Through this award-winning novel, the author has attempted to illuminate a lesser-known chapter of Meerabai’s life

Meera

By Debasree Chakraborti

Standing silently near the doorway, Ramabai wept softly. But her sobs were drowned out by the music of the ongoing celebration.

That night, a vigil festival (Ratri Jaga Utsav) was held. Swastika symbols were drawn on the palace floors and walls. A clay pot — a mangal ghat — was marked with a swastika, and Pandit Gadadhar began the ceremonial worship. The puja continued throughout the night. At dawn, water from the mangal ghat was sprinkled across every corner of the fort to bless it with peace and prosperity.

The next morning marked the beginning of Meera’s wedding ceremonies. The day started with the Nandi-Ganesh Puja, an essential ritual in every Marwari wedding. Meera was brought to the rooftop of the fort to perform the rites. After the puja, turmeric was applied to her hands, and its imprint was taken on a white cloth.

Clad in a yellow lehenga and matching dupatta, Meera looked like a goddess of spring. Her beauty was elevated by a delicate gold maang tikka and light jewelry made of gold and pearls — she looked ethereal.

Later in the morning, Meera went to Giridharji’s temple and performed the worship herself. Then the Haldi (turmeric) ceremony began. The wedding procession from Mewar had already arrived and was staying in the northern wing of the fort, where music, dance, feasting, and fountains of drinks flowed freely.

Once Kunwar Bhojraj’s Haldi ceremony concluded in the northern palace, the turmeric paste used for him was ceremoniously brought to Meera’s chambers. Dancers, dressed in colorful attire, brought the bowl of turmeric with rhythm and celebration.

Meera was seated on a silver stool (pidi), and turmeric, applied to betel leaves, was gently touched to her cheeks. Royal women from various corners of Rajputana took turns applying turmeric to Meera.

Ramabai was the first to touch the turmeric to Meera’s skin. Meera’s aunt turned to Ramabai and said,

“You have the right to go first, Rama. You’ve raised her like your own.”

Ramabai did not object — for it was true. Meera was her life’s sole purpose. Of course, she would be the first to bless her during this sacred rite.

After the turmeric ceremony, pitchers of water were poured over Meera for her ceremonial bath. Then, from noon onward, the grand bridal adornment began. Jasmine and beli flower garlands were placed on her head…

Women were adorned in colorful, expensive lehengas, embellished with kundan and diamond jewelry. The fragrance of mehendi and flowers clung to their bodies. The men, too, were dressing in vibrant garments, tying turbans on their heads.

From sunset onwards, the soft sound of shehnai (traditional wedding flute) floated in from one corner of the palace. Dressed in a royal saffron-colored outfit and a pink turban, Jaimal went to the northern wing of the fort to bring the groom, Kunwar Bhojraj. A few young relatives accompanied him. The crown prince of Mewar, Kunwar Bhojraj, was brought on horseback to the gate of the southern wing.

Meera’s aunt personally welcomed the groom with traditional rituals. Then, family members from both sides greeted each other by exchanging garlands.

Wearing a saffron-colored outfit embroidered with diamonds and a red turban, Kunwar Bhoj entered the wedding pavilion. The moment he arrived, every eye was fixed on him — it felt as if Lord Ram himself had arrived in Merta to marry Sita.

Then came the garland-exchange ceremony (varmala). Meera, dressed in a red lehenga and adorned with diamond jewelry, appeared beneath the wedding canopy with her companions. Her face was veiled, so Ramabai held her hand and gently led her forward.

Just like the mythical kunjban (flower grove) prepared during Ram and Sita’s wedding, the artisans of Merta had recreated a beautiful and magical garden-like pavilion.

In that sacred space, Meera and Bhojraj exchanged garlands. Then came the saat phere — the seven sacred vows — and the sindoor daan (application of vermillion). Since Rajput brides must keep their faces veiled before the wedding is completed, the sindoor was applied over the veil.

Afterward, they were escorted inside the palace. There, traditional post-wedding games like the ring-finding ceremony were played. Meera’s aunt then lovingly fed the groom mangoti, a special sweet dish she had prepared herself.

According to Rajput customs, the bride and groom must not see each other’s faces on the wedding night. Though they stayed in separate parts of the fort, Bhojraj and Meera were lost in thoughts of one another — deeply connected in spirit.

That night, arrangements for their conjugal stay were made in the western wing of the fort. The chamber was decorated with yellow and red flowers, and oil lamps glowed in every corner.

Meera entered the chamber, bringing with her her beloved Giridharji (Lord Krishna). That night, an extraordinary full moon illuminated the sky…

The moon had risen high, and in its silver glow, the entire landscape shimmered as if bathed in gold. Late into the night, the men and women of the fort began to hear music drifting from the western wing. What a divine melody it was — soul-stirring and enchanting.

In that moonlit palace chamber, with Giridharji placed beside the bed, Meera was singing to Bhojraj. Bhojraj lay with his head in Meera’s lap, gazing deeply into her eyes. Between dream and reality, the moment felt timeless.

Around midnight, Meera’s pet peacock, which had been wandering the fort looking for her, finally arrived at the window, exhausted. Hearing Meera’s singing, it seemed to realize that she was here. As soon as it saw her, it became overjoyed, squawking emotionally and hopped onto the bed.

Meera gently pulled it close and affectionately whispered,

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll be leaving all of you and going far, far away. Perhaps we will never meet again. Will you remember me?”

The helpless creature seemed to understand the sorrow in Meera’s voice. It nuzzled its head into her palm, as if trying to comfort her.

No one knew how the night slipped away. (Continues)

Click here for Part-1, Part-2, Part-3, Part-4, Part-5, Part-6, Part-7, Part-8, Part-9, Part-10, 

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Debasree Chakraborti is a renowned novel writer of Bengali language. Based in Kolkata, West Bengal, India, she has done Master’s in Modern History from the Kolkata University, and authored some thirty books, mostly the novels, with historical perspective and themes. Her novel is ‘Maharaja Dahir’ that covers the history of Sindh from 662, the year of first attack on Sindh by the Arab armies till date, was published last year and translated by Nasir Aijaz into Sindhi language.