A Journey To Discover Life

  Upon the scenes of Malwa’s plains Reva meanders in ripples and waves. She witnesses stories only she could tell Of Love, revenge, lust and pain. The Reva blesses the land with her fertility and nurturing. She also stands witness to the thousands of stories, known and unknown, told and untold on its banks. Here is a tale that Reva tells hundreds of years later as she meanders still through the land that was once called Malwa.  Hunting had, from time immemorial, been the pursuit of entertainment for many royals. The luxury of hunting for pleasure was only reserved for the rich and powerful, and the king, often accompanied by his friends, would visit the forestlands on the bank of the Reva for the sighting of deer, boars and if they were lucky enough, then even tigers. His ears were alert enough to observe the rustling of leaves in the winter afternoon or the call of a barking deer nearby. The chirping birds witnessed the hunting party galloping through the forest, trying to st...

The entourage was too large and extravagant for a musician. Roopmati remembered that as a child, during festivities, she would ride on her father’s shoulder to see the entourages pass by the main streets of the town nearby. She had seen many a musician. None had such a huge entourage. Roopmati frowned a little, unsurely as she took her father’s leave. His warning rang in her ears. “Remember what you do, how you behave will all come back to me.” She nodded.  The chief queen was at a loss for words. She had never seen the Sultan himself step into the Mahal to check the chambers to be allotted to one of the girls who were coming in. She was not one of the girls. She was a musician. The queens were curious. What would her position be then? She could not be a concubine, and she was not a queen. A musician in the royal palace of the ladies? Had the Sultan lost his senses? Or did he have some other agenda? If he wanted someone, he had them. He was the Sultan. There was no way he was tryin...

A week was enough for the master to be pleased enough with the new student to tell the Sultan that she was ready for her first performance. The Sultan was extremely pleased and rewarded him with a gold chain. As the master bowed to leave, the guards announced the arrival of the chief queen. Sultan Baz Bahadur sat upright. She was his first bride, a childhood alliance his father had forced upon him when he did not even know what marriage implied. Now he only saw her face when she had complaints about the inner palace and its inhabitants. Honestly, he expected her to be there since Roopmati arrived. His queen did not like changes, especially if those changes were threatening to her position. The Chief Queen arrived with her maids, dismissed them at the threshold and came up to her husband to bow and greet him. “What brings you here?” Baz Bahadur asked, with a lingering smile on his lips. The queen could hear the hint of taunt in his voice. She forced a smile. Her marriage to this reckles...

Roopmati was dressed in her best clothes for the evening in honour of the Prince of Khandesh, as she approached the Mehfil. Wine poured with music as Baz Bahadur found himself humming the songs she presented with a smile on his face. Roopmati looked up at him through her veil, and she wore a smile as she sang. Although her face was not visible, Baz Bahadur knew it was on him. A sudden warmth gushed through his veins to his ears. It was then that Mubarak started praising Roopmati as she bowed. He was highly intoxicated, and his praises swept from her voice and singing to her beauty, the poetry that talked of her and finally a proposal to take her along and give her more luxuries than Malwa promised. Roopmati stepped back, a little shocked at his proposition, as Baz Bahadur stood up to make him stop. The Mehfil broke as Baz Bahadur ordered Mubarak’s men to let him sleep off in the guest wing, and he turned to see that Roopmati had already left. Roopmati felt insulted at the praises of Mu...