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Showing posts with the label Historical Fiction

Chandra's Choice: The Story of Dhruvasvamini

More often than not, the private lives of kings and the existence of their queens remain in the words of bards rather than those of chroniclers. Dhruvasvamini is no different, even after being the queen of the golden age of the Indian Subcontinent. She appears in the Basarh Clay Seal as the mother of Govinda Gupta (attributed as a sibling of Kumara Gupta I) and the queen wife of Chandra Gupta II or Vikramaditya. Except for one mention of Dhruva Devi, as she is popularly known, she remains a mysterious character in the Gupta lineage, with a side mention in the dynasty’s history. Visakhadatta, a famous poet and playwright, who later wrote DeviChandraGuptam as the play capturing the life of Chandra Gupta II, captured Dhruva Devi as one of the protagonists of his story. Although some scholars attribute Visakhadatta to be under the patronage of Chandra Gupta II himself when he wrote this story, many historians debate the literary work as a historical fiction written much after his time. Tru...

Etched In Stone

This historical short story is a fictitious account of Ashoka, the Mauryan Emperor and his first wife Devi, who finds no place in Magadhan History. There is another fiction about her in the blog as well. This story stemmed from a merge of two ideas, one was to mention the cave inscription found in Saru Maru that mentions Asoka spending some days there with his lover (presumed to be Devi), the other idea of how if words did not immortalise a lot of battles and achievements, the names of many great men would be lost in time. The prince stood on the edge of the cliff, looking at the horizon. Dawn arrived as the birds started leaving their nests, wings fluttering, eager to discover the world. He looked up at them, the thought of once again going back to exploring the length and breadth of his state making him feel a little restless as he eyed his healing wounds. He was left to die; his enemies wished so. Yet by some miracle of fate, as if his purposes were yet to be fulfilled, here he was ...

Baz Bahadur's Decision

  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 witnesses 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 stay low...

Roopmati's Renewal

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...