the chambers. Tears trickled down Samarth’s cheeks as he continued to sit in his meditation.

  #

  The next morning, after the funeral rites, everyone returned to the haveli. Not a single person could stop their tears. Jijabai had touched everyone’s lives and they now felt an immense void. A huge presence had suddenly vanished, leaving everyone at a loss.

  Raje’s sorrow knew no bounds. He had not stepped out of his quarters ever since returning from the funeral. Sambhaji too was in a state of deep sorrow. His mother had died when he was very young and Jijabai had been his surrogate mother. He was now orphaned once again.

  Moropant was worried. He sought Samarth’s advice.

  Samarth said, ‘What can I do, Pant? I understand his loss and while I may be a sanyasi I am human. I am not able to bring myself to go to him. Death is inevitable but such a relationship is extremely rare. She was not just his mother but his best advisor, his moral support and the one who shaped his personality. What can words do to soothe his soul? He has to find his own way out of this.’

  Moropant was in tears. He said, ‘Everyone looks to Raje for support. He cannot sit alone in his mahal while the rest are looking for him. We need to do something. I beg you!’

  Samarth said, ‘I agree with you. Let me try speaking to him.’

  Raje was lying down on his bed when Samarth entered the room. Hurriedly getting up, Raje touched Samarth’s feet. As Samarth pulled him up by his shoulders, a sob escaped Raje’s lips. He was uncontrollable now, as if he had been waiting for Samarth’s touch. They stood embracing till Raje’s sobs subsided.

  Samarth said, ‘Raje, you need to control yourself now.’

  Raje shook his head. ‘It is not possible, Maharaj. Maa saheb is dead—I have lost everything.’

  ‘Raje, I understand. Death is inevitable from the moment you are born. See how lucky she was—she was able to see your coronation. How many mothers can say they left the world with such satisfaction? And how many sons can give this contentment to their mothers? This is when you should feel blessed rather than cry for the departed soul. Do you think her soul will be happy to see you morose?’

  ‘The mind agrees but the heart is unwilling.’

  Samarth’s voice turned harsh. He said, ‘Then you are the one who is responsible for her death.’

  ‘Me? What did I do?’

  ‘Had you not got your coronation, she may have survived, however frail and bent with age, waiting for the day her Shivba would ascend the throne. But you fulfilled her last desire. She had no further reason to live. She left, all her wishes fulfilled.’

  Raje wiped his tears, realizing his folly.

  Samarth said, ‘I am leaving now, Raje. Shed your ignorance. You have the huge responsibility of your people on your shoulders and you have neither the right nor the time to be selfish about your own personal sorrows.’

  Samarth left with a heavy heart, knowing that he had assigned a huge task to Shivaji. In the haveli at Pachad, a lonely Shivaji sat on his bed. He felt alone, terribly alone now.

  #

  Raje busied himself with making donations to Brahmins and feeding the poor, but there was no respite from his sorrow. The gap was impossible to fill. Each day, the sardars would stream in to express their condolences and it would trigger Raje’s tears over and again.

  One night, Raje woke up to find himself shivering and damp with sweat. Putlabai stood nearby. He asked, ‘What happened?’

  ‘You were shouting “Maa saheb, Maa saheb!” in your sleep. I rushed when I heard that.’

  Raje could recall the dream vaguely. Maa saheb, dressed in a white sari had woken him up and indicated him to follow her as she turned to leave the room. Raje had shouted her name to stop her. At that moment he had woken up. Raje was upset. He said, ‘I search for her everywhere but I am not able to find her. Now that I’ve seen her in my dreams, you come and wake me up? Can you not leave me alone and let me be with her even for a moment?’

  Putlabai was shocked by Raje’s words. All she could manage to do was stifle her sobs by pushing her fist into her mouth as she rushed out of the room.

  It was a rainy morning. The monsoon was now gathering strength and it poured the whole day. Annaji came to meet Raje. He said, ‘Raje, we need to move to the fort now.’

  ‘Why? Who says so?’

  ‘The order was given by the younger queen.’

  Raje’s anger erupted. He asked, as soon as Putlabai entered the room, ‘Who did you ask before giving these orders?’

  Putlabai looked straight in his eyes and said, ‘Since the coronation, you have not visited the fort. People are waiting for you to take charge but no one dares to say anything.’

  Raje said, his voice in a mocking tone, ‘So you decided to instruct me, did you? Perhaps you have taken Maa saheb’s place?’

  Putlabai’s face creased with pain. She said, now angry at the needless assault, ‘No one can take her place. She is no more and she will not be here anymore, in case you don’t know.’

  ‘Rani saheb!’

  ‘I am trying to tell you the truth but you won’t listen. You can stay here forever but you will not find her. Had you been the head of one family, I would not have said anything. But you head a million families. Just because your mother is no more, can you …’ Her voice trailed away.

  ‘Enough, Rani saheb!’ Raje’s voice was tired. He had no energy to fight anyone. He said, in a resigned tone, ‘Annaji, get the palanquin ready. I will move to the fort now.’

  ‘Let the rains subside a little.’

  Raje laughed. Putting his hand on Annaji’s shoulder, he said, ‘Since when have we stopped because of the rain? We have to get drenched a lot in the future. There is work to do. Come on now!’

  The palanquin bearers moved at a rapid pace. Through the pouring rain, Raje could see the hazy outlines of Raigad.

  #

  The celebrations at Raigad had ended abruptly due to Jijabai’s demise. Soon, the temporary residences and the bazaars erected for the coronation were wound up. It added to the desolate atmosphere at the fort, which were made worse by the rains.

  It had been more than a fortnight since Jijabai’s death when one afternoon, after his siesta, Raje woke up to find it raining outside. Manohari informed that Rajaram had a fever. While going to Soyarabai’s quarters, Raje stepped into the verandah. It was a pleasant afternoon, and the valley looked serene and beautiful. A little distance away, Raje could see Putlabai standing near the window of her quarters, lost in thought. For a moment, he thought of calling out to her but decided against it.

  Stepping into So
yarabai’s quarters, he found Rajaram on the bed.

  ‘What happened, Bal Raje?’ Raje asked, fondling his hair gently.

  ‘Just a little fever, Aba saheb. I got drenched the other day when we came up the fort. Where is Dada Maharaj,’ Rajaram asked.

  ‘I too was wondering where he is. I haven’t seen him since the morning.’

  ‘How will you?’ Soyarabai said. ‘He is in Pachad.’

  ‘He misses Maa saheb. Maybe he went …’

  ‘He went to enjoy some dance and songs,’ Soyarabai interrupted.

  Raje raised an eyebrow questioningly. Soyarabai continued, ‘After he invited some dancers for the coronation ceremony, he has asked them to stay back. He goes down to the haveli to enjoy their music.’

  ‘So what is wrong with that?’ Raje asked. ‘He is young. Let him enjoy the music if he wants to.’

  ‘That is why I haven’t mentioned this to you earlier because I knew you would take it lightly. You only listen to the younger queen in any case.’

  ‘What about it, Rani saheb? Please speak your mind.’

  ‘Would you have come here in the pouring rain had she not insisted? And poor Rajaram, he fell ill after having got drenched.’

  Raje realized that it was better to stay silent. He got up and left. He remembered Putlabai standing at the window. He turned towards her quarters, and at that moment, Putlabai came out smiling.

  ‘What were you doing at the window? You seemed lost in thought.’

  The gusts of wind were making it difficult for Putlabai to manage her sari and her hair. She tried desperately to control them much to Raje’s amusement.

  Raje said, ‘You seemed preoccupied. Tell me what is on your mind, Putla.’

  ‘You know how women think … I was worried …’

  ‘Worried about what?’

  ‘Your coronation is over and it is the highest honour you have received. The sun always dips once it reaches the zenith. The full moon too has to wane. And so, I was worried about our future.’

  ‘Does the moon worry about waning? Does the sun stop rising each day knowing that it has to set by evening? If nature does not worry, why should we bother?’

  ‘Well, we can be worried about the incoming rain,’ Putla said, as she saw a sheet of rain approaching them.