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

Meera

By Debasree Chakraborti

It had been since her early childhood that Kunwar Bai gave up her dolls and came to Chittor as a royal bride. And from that moment on, she had lived through years of neglect. Even so, there remained in her a strange, enduring affection for her mother-in-law. That is why, time and again, she runs to the Queen Mother for solace. And even when something the Queen Mother says strikes her heart like a blow, she doesn’t hold onto the hurt for long.

So, trying once more to win her mother-in-law over to her side, she said, “Ma Sa…”

“You know,” Kunwar Bai said, “this new daughter-in-law apparently sings devotional songs and dances in the garden of the Kumbh Shyam temple. Can you imagine what a disgrace that is?”

Queen Mother Ratan Jhali smiled gently and replied, “Yes, I’ve heard that too. Meera used to sit and sing bhajans at her father’s temple, and devotees would come from far and wide to listen.”

“Ma Sa, is that all?” Kunwar Bai continued. “They say this girl even sits with men and discusses politics! I come from a much nobler lineage than her. I can’t even imagine such things. I’ve never understood politics, nor do I want to. I’ve never danced or sung in my life. And yet I’m the Queen of Mewar! Kings rule the kingdom, not queens. So why was such a shameless girl made the Crown Princess? Tell me that.”

Queen Mother Ratan Jhali replied, “My son, Rana Sangha, dreams of expanding his kingdom from the Hindu Kush to the Brahmaputra, and from the Himalayas to the southern seas. His heir is my grandson Bhojraj. Naturally, his wife must be different from the other queens—because she is destined to become the Empress of India someday.”

Kunwar Bai, unable to convince her mother-in-law, changed the subject and said, “These days, Queen Dhan Bai too has begun to wield extreme influence. Rana Ji is completely taken with Kunwar Ratan Singh. My maid told me that Dhan Bai is now trying to poison Rana Ji’s mind against Bhojraj.”

Annoyed, Queen Mother Ratan Jhali responded, “I don’t believe any of this nonsense, Bindari. Bhoj has been raised and trained by his father’s own hands. He is the next Tikayet—the future heir of Mewar.”

Still, a sharp seed of doubt had managed to take root in her heart, planted carefully by Kunwar Bai.

The Queen Mother added, “The Rathores of Merta don’t get along with the Rathores of Jodhpur. That’s why Meera will never side with Dhan Bai—especially not against her own husband.”

Lowering her voice, Queen Kunwar Bai whispered slowly, “The Rathores of Jodhpur…”

A powerful faction is forming within the fort of Mewar. They are growing stronger by the day. It’s said that they’re receiving financial support from Jodhpur. Soon, Mewar will run according to their wishes. They plan to remove Bhojraj and make Ratan Singh the Rana.

Queen Mother Ratan Jhali, shocked, asked, “How can they depose the elder son of the Rana and make the younger one the king?”

There was a hint of harshness in Kunwar Bai’s voice now. She said, “Ma Sa, was Rana Sangha himself his father’s eldest son?”

“Karmet Bai’s son Vikramjeet receives no such affection in this palace, so why all this special treatment for the second prince? It’s something worth thinking about.”

With those words, Kunwar Bai had struck deep into Ratan Jhali’s heart—and a blow like that was sure to invite retaliation. The Queen Mother replied, “Bindari, let me remind you of something. After your marriage, you kept Sangha to yourself for days on end. That used to upset me too, but you never saw that. Now, coming from you, such things about Meera are unbecoming. You’re older now—leave these domestic intrigues behind and turn your mind toward religion and devotion.

“Bindari, you just told me you have no interest in politics, but what I see is that you’ve lit a dangerous fire of filthy palace politics inside Mewar’s fort. And in the flames of that fire, you will be the first to burn—dragging us all down with you. And you speak of Meera? Meera is a learned and wise woman. Don’t judge her within your narrow definitions.”

Overwhelmed with hurt, Kunwar Bai began to cry. “Ma Sa, have you really dismissed me like this?”

The Queen Mother replied, “Sometimes the elders must learn from the younger ones. I, too, am learning from Meera. She is the fruit of generations of Mewar’s penance. She is blessed with royal grace. If you insult her like this, you will have to pay the price.”

Just then, a desert storm blew into the Queen Mother’s chambers, leaving chaos in its wake.

Kunwarbai slowly exited the Queen Mother’s chambers and began walking toward her own quarters. As she moved along the dimly lit corridor flanked by grey stone walls, it felt as though she were walking not just through space, but from the present into the past. Lost in a daze, she reached her quarters, shut the door to her bedchamber, and sat down.

She gazed at the grey stone walls, tears rolling down her cheeks. Amidst the twilight ambiance of the palace, a scene from a bright sunny day in the past surfaced before her eyes: the memory of thirteen-year-old Kunwarbai’s first arrival at Chittor Fort on the back of a camel. Peeking through the red, gem-studded curtain of her palanquin, the young girl had lifted her head and looked up at the towering structures of Chittor. To that little girl, every corner of the grand fort had seemed like a land straight out of a fairy tale. Though born a princess of the Solanki royal family, such magnificence and splendor had felt otherworldly to her.

There was, of course, the pain of leaving behind her family and loved ones—but the sorrow of parting from her mother’s embrace had been soothed, at least in part, by the tender touch of Rana Sangha’s love. In that unfamiliar world, she had found a profound companionship. Through the warmth of his love, she had slowly grown and matured.

But over time, she realized that this dazzling, resplendent world of wealth and royalty had a dark side as well. In the early days of marriage, each night in the new palace had felt like heavenly bliss. Yet, alongside worldly pleasures and comforts, she never learned the importance—expected of a royal wife—of devotion to God, of reading the Ramayana and Mahabharata. Nor did she understand how to immerse herself and her family in the complex web of palace politics.

So, even though she gave Rana Sangha a son to carry forward his lineage, she could not retain her rightful place in his heart for long. Her lack of spiritual inclination kept her from ever truly becoming close to her devout mother-in-law. And thus, in the ever-shifting flow of time, the wedding shehnais once again echoed through the halls of Chittor Fort. But from the very beginning, she had been kept in the dark. The first news had come to her from a maidservant. (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, Part-14, Part-15, 

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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.