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

Meera

By Debasree Chakraborti

Meera had not brought any maidservants or companions with her from Merta. However, the warmth and kindness of the maidservants in Mewar made her feel at home from the very first day. Not long after Meera was brought to her chambers, Prince Bhoj was brought in as well, accompanied by Queen Mother Ratan Kunwar Jhali, the senior queen Kunwarbai, and other women of the royal household.

Blessings were then showered upon the newlyweds. Seeing Meera’s radiant face, each of them blessed her with precious jewelry and gold garments. Afterward, the traditional “ring game” was played — a ring was hidden in a bowl of rice. Meera effortlessly found the ring, prompting the queen mother to exclaim with delight, “I knew my granddaughter-in-law would succeed!”

But this immediate affection and warmth shown by the queen mother toward Meera was not well received by all the women of the fort — especially by Kunwarbai, the senior queen. Each of them had fought subtle political battles to survive in this royal household. Even toward the end of their lives, they were still struggling to claim their place. So why was Meera being given so much attention from the very first day? Whispers and murmurs began to spread through the inner quarters of Mewar’s fort.

Once the blessing ceremony was over, the queen mother looked at the other women and said, “Let the granddaughter-in-law rest now. She’s traveled a long way — her face looks tired. And besides, she’ll have to stay up tonight as well.”

With a teasing smile, the queen mother dismissed all the women from Meera’s chambers. Prince Bhoj also went to rest in his previous chambers, as he too was exhausted from the long journey.

Now, only a few maidservants, Queen Mother Ratan Kunwar Jhali, and Meera remained in her quarters. The maidservants began preparing for Meera’s bath and adornment. A few others went to the royal kitchen to prepare her meal.

The maids were busy with preparations, while others were occupied arranging the bride’s belongings. At that moment, the Queen Mother came and sat down beside Meera.

From their very first meeting, Meera had felt that such a kind-hearted and sincere soul like her would be rare even if one searched all across Rajputana. There was something about her — it felt as if they shared a bond from a previous life. Since her mother’s death, no one other than Ramabai had felt so close to her heart.

Ratan Kunwar Jhali said, “I’ve been meaning to speak to you privately — I’m sure you’ve already sensed that. I was taken aback when I saw that Krishna idol in your hands. That idol belongs to Guru Raidas — my gurudev. Years ago, when I was deeply wounded by the politics of royal life, I fled to Kashi. I spent several days there alone. My residence was by the Ganga River. I would spend my days in prayer and worship, and in the evenings, I’d sit by the palace window gazing at the Ganga.

At night, the Ganga came alive — the floating lamps, the music from passing boats, the breeze from the river, and the sound of the flowing water — all of it gave me a feeling of liberation. The ghat beside my palace was very quiet. No one came there after dusk. But one evening, a wandering monk began to appear at that ghat regularly. He would lean against the trunk of a banyan tree nearby and sing. That song still echoes in my heart:

‘Dhan dhan Guru Ravidas ji, sun lo gareeban di pukar eh…’

(“Blessed is Guru Ravidas ji, listen to the cries of the humble…”)

Hearing his songs, I began to feel — he alone could free me from the sorrows of worldly life. Every evening, I watched him come and sit silently, singing as he gazed at the ripples of the river. One day, I ran to him. In the darkness of night, seeing a royal queen approach him did not startle him at all. Nor did he ask me who I was.

I knelt at his feet, hands folded, and said, ‘Please free me — I can no longer bear the burden of this life.’

In response, he pointed toward the Ganga and said, ‘Look at this river — it is a symbol of the ever-flowing stream of life. The current of this river…’”

So many things flow by in between. Sometimes even dead bodies and various kinds of waste pile up there. We think that perhaps now the river will lose its strength to move forward, and slowly dry up. But does that really happen? With the pull of the tide, the river frees itself from all that waste and flows again as before.

If you treat the various problems of household life as burdens, they will indeed become burdens. Be like the river—leave everything to the pull of the tide. He will set you free. Trust in God—He who brought you here will also show you the way.

After speaking with Guruji for a few days, my mind began to feel much calmer. One day, he told me that it was time for him to leave Kashi. That day, I gave him a statue of Krishna and said, “If you ever remember me, please do visit Chittor Fort at least once.” Though Guruji himself never came, he kept in touch with me through his messengers. He always kept up with the news from Chittor. Perhaps that’s why he had chosen you for Bhoj long ago, in your childhood. That must be why he gave you this idol.

Meera clutched her beloved Giridharji to her chest—she was in no condition to say anything. Only streams of tears flowed from her eyes. To be honest, she had never really thought about her own life. There had never been a need to. Because from her very childhood, the reins of her life had been in Giridharji’s hands. Today, receiving yet another sign of that, tears of joy streamed from her eyes.

That day, all of Mewar celebrated with royal grandeur. The prince had returned to Mewar with his bride. Rajput royal families had come from far and wide to join the festivities. Meera stood by the window of her palace, watching the celebration stretch far into the distance. As the darkness of night deepened, the light from the lamps decorating the whole of Chittor grew even brighter. Meera’s palace was adorned with fresh garlands and lamps by the maidservants. A special place was prepared in one corner of the room for her Giridharji.

In another corner, musk (mrignavi) was placed. Its fragrance filled the entire room.

Fragrant. Meera sat in front of her beloved Giridharji, dressed in a yellow lehenga and adorned with various ornaments. Soon, she would be taken to the dining hall, where she and Bhoj would dine together with the rest of the family. But something about this new environment felt unfamiliar to her. So, she chose to sit quietly with her Giridharji for a little while. She didn’t feel like speaking—she only wanted to deeply absorb the atmosphere and the situation.

Just then, a few women entered the palace chamber. Hearing their laughter, Meera was pulled out of her contemplative state. She poured a little ghee into the lamp at Giridharji’s feet and stood up.

In the morning, the women of the palace had behaved warmly and affectionately toward her. But by nightfall, Meera noticed a stark change in many of them. Some had already begun to create a sense of distance from her. After the meal, the Queen Mother personally served Meera a bowl of kheer she had prepared herself. Rana Sangha, clearly pleased, said, “Mother, it seems you’ve truly taken a liking to your new granddaughter-in-law.”

Ratan Jhali said, “It’s all Guruji’s blessing. Without that, Mewar could never have been blessed with such a gem as Meera.”

Hearing all this, the senior queen (Badi Rani), Kunwar Bai, grew furious and said, “Mother, I’ve been in Mewar for so many years, but you’ve never made kheer for me. What is it about Meera that has you dancing with joy and placing her on a pedestal?”

The Queen Mother replied with a biting tone, “Only a jeweler understands the value of a diamond. You wouldn’t understand.”

Such public humiliation in front of the entire royal family was unbearable for the senior queen. Burning with rage, she stormed off to her quarters.

That night, Meera’s wedding chamber was decorated. The women of the fort helped prepare Meera, adorning her and settling her in the room. One maid came in with two yellow stone cups filled with sherbet and said gently, “You’ll have to wait just a little longer, Your Highness.”

It was as if Meera had sensed it all beforehand, so she remained silent. The maid said, “The senior queen mother is weeping, so Kunwar Sa is with her in her chambers. He hasn’t eaten anything yet. He’ll come only after calming her down and feeding her.”

As the maid was about to leave, she turned back and added, “He might not come at all. So please, drink the sherbet and get some rest. This is just the beginning. What’s the point of making yourself unwell?”

That night, Bhojraj truly couldn’t come. His mother, Kunwar Bai, kept him confined with her the entire night. Meera waited until midnight. Then, wrapping Giridharji in her arms, she fell asleep on the bed of flowers (Continues)

Click here for Part-1, Part-2, Part-3, Part-4, Part-5, Part-6, Part-7, Part-8, Part-9, Part-10, Part-11, Part-12, Part-13, 

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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.