‘It is not just the matter of financial security. What about your life?’
‘I am fortunate to have your concern and affection. But there must be hundreds and thousands of unfortunate widows like me in the Mughal Empire, who do not have either a decent shelter nor the comforts that I enjoy, yet they continue to live their life.’
‘But they do not have the emperor at their feet. Meherunnisa, my son adores you. He would like to make you the queen of his heart.’
‘Your Majesty, I am flattered to hear that. A poor widow with a child can hardly be worthy of his attention. I still mourn for my slain husband and cannot dream of giving myself to another man.’
Meherunnisa was raising the ante. Succumbing to the emperor without any assurances from his side would put her in the same position as that of an ordinary harem woman. At most, she would be regarded as a concubine. But Meherunnisa dreamed of being the Empress of the Mughal Empire. Nothing less would do. She had waited for many years for her dreams to materialise, and she was in no hurry to ruin them by walking into the emperor’s bedchamber. She would bide her time till his desire for her overcame him enough, to make her his empress. Queen Jagat Gossain was the Shah Begum, and nothing could change that, but Meherunnisa could still become an empress.
In his chambers, Jahangir paced the floor, irritated with Meherunnisa’s obstinacy. I will not be spurned; she has to yield, he decided. He was emperor, and could command any number of women to subjugation; he was not going to beg Meherunnisa. Yet, he faltered. She was special. She held his heart. The emperor sought solace in the arms of other women, but Meherunnisa’s face refused to leave his mind.
‘What can a man do if a woman denies him her heart?’ he asked Mohammad Sharief, his trusted minister and stepbrother.
‘If it is an ordinary man and an ordinary woman, he can force the Qazi to perform a nikah, but the emperor is no ordinary man and she is not an ordinary woman. I have no solution to your dilemma, Your Majesty.’
‘That woman has the nerve to snub me! What a paradox: I am revered by entire Hindustan, hundreds and thousands of beauteous women want to share my bed, but I am obsessed with one woman who won’t respond to my love. If I just wanted to possess her physically, I could have brought her to my bed, but I desire more. I feel tongue-tied in her presence! Isn’t that ridiculous?’
‘You could offer to make her your concubine,’ suggested Sharief, after a short pause.
‘You think I haven’t done that already? I have sent several missives proposing a place for her in the harem, but she has rejected them all. Her spirit amazes me.’ The emperor’s looked balefully at his stepbrother. ‘Sharief, I want that woman at any cost.’
‘At the cost of offering her marriage?’ asked Sharief.
‘Yes, if that is what she wants.’
‘Mughal emperors have always married for political or economic gains. Right from Shahenshah Akbar’s times, the policy has been very clear. In Meherunnisa’s case, it is neither a politically beneficial union, nor is she from a royal family.’
‘She may not be royalty, but she belongs to a reasonably good family. Her father belongs to a noble family from Persia. And he is one of the most intelligent and able ministers of the empire. Her brother, Asaf, is an important emir. Do you know that he has studied Sanskrit and Hindu scriptures in great detail? As for her younger brother, Ibrahim Khan “fatehjung”, he is one of the ablest generals in the empire.’
‘That may be so. But do not forget the fact that Mirza Ghias Baig was under a cloud of suspicion during Shahenshah Akbar’s time when he was caught accepting bribes. Have you forgotten that he had fallen from royal grace? Your Majesty also seems to have forgotten about the unfortunate eldest son of Mirza Ghias Baig. Was Mahmud not executed by your order because he had conspired with Khusrau to have you assassinated?’
‘There could be one black sheep in every family. Just because one of his sons tried to assassinate me, I can’t paint the entire family with a black brush. The Mirza was accused of taking bribes, but he has been warned and he is not likely to jeopardise his position by resorting to such folly in future.’
‘What about Sher Afghan’s unfortunate murder? I am sure that the lady fends you off because of that incident.’
‘That was most unfortunate. I wish the fellow had agreed to divorce Meherunnisa as I had suggested. Let us not discuss what has been. It depresses me to think of all those unpleasant things. Tell me what should I do to make her accept my love?’
‘Speak to her. Tell her how much you love her. How can any woman spurn the genuine feelings of an emperor?’
Jahangir shook his head, ‘I wouldn’t be able to bear her rejection.’
‘There is another solution. Why don’t you speak to her father, Mirza Ghias Baig, or even her brother, Asaf Khan? Put in a word through her family. It could have a better impact.’
‘That is a very good idea. I shall summon Asaf Khan and speak to him.’
Not wanting to lose any time, the emperor immediately summoned Meherunnisa’s brother. Asaf Khan was an important member of his court and an intelligent man.
‘Asaf, I wish to speak about a private matter for which I need your counsel,’ the emperor began hesitantly. Asaf Khan instantly understood that the emperor was referring to Meherunnisa. Every member of Meherunnisa’s family knew about the emperor’s love for her. Both Mirza Ghias Baig and Asaf Khan were aware that the family could benefit greatly if Meherunnisa accepted the emperor’s proposition. They tried to coax her, but she remained adamant. Only her father understood that his clever daughter was angling for the crown.
‘Your Majesty’s desire is my command. I shall do anything in my power to satisfy the desire of my emperor.’
‘This is a delicate matter concerning your sister, Meherunnisa. I wish to marry her but she refuses to agree to my proposal.’
‘My sister still mourns for her husband. A mere widow, she can hardly refuse you, sire. She must be delighted by your proposal; it is just that her grieving heart deters her from accepting it. I can assure you of that, Your Majesty.’
‘How long must she mourn? It is well over three years now! My patience has its limits. You must convey my impatience to your sister.’ The emperor paced the floor agitatedly.
The very next day the emperor presented a Khilat to Mirza Ghias Baig, in the Diwan-é-aam. In the presence of all the nobles he announced, ‘Mirza Ghias Baig, we are very pleased with your selfless services to the empire and now we wish to reward you. From today, you shall be known by the title Itmad-ud-daulah, the pillar of the empire.’
The Mirza bowed low before the emperor and accepted the honour humbly. He had guessed the reason for his promotion. In fact, most of the nobles knew the reason for the emperor’s generosity towards the Mirza.
As the days passed, the emperor continued to pine for his beloved Meherunnisa, but she kept him away with the excuse that she was still mourning for her dead husband.
On the other hand, the affair between Prince Khurram and Arjumand Bano progressed at a fast pace. The young couple met clandestinely and exchanged vows of love.
‘I can no longer live without Arjumand,’ Khurram confided to Laadli. ‘She has become the orbit of my world. Sometimes I wonder if it is possible to love someone as much as I love her.’
His deep sighs and lovelorn looks moved Laadli, but she could do little to help him beyond carry their missives. It was the emperor who held the fate of the young lovers in his hands. Without the imperial permission, Prince Khurram could not marry Arjumand.
‘Why don’t you ask the emperor for his blessings?’
‘He wants me to marry the daughter of the Shah of Persia because he wants our relationship with them consolidated. Has he forgotten his own romantic escapades, I wonder.’
‘Marry the Persian princess and then ask for Arjumand’s hand,’ Laadli suggested pragmatically. ‘You have to please the emperor to obtain his blessings. As long as he does not refuse the match, there is hope for the tw
o of you.’
‘You’re right. I will broach the topic tonight when the emperor retires to his private chamber,’ Khurram said determinedly.
That evening the prince approached his father and begged him to grant permission for his marriage with Arjumand. Jahangir was relaxing in his quarters, a wine glass and hookah by his side, and an open book of verses before him.
‘Princes cannot decide their marriage. It is for the emperor to decide who they should marry.’
‘But I love Arjumand. I cannot live without her.’
‘You must learn to be patient. We have decided that you will marry the daughter of Mirza Muzaffar Husain Safavi of the house of Shah Ismail of Persia so that our relationships with the Shah can improve.’
‘If I agree to marry the Persian princess, will you allow me to take Arjumand as my wife?’
‘Don’t place conditions on us. We will think about the matter after your marriage with the princess.’ And the emperor dismissed his angry son. The fact was that Jahangir was annoyed with the Baig family. Every time Meherunnisa turned him down, he found it difficult to control his rage or the urge to punish her family. Khurram will not marry Arjumand till Meherunnisa agrees to my proposal, decided the emperor.
Four years had now passed since Meherunnisa had come to the imperial palace at Agra. The emperor’s impatience grew, as did his temper tantrums. He was no longer content to pass his time at the court or harem. Neither hunts nor animal fights amused him. He found no solace in alcohol or dancing girls.
His stepbrother Sharief noticed the pinched look on the emperor’s face. He has been drinking too much, he thought, he has to be distracted.
‘I have found some nice hunting spots just a few kilometres away from Amber. The dense forests there are full of rare wild beasts and birds. Would the Shahenshah like to indulge in the sport?’
‘Hunting no longer interests me, Sharief. My soul is shattered with grief. I can neither sleep nor eat. There is so much restlessness in my heart that I can’t find peace. My mind knows no joy. It is all because of that woman who refuses to understand my feelings. Could she really have transformed into such an unfeeling person? Has she forgotten the vows of love we exchanged?’
Jahangir’s face, lined and weary, invoked pity in his companion.
‘Jahanpanah, sometimes it is better to wait than to push a matter. Do not fret over her obstinacy. Leave it to the Almighty to take care of the affair.’
The emperor halted his agitated pacing. His tawny eyes emitted liquid fire. ‘Sharief, if you were suffering the way I do, you wouldn’t be talking in this manner,’ he admonished. ‘I wish to travel to Lahore. Maybe the beauty of that city will awaken romance in the heart of my beloved. Agra is too much of a practical city, it is Lahore where love and romance flourish.’
It was useless to argue with the emperor. Sharief bowed himself out of Jahangir’s presence muttering–‘I shall personally supervise the arrangements for the travel, Your Majesty.’
Outside, away from the emperor’s hearing, he cursed Meherunnisa and the problems she had brought to the court. Why can’t the woman surrender to the inevitable? What a mess! Allah, I pray that the emperor snaps out of his infatuation or the woman realises the futility of her inflexible stance.
The emperor’s decision translated into frantic activity as the court began packing up for the long journey. When the court moved from one city to the other, it meant that almost everyone moved. From nobles and soldiers to petty traders and even beggars, everyone joined the caravan: no one wanted to be left behind. There would be no business when the royal camp moved and the enormous capital city would become like a ghost town. Life existed where the emperor lived. No less than fifteen hundred elephants, ten thousand horses, hundreds of palanquins and thousands of foot soldiers formed the entourage.
Meherunnisa also travelled along with the emperor’s harem. With more than three hundred concubines and eighteen wives, the harem was a magnificent procession. Laadli travelled with her mother in a palanquin that tailed the procession. The important queens and concubines travelled at the head, and women lower down in the hierarchy, at the rear of the convoy.
It was the first time Laadli was travelling with the royal retinue and she was delighted with everything. On her insistence, her friend, Benazir, was sharing their palanquin. In the past year, ever since Khurram was lost to her, Laadli had made two friends–Ratnavali, the niece of a concubine, and Benazir, the daughter of a concubine. The three girls were of the same age and shared the same interests. They also shared a common hatred for the emperor.
Benazir had grown up with the image of her frail mother endlessly waiting for a visit from the emperor. Benazir’s mother was the daughter of a Hindu noble, low down in the hierarchy. She had caught Jahangir’s eye when she attended a royal function and was brought to the harem by force and converted to Islam. For six months Jahangir had been enchanted with his new paramour, then he tired of her and discarded her forever. Benazir’s mother had been in love with a young Hindu soldier when the emperor had her brought to the harem. Jahangir had ordered his execution when he learned of their romance. Benazir had often heard the story from her mother.
Ratnavali was the daughter of a proud Rajput chieftain. She had been left orphaned after the emperor’s army attacked her town and killed her family members. The imperial soldiers had gone on a rampage, plundering and raping the women, killing children and causing mayhem. Roop Kunwar, a childless concubine and a distant aunt of hers, took care of her now.
The girls giggled as they noted the strapping Uzbek women guards who galloped alongside their palanquin. The one on the right of their palanquin had a discernible moustache and her demeanour added to her masculine appearance.
About two kilometres ahead of the main column, a few soldiers rode with several yards of white linen. This was used to hide from view any animal carcasses or corpses that might lie on the way, so that the sight of a dead body did not offend the royal sensibilities.
Right in front of the procession walked the elephants, with bearers carrying the Mughal standards. The Timurid standard of a crouching lion set against the rising sun was followed by white Arab stallions adorned with gold saddles, reins and stirrups carrying the personal banner of the emperor Jahangir, calligraphed in Persian. A dozen men sprinkled rose water and fanned the air free of flies so that dust or pests did not bother the emperor.
The emperor travelled on a golden howdah under a gem-encrusted umbrella. He was flanked by four artists and calligraphers who noted events and the emperor’s thoughts, to be recorded later for his memoirs. Jahangir never travelled anywhere without his memoirs. Alongside the emperor’s elephant rode a vizier with many documents about the places the procession was passing through. His vast store of documents contained each and every detail about the area. Next to the vizier rode the imperial treasurer with bags full of gold and silver coins to be distributed by the emperor to the people on the wayside, who gathered to pay their respects to him. A posse of elite guards, who were the emperor’s privileged soldiers, followed these riders, decked in crimson uniform, their faces solemn and determined.
A regal palanquin crafted out of silver and decorated with pearls and rubies, and covered with brocade curtains, carried the empress. A thoroughbred stallion walked alongside in case the empress wished to ride when she got bored of sitting in the palanquin. A number of imperial palanquins carrying other queens, according to their ranks, followed the empress’s palanquin. Ferocious looking Uzbek women guards with drawn scimitars surrounded the palanquins, ready to attack any man who dared cross the path.
Behind them rode another troop of riders with naked swords. After them came the palanquins carrying noblewomen and emirs followed by the procession of lesser courtiers, musicians, servants, slaves and traders. Hundreds of horses, camels and elephants carrying provisions, water, and tents followed in the rear. There were makeshift baths, the emperor’s menagerie and other stores loaded on the animals. A ragged group of beg
gars and mendicants formed the tail end of the procession.
Finally, the entourage reached Lahore Fort. Covering a vast area, the fort had been constructed with red sandstone by Shehanshah +Akbar, but Jahangir insisted that marble pavilions be added to the palaces. The emperor was partial to glazed Kashi tile work and frescoes, and his architect Mamoor Khan was instructed to use these elements extensively in his’ renovation efforts.
‘Mamoor, we wish you to make generous use of glass mosaic for the embellishment of the Sheesh Mahal so that it will reflect the grandeur and beauty of a Mughal emperor’s court. The Sheesh Mahal would require extra thick walls and ceilings to provide adequate depth for different layers of the plaster background, and the openings will have to be minimised to necessitate the use of artificial light. This will bring out the effect of the glass mosaic work. And, of course, it will also ensure coolness.’
The emperor’s understanding of architectural details impressed Mamoor Khan.
Pointing to the fort, the emperor continued. ‘I want this to look more like a palace than a fort. I want you to design the Khwabgah with paintings on the ceilings and the walls. You can also use stuccowork on the walls, like we did in my mother, Queen Jodha Bai’s palace at Fatehpur Sikri. I want similar work in the Diwan-é-khas. And the gardens–they should be as beautiful and ornate as the ones in Kashmir.’
While reconstruction work was going on at the fort, the emperor camped in the Dilkhusha gardens, on the banks of the river Ravi. Double-storied royal tents in bright crimson were pitched in the lawns of the garden amidst the fruit trees. The emperor’s tent, containing several rooms, was covered with exotic paintings and its floors were furnished with bright carpets. Carved screens of Kashmiri walnut wood provided privacy from prying eyes. Ivory caskets and jade wine cups with couplets inscribed on them, gold spittoons, enamelled flower vases filled with perfect blooms, porcelain plates with fruits, carved sandalwood side tables, almost everything that brought comfort and luxury to the emperor in his palace, was replicated within the tent.
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