The Princess of Ayodhya

She sat in her mother's chambers inside the Inner Palaces, looking at the maids busy with their daily cooking and cleaning. Hurrying throughout the palace, they were making preparations to show some hospitality to the king of Anga Desh, who was arriving at the court tomorrow. He had something important to discuss with the king. Something of benefit to Ayodhya.

She was his only heiress. Yet she has lived a neglected life. She pined for his love, and he showed none to her. Her mother and stepmother loved her, brought her up, dressed her, braided her hair and taught her the lessons of life. She was entitled to all the luxuries of a princess, yet her father's unwanted child. Her anger grew by the day as her father became more and more eager for a son. There was a constant line of Rishis and Munis coming to the court to help and advise the king. As was the rumour among the servants, the King of Anga Desh was coming for the same purpose.

The princess sighed. Nobody in the palace understood her pain. All they thought was what more could she want after the luxuries of the palace? Her anger was channelled by her stepmother into learning skills of self-defence and warfare. She was indeed a brave princess.

The palace was abuzz at the Anga king's arrival. The court session began. The queens sat in the Inner Palace with their daughters, discussing how the king would provide them with a son, an heir to the throne. Their attitude brought tears to her eyes. She fought them back bravely. Suddenly, Manthara came into the room.

"Princess Shanta, you have been summoned to the court by your father immediately. "

Everyone looked surprised. She was never even talked to by members of the court, including her father. Why summon her? Has he realised her value?

A happy Shanta rushed into her father's court with a smile. The tiny bells on her Ghagra Choli attracted the attention of the court as everyone stared at her wide-eyed. They had never seen the princess smile. With a hesitant pause, the King looked at his counterpart from Anga, who nodded willfully.

" Princess, this is the King of Anga. She is the Princess I told you about."

"Your Daughter. . ."

" umm... Kaushalya's daughter... "

Her smile vanished.

" Princess, the king has come here with a proposal for you."

Her heart skipped a beat. Was this old king trying to marry her?

" Their land has been cursed with drought for several years.... only Rishyasringa Muni can save them by summoning the gods of the rain. He needs your help."

The princess was puzzled. How could she help? She has never heard of this person before.

The king of Anga spoke now.

" Rishyasringa has been confined to his ashram by his father's chakra line, which he cannot cross. Hence, we cannot bring him to Anga. His father did this to protect his son from lust and pleasure. The only way to break this is if he readily accepts the company of a lady. However, the line cannot be crossed easily; the mantras are powerful. Many who tried have been reduced to ashes."

" So, what makes you feel I am any different?"

" You are brave and strong-minded. If you can lure him to you and bring him to Anga, I promise to pray to the gods to help them give your father and mothers what their hearts desire, a son! I desire a daughter. My wife and I are going to adopt you as our own."

She saw her father's eyes light up with hope. She understood that she meant nothing to him. She was being pushed to the death's face by her father for his wish for a son! Angry yet composed, she replied, " I am ready, Rajan. Please give me a day to get ready for the trip and say goodbye to my mother."

She could see smiles on all the faces of the court, and she was weeping inside.

She quietly made her way into the dark courtyard as her mother rushed out, concerned. She looked distraught.

" What is it, Shanta? Why did your father summon you?"

" He wants me to leave this palace and go with the Rajan of Anga. To attract and lure a sage in exchange for sons for you."

Her words were as cold as stone. Her mother grew numb.

The whole Inner Palace was crying as the mothers helped their daughter pack her things. Every girl needed to go someday or the other, but not like this. Her life ahead was dark, difficult and uncertain. She was still their teenage child, and they wanted to shield her from the world.

Idols of the Sage Sringi and his wife Shanta in their ashram at Sringaverpur

She was taken to a tent near the sage's ashram to carry out her task. She bathed and dressed in a fine sari and her best jewellery. She waited for Rishyasringha's father to leave him alone and go to collect fruits. She came out of hiding and started singing in a beautiful voice.

Rishasringha came out curious about the beautiful voice and asked, " What are you doing with such a wonderful voice?"

" I am a lady ."

" Why are you so different from me? Your body so different from mine?"

" Because I think differently from you."

Enchanted by her voice, he wanted to know her more, but was scared of his father. " Go away before you hurt yourself"

" No, step out of your circle and come to me"

He denied her request. Every day they met, but he did not cross his circle. They became friends through music. Day by day, he saw this brave girl live through the hurdles of jungle life and fall in love. He finally stepped out, much to his father's dismay. She married him and took him to the land of Anga as promised.

With his yogic power, he brought life back to Anga by summoning the Rain Gods. Later, he made his way to Ayodhya to perform the yagna that led to the birth of the four Princes as promised. The Princess, however, came back to the place that rejected her for being a girl for the last time for this yagna. She decided to stay with her newfound family, looking after them and her husband's ashram. Their descendants are the Rishyasringha Rajputs.

Such was the work of Karma that the King got his sons for his daughter's sacrifices and lost his life in the love of his sons as a result of ignoring the Laxmi (lady luck) of the house.

The Warrior and Princess

Dasharatha was very protective of his sons. He had got them after almost a lifetime of waiting and yajnas, so they were his lifeline. Ram, the eldest, won hearts with his humble, generous ways. Bharata, the second, was his favourite queen's brave son, and Laxman and Shatrughan were the twins to the lesser queen, who followed their brothers like shadows. They were a peaceful, happy family. Sage Vasistha was their Kulaguru, teaching them the Vedic hymns and the righteous ways of life. The Princes grew up in the luxurious, protected premises of the palace. The King of Mithila, too, was childless. Mother Earth granted him a daughter. Sita grew up learning and curious, followed by the king's second daughter, Urmila and their cousins Mandavi and Shrutakirti. They grew up knowing the natural ways of life, and their father took them to learn from men to know more about man and his natural instincts. The princesses were curious and always questioning the traditions, and the Princes lear...

Chawand: The Maharana's Capital

The road from Udaipur quickly fades into quiet countryside as you head toward Jaisamand Lake and Chavand, a journey that few package tours offer, but one that is forever imprinted on my memory. Just shy of an hour and 59km from the city bustle, you reach Jaisamand (Dhebar Lake), the “Ocean of Victory,” sprawling as Asia’s once-largest man-made lake . Built in 1685 by Maharana Jai Singh, who followed his father’s legendary tradition of dam-building, this vast sheet of water shimmers in the sunlight. I watched local ferries pass, and marble stairs dip into blue shallows, imagining bygone queens slipping into cooling water beneath the massive embankment. Even today, friendly boatmen linger, eager to usher you onto the lake for a breezy ride. They tell you stories of how once a Maharana roamed these dense forests in search of freedom. Do pause here and soak in the peaceful air before venturing further southwest, toward the forgotten echoes of Mewar’s pride. The drive to Chavand, ...

Rakhi Tales

A Rakhi to the Enemy: The year was 1535 CE. The Rajmata of Mewar, widow of Rana Sanga, was in a dilemma. On one hand was an attack from Bahadur Shah of Gujarat as a threat to her capital, Chittorgarh, and the throne of her beloved teenage son Vikramaditya. On the other hand, there was the son of her husband's archenemy, Humayun, who could be of some help. Rani Karnavati wrote a letter to Humayun, who was in the east at that time. Along with it, she sent a Rakhi, a thread of brotherhood, asking him, as a sister, for protection against the enemy. But the road was too long, and time was of the essence. Humayun arrived at Chittorgarh, in response to her letter, keeping his end of the bargain but a little late. Rani Karnavati had already performed the Jauhar. They never met. Humayun established Rana Vikramaditya on the throne of Mewar, as he had promised as a brother, and returned to his post. Two dynasties, political rivals and sworn enemies, from Sanga-Babur to Pratap-Akbar and even R...

The Annals of Rajputana

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The Prince of Mewar

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Asuras are not Demons

Demons in the Abrahamic religion are not the same as Asuras of Hinduism. Originally deities of Iranian origin, they were seen in the tribal context as no different from Devas but as counterparts to maintain balance. In early epics and Puranas, asura meant a chosen leader of great capacity. Only later, perhaps due to the Iranian link, their image declined. It was with the Brahmanas that the sharp divide appeared: devas as divine, asuras as evil. Puranic myths demonised them mainly to assert the superiority and immortality of devas, while asuras were cast as symbols of the "other." Since Tribes still worshipped them and embraced their power of negativity, being important to balance, they soon became synonymous with tribes, which was not the case mythologically. There are instances of Bali or Ravana being Kshatriya or Brahmin Asuras and competent kings. Indian demonology itself is vast and layered, shaped by surviving tribes, each with unique myths. Celestial, aerial, and terres...

Jahanara Begum Sahib: The Sufi Princess

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Taj Mahal

On the 17th of Jumada I 1041 (11 December 1631), the sacred remains of Her Late Majesty the Queen were sent from Burhanpur to the metropolis of Akbarabad, under the care of Prince Muhammad Shah Shuja, who was ordered to distribute at every stage, great quantities of victuals and money in charity upon the poor. To the south of the metropolis, a luxuriant piece of high ground, which had formerly been the property of Raja Man Singh and now belonged to his grandson Raja Jai Singh, was selected as the burial place of that “Dweller in Paradise”. Although the Raja offered the ground most willingly as a present, nevertheless His Majesty, with the scrupulousness so requisite in worldly transactions, conferred on him in exchange a splendid mansion out of the imperial properties. After its arrival at Akbarabad, the blessed corpse was consigned to the earth on the 15th of Jumada II 1041 (15 January 1632) at the beginning of the fifth Regnal year. At the royal command, the public authorities with i...

History: A Political Storytelling

History, as we know, is the study of the past. The primary sources of such study include coins, scriptures, seals, weaponry, architecture, things of daily use, palaces, forts, etc. However, when we talk of wars, events, and characters of people in the past, it is very difficult to be accurate about what we are reading hundreds of years later. Nowadays, History has become a hot political topic, changing narratives of what we have known for so long as history and challenging the past. In reality, all versions are somehow biased, and all in their entirety untrue. The art of storytelling plays a major part in the narration of history. We grow up hearing moral stories all our lives, right and wrong, heroes and villains. Our belief system starts functioning like that, as we believe that in every story there has to be a good and a bad. However, the reality is far from that. In reality, we don’t really have people who are pure evil or pure good like stories often suggest. Herein, the art ...

The Kaali Effect

The shopping mall echoed with a noise. The buzz grew silent. Fear crept in. Until somebody shouted, " It's just a Balloon!" The buzz grew again, the shopping continued, the romantic couples continued their walks, and the food court filled up with the aroma of the orders... A few decades back, people used to laugh carefree at a balloon bursting or a tyre booming in the streets or in various crowded areas. Now, in the back of everyone's head, a loud noise always brings the same thoughts... Another year, another city, another crowded place, Several innocent lives. They don't spare religious places either. For the sake of mankind? Religion? Politics? Power? They only know. Who are they? Nobody knows. It is said that the demon Kaali, who ushered in KaliYug, decided to reside in a few things. Addiction, Wealth, Desire, and Anger are some such things he resides in. This is KaliYug, where an innocent child's balloon makes adults fear the extremes. What is dharma here?...

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