Jazeera- Legend of the Fort Island

by Yash Pawaskar

  As always, Iravati quickly grasped what Avni was saying to her. She was a bright student. Iravati got up and channelized her energy into concentrating on the minutest detail coming from Brinda’s side. She stood in her battle stance, knees slightly bent, back arched, and a firm grip on her weapon.

  Brinda went again for Iravati’s left leg, but this time, Iravati sensed her opponent’s movement. She moved slightly to her right evading the incoming blow and ferociously attacked Brinda’s back causing her to fall onto the ground.

  A hint of a smile emerged on Iravati’s face, but it didn’t last long as Avni went to her swiftly, locked her in a submissive position, and said, ‘You should never let your guard down. In a battlefield, often there is more than one enemy, and they will pounce on you unannounced.’

  ‘Yes, Avni,’ said Iravati struggling to break free.

  Avni released Iravati and patted her back. She looked at Brinda and said, ‘Continue with the others,’ and proceeded towards the hut near the fence.

  Savitri was waiting for her inside the hut. She had been Kashvi’s associate for years and helped the camp by managing accounts and stock. ‘The camp is running out of food. The children need to eat. These young girls are sweating it out all day in the sun and need adequate nutrition to stay healthy.’

  Avni smiled.

  ‘Say it. I know you want to say it,’ said Savitri looking at her.

  Avni’s smile widened, and she said, ‘You sound just like my mother.’

  ‘Done. Now please ask your dear curly-haired friend from the village to send one box extra this time.’ There was a mischievous tone in Savitri’s voice as she stressed on dear.

  ‘Not a dear friend. Friend. And yes, we will get the extra box,’ assured Avni.

  ‘Oh ho! Does the poor friend know that he is not a dear friend and just a friend?’ asked Savitri.

  ‘Yes. He knows. And that’s because the curly-haired village boy likes other boys. So, you need to do a different kind of matchmaking, Savitri.’

  ‘Ah, I see!’ she said surprised. Then added, ‘I have heard that these people lead better lives than us. You know why?’

  ‘Why?’ asked Avni on cue.

  ‘Because unlike us, they don’t marry and don’t have to stay with their mothers-in-law,’ she said, and they doubled up laughing.

  13 – The Mahavan

  It was early morning, and Guru Ashwath was seated peacefully beside a tranquil lake in the Mahavan.

  He had been meditating under the banyan tree for over an hour. The chirping birds and the ambience of the forest complemented the Guru’s calm posture.

  Bagha and his men came galloping on their horses from the opposite end of the lake. The Junglees’ leader noticed Guru Ashwath and ordered his men to wait. He tapped his stallion, and it slowly walked in the Guru’s direction towards their pre-decided meeting spot. The footsteps alerted the meditating Guru, and he opened his eyes.

  Bagha, still seated on his horse, came near Guru Ashwath and said, ‘Why waste time sitting under a tree, doing nothing?’ The Guru smiled and said, ‘Meditation is a technique that connects your body with your mind. It is about looking inwards to have a better outward view.’

  ‘Words, words, words. Since you like conjuring quotes like a wizard, here’s one for you. Actions speak louder than words. So, you can continue with your mumbo jumbo and meet me when you want to discuss actions,’ said Bagha turning his horse around.

  He was about to gallop away, but Guru Ashwath stopped him by saying, ‘The time has come.’

  Bagha turned, unmounted from his horse, and walked towards the aged man. Guru Ashwath stood up and stroked his beard. He had a letter in his hand. Guru gestured Bagha to walk with him towards the lake and continued, ‘The prophecy is going to be fulfilled soon.’

  ‘You still believe in it? Wasn’t that just some horseshit conjured up by an old dying Kaal Acharya? Said Bagha.

  ‘People believe in what they want to believe. The question is, what do you want to believe in? Do you want to believe that you have an opportunity to avenge your brother’s death? Or do you want to keep poking and jabbing at your enemy while your own wounds grow and get infected?’

  ‘Are you serious about the battle?’ asked Bagha.

  ‘The ship has sailed, Bagha. And you are an important part of the journey. Your role is of great importance.’

  ‘I am not a small part of any ship. I am the captain of the ship,’ said Bagha with a grimace on his face.

  ‘The only way to defeat Zorawar is to unite in our endeavour and attack as one,’ said Guru Ashwath.

  ‘And how do you propose we do that? Everyone knows Jazeera is impregnable. And more than anyone, Zorawar knows it because he built the fort that way. Do not give false hope to your people, Guru Ashwath. A handful of men and women with swords and spears cannot take down Jazeera.’

  While Bagha was getting agitated, Guru Ashwath was calm as a river. He placed his hand on Bagha’s shoulder and said, ‘Why don’t you trust us?’

  ‘Trust,’ Bagha scoffed and pushed the Guru’s hand away. ‘Do your people trust me? They don’t. Why? Because I am not from here. I hail from the mountains in the east. I look different, so I cannot be trusted. That’s what your people think, right?’

  ‘You are mistaken, Bagha. I also hail from the same land as you do. But I do not think like you.’

  ‘Why would you? You sprinkle wisdom, and everyone kneels in front of you. When I asked them to accept me as a leader, they chose a woman. Kashvi. How can I trust such people?’

  ‘People choose who they want to follow. A leader cannot be forced on the people. You do your bit for the people. Who knows what destiny has in store for you?’ said Guru Ashwath.

  ‘I create my own destiny. And I don’t take orders.’

  ‘I am not in a position to order anyone, let alone you. All I can do is request. I request on Kashvi’s behalf and on behalf of all the innocent people in Jazeera and the Mahavan,’ said Guru Ashwath bringing his palms together as a gesture of request.

  ‘Look, look. The great Guru Ashwath is requesting me. Bagha. A Junglee,’ laughed Bagha. ‘Have you found any enchanted potion?’ He continued, ‘Is it true? What the Mongols and Chinese are talking about? Big balls of fire. The magic of gunpowder? Have you stumbled upon the secrets to such marvels, Guru Ashwath?

  ‘No, Bagha. I also have heard of such stories of weapons of mass destruction. Fortunately, Bharatvarsh is still immune to such large-scale disastrous use of knowledge. Such innovations will change warfare forever. However, time is yet to come for that. It will not happen in our lifetime. And may God save the people when such power is wielded by mankind,’ said Guru Ashwath.

  ‘You still haven’t answered my question? How do you think we will defeat Zorawar?’

  ‘Trust.’

  ‘What?’ Bagha exclaimed.

  ‘Trust in oneself. Trust in one’s people. Trust in God,’ said Guru Ashwath and continued, ‘I trust you, Bagha. Do you trust me?’

  ‘I only trust my instincts. And my instincts are telling me that since our ultimate goal is the same, and since you are requesting me, I shall listen to your appeal. Tell me. What is it that you want my assistance in?’

  ‘Since you have the horses, men, and weapons, and can move quickly through the Mahavan to Kashvi’s brother, Keshav in Pune, I request you to forge an alliance with him so that—’

  ‘So that we can defend the Sultanate’s army from Daulatabad while you lay siege on Jazeera,’ Bagha completed Guru Ashwath’s sentence to perfection. He continued, ‘And I assume you must have already spoken with the Southerners. From what I have heard, they have successfully forced the Sultanate to retreat and are holding fort. They will not attack for they want peace.’

  Guru Ashwath nodded.

  ‘So, what I have heard is indeed true. You really have something cooking in your brain, don’t you, Guru Ashwath? You are really going to attack Jazeera. And you are smart enough to hold your aces close to your
self by not telling me the plan. And you talk of trust, haha…’ said Bagha, mocking Guru Ashwath.

  ‘All I can say is if you do your part to perfection, victory shall be ours,’ said Guru Ashwath, hoping Bagha would agree to head to Pune and help Keshav.

  Bagha thought for a few seconds and said, ‘Done. I have nothing to lose in this. My men and I will align with Keshav, but we will not form the first line of defence. Our strength is not in the open battlefield. We are strong in the Mahavan. We will station ourselves on the western side of the Mahavan near Daulatabad and defend. Not attack. And if things go wrong in Jazeera, then do not expect me to come running to the fort island to save you and your merry little army.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Guru Ashwath and handed him a sealed, hand-written letter by Kashvi to Keshav, detailing the plan.

  Bagha took the letter and rode back on his horse towards his men while Guru Ashwath sat beneath the tree again continuing his meditation.

  14 – Palace

  Zorawar had just concluded the monthly meeting with the Wazir and the Council of Ministers where he took stock of Jazeera’s trade, taxation, and accounts. He didn’t like calculations and numbers, so as usual, he had left the meeting in a hurry after dictating the next steps.

  The task of number crunching and executing the Sultan’s orders fell on the Wazir and the ministers, who were all afraid of their hot-tempered Sultan.

  Zorawar took the stairs, two at a time, from the court hall on the first floor to his chamber on the third floor. A fleet of Island Guards was stationed in the corridor on account of increased security.

  He saw the Queen waiting near the balcony on the third floor staring at the orangish evening sky. Zorawar was about to pass her when she asked in her melodious voice, ‘Don’t you find something strange about the fort walls? I feel they are growing higher every day.’

  Zorawar stopped. He turned and stood beside her on her right. The Queen was dressed in an elaborate dark red gown laced with golden embroidery. Her earrings jingled pleasantly as she looked at the Sultan.

  ‘Jahanara, why do you let everything trouble you? Earlier, it was the increased security and now the walls!’

  ‘The walls of Jazeera resemble a prison and make me feel like a prisoner, Sultan.’ Her eyes turned moist.

  ‘A prison!’ guffawed Sultan. ‘A lot of women will trade anything for such a lavish prison, Jahanara.’

  ‘It will still be a prison, won’t it?’ She turned. She looked over her left shoulder into the Sultan’s eyes. She asked, ‘Do you care about anyone else apart from you, Zorawar?’

  ‘No,’ he responded quickly. ‘And you know that. You have always known that. If I want to rule the world, I can’t be held back by emotional constraints.’

  ‘I’ve known it for a long time that you do not love me. But what about Aadil? Your precious little Prince. Don’t you care for him? Don’t you love him?’

  ‘Ah, Aadil. Aadil is one of my greatest creations. Probably, greater than Jazeera for that matter. I cannot see him as a separate entity. As you rightly said, I don’t care about anyone else apart from me. Aadil is a part of me,’ explained the Sultan.

  ‘He is also my child, Zorawar. I feel you tend to forget that sometimes.’

  ‘No, Jahanara. He has your eyes, and they don’t let me forget that,’ he replied.

  ‘Well, just as Aadil is a part of you and me. The missing children of Jazeera are a part of their parents. Don’t you feel you need to find out what is happening out there?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t let such petty issues spoil my day. Trouble your brother, the Wazir, if these things bother you. I have grown out of this place and have set my eyes northwards. The Northern Sultanate is now like a ship lost in a typhoon. It needs a skilled sailor like me to take charge.’

  ‘Oh! The mighty Zorawar is now going to betray Taufiq Mohammad, the mad king?! Jazeera pays the gold to Delhi and not the other way around, Zorawar,’ she said with a lot of vigour.

  Zorawar hurled himself at her and held her neck with his strong right hand saying, ‘Mind your language, Jahanara. Your every breath is owned by me. If I want, I can stop your heart from beating in under a minute.’

  The Queen was choking. Her eyes were turning red, and she was struggling to breathe. Her nails dug into the Sultan’s wrist, but he did not release her.

  Even in that terrible state, she croaked, ‘End my suffering. Kill me just as you killed my three daughters. Our daughters. What sort of a monster kills three new-born babies just because he doesn’t want his firstborn to be a girl!’ Her jibe angered the Sultan even more.

  He pushed the Queen away, and she landed at the feet of one of the Island Guards stationed on the corridor. They all stood there like statues watching the drama unfold.

  Jahanara took a deep breath and pleaded in a hoarse voice, ‘Why don’t you just finish me? Why have you kept me as a prisoner when you are clearly not interested in caring for me, talking to me, or even bedding me?’

  Zorawar replied, ‘I certainly do not need a wife or a Queen for that matter. But my child needs his mother. So, go. Do your duty and don’t ever dare to talk to me like that. Just because I give you space to flutter your wings; it doesn’t mean you can shit on me. Your wings are clipped, pretty bird. You are never going to fly out of your cage.’

  A river of tears emerged from Jahanara’s eyes. She wept on the floor, helplessly watching Zorawar walk away from her to his chamber.

  15 – Market

  The sun had risen in Jazeera. Its subjects had yawned their way through the morning and were getting ready to go about their business. The market was gearing up for its daily hustle and bustle. Shravan was wide awake in one of the modest visitors’ quarters in the market. The luxurious ones close to the market were all booked, so he had to settle for a dingy one at the end of the street.

  Shravan twirled his moustache and continued to dip his darts into a bottle and then place them in a wooden box, which was specially crafted for housing them. A scream distracted him as he was placing the last dart in his pack of ten.

  Shravan ran to his window, which overlooked the busy street. He looked down at the startled citizens. Some were pointing to a roof while others sprinted for cover. He couldn’t see the source of the chaos, so he sprinted down from the first-floor quarters.

  Shravan could hear the screams more clearly as he moved towards the crowd. He was blocked by a wall of concerned onlookers. People were pointing at the top of the two-storied brothel in front of them and losing their bearings.

  Even the on-duty Island Guards in the market seemed perplexed by what they saw. As Shravan looked closely, he realised that the people were pointing to a black figure that stood tall on the roof of the brothel against the sun. The dark silhouette wore a hooded, free-flowing black cape and had wings tucked under the cape.

  It had just been a minute since the Shadow had emerged. The crowd of traders, merchants, artisans, women, and children was either too shocked to move or to try and flee the scene. A fisherwoman was taking her five-year-old kid to safety but a push from the panicking citizens caused her to fall. Her kid ballooned out of her caring embrace and fell a few feet away.

  The Shadow, sensing an opportunity, swung itself at an angle towards the crying kid creating an arc. The kid was stunned, as he became enveloped in darkness under the protruding wings.

  The Shadow picked up the boy without landing on the ground and flung him across to another Shadow that had emerged on cue on the roof of the adjoining one-storied structure waiting to catch the young chap. The first Shadow completed its swing, landed on a rooftop, and disappeared behind the row of houses. So did the other Shadow along with the kid.

  Minutes ago, the fisherwoman was feeding her kid, and now, she was weeping for him. She, along with everyone in the crowd, was left astonished. Shravan couldn’t believe he had witnessed a five-year-old being kidnapped in front of his and a hundred other eyes, in just a matter of seconds.

  To Shravan’s inqu
isitive mind, the entire act seemed practiced and perfected. As he walked towards the brothel trying to recreate the act in his head, he noticed a black, thin but sturdy rope tied to a pole on the rooftop. He went closer to the rope and found that its lower end was cut sharply, possibly with a knife.

  He played the scene in his mind based on the newly acquired knowledge and deduced that the caped figure might have used the rope to swing down forming a semi-circle and in the process, picked up the kid and threw him to its partner. The wings could be simply for balance. On landing, the rope was cut, and the act was completed. Shravan wondered, Could it be possible?

  He twirled his moustached and looked down, still wondering if his theory was right When a shiny object caught his attention. Shravan bent forward and picked it up. It was a black pendant with a white inscription of a whale on it. He heard Urmila’s voice echo in his mind, Timingila!

  16 – Green Hill

  Kashvi’s brother, Keshav had a makeshift camp put up on the Green Hill near Pune to meet Bagha. Keshav was the ruler of a modest kingdom beyond the southern end of the Mahavan. He was more of a tribal leader than a king. Like Jazeera, his kingdom near Pune was also a vassal state and contributed to the Sultanate’s treasury. However, under the prevalent political scenario, Keshav and his people were planning to fight for their freedom.

  Bagha and his men had travelled through the Mahavan and reached the Green Hill post-sunset. They were visited by Keshav when they were relaxing in a tent.