Through this award-winning novel, the author has attempted to illuminate a lesser-known chapter of Meerabai’s life
Meera
By Debasree Chakraborti
Place: Chittor Fort, Merta
The news that Meera Bai was to be executed by being drowned in the Suraj Kund reached Queen Karmet Bai, who hurried to Queen Dhan Bai’s palace. Dhan Bai now wholeheartedly supported Meera. After Ratan Singh’s death, she was deeply enraged with Rao Ganga of Jodhpur and with Banvir. Queen Dhan Bai knew very well that if anyone was responsible for Ratan’s death, it was none other than Banvir. She was also not unaware that it was his conspiracies that had been claiming one queen after another as sacrifice.
Queen Dhan Bai said, “This is an insult to the queens of Mewar. Under no circumstances can we let Meera die.”
Karmet Bai replied, “That is exactly what I am saying too. Let’s see if we can somehow prevent this death.”
After thinking for a while, Karmet Bai said, “I have information that these days the royal employees are not receiving their proper wages. They are in dire financial straits. Those who are to drown Meera tomorrow in the Suraj Kund—if they receive suitable payment, then perhaps our wish can be fulfilled.”
Champa and Chameli had come along with Karmet Bai. They said, “My Queen, if you are ready to give the right amount of money, then we can try to persuade them.”
Karmet Bai said, “I am ready.”
Dhan Bai added, “We two will provide the money. You persuade them. And listen, tomorrow morning not a single woman of Mewar will remain indoors—each one of you must surround the Suraj Kund and sing the songs written by Meera. We queens too will be present there. In this way, we will register our protest.”
Just then, Udabai came to Meera Bai and said, “Bai Sa, if you accept all of Banvir’s terms, then I can speak to him and stop your execution.”
Hearing Uda’s words, Meera laughed and said, “Uda, you are still very childish. Go, keep yourself busy with your own games.”
The women of the fort began to sing songs teasing Uda. They said Uda had said—
“Thane baraj baraj me haari, bhabhi, maano baat hamaari.
Raajeros kio kha upar, saadho me mat jaari.”
Which meant: “I admit defeat in trying to stop you. Sister-in-law, listen to me. Rana is angry with you. Do not mingle so much with saints and ascetics.”
“Ratan jarit pahiro aabhushan, bhogo bhogo apaari.
Meeraji the chalo mahal me, thane sogan khaari.”
Meaning: “Adorn yourself with jewelry, enjoy the pleasures of life. By my oath, Meera ji, leave the temple and return to the palace.”
Now the women of the palace responded to Meera in song,
“Rana ne samjhao jao, Meerake prabhu Giridhar Nagar, santa haath bikaani.
Udabai man samajh jao, aapne dhaam. Rajpaat bhogo taksi, hume na taasu kaam.”
Meaning: “Go tell Rana that Meera’s Lord is Giridhar Nagar, she has surrendered herself into the hands of saints. Udabai, make peace in your heart, and return to your own home. Rule and wealth are yours to enjoy, but we have no need of such things.”
Unknowingly, Udabai had become drawn to Meera. She could not accept Banvir’s decision in any way. A terrible guilt gnawed at her heart, yet she could not figure out what to do.
Meanwhile, ever since the news of Meera’s death sentence spread, every household in the villages within Chittor Fort began observing arandhan (refusal to cook). Women sat outside their homes, beating plates and singing Meera’s songs in protest. Their defiance, like a roaring cannon, only fanned the flames of Banvir’s wrath further.
Dhan Bai and Karmet Bai rushed from their palaces to Meera’s residence. They sat by Meera’s side the entire night. Yet, amidst all of this turmoil, there was not the slightest trace of fear or dread on Meera’s face. Seeing Champa and Chameli weeping, she kept consoling them instead.
Queen Dhan Bai said, “By killing Meera, Banvir wants to put the entire blame on Vikramjit. He wants the people to hate Vikram.”
Karmet Bai replied, “I understand everything. Ever since Rana’s death, Banvir has spun a labyrinth around us, trapping us as he pleases. But there seems to be no way to escape it.”
While everyone in Meera’s palace was engrossed in conversation, Udabai appeared there. Words seemed to have left her lips; her face was filled with guilt as she stared at Meera. After watching her for a long while, Meera stretched out her arms. Uda rushed forward and buried her face in Meera’s bosom, weeping. Meera said gently, “Uda, I knew you would return to the right path. You had to come back.”
Thus, the whole night passed, and with dawn, the light spread across the land.
At daybreak the next morning, all the women of Chittor Fort gathered around the Suraj Kund, singing Meera’s songs. Queens Dhan Bai and Karmet Bai too arrived at the Suraj Kund along with Meera. The women had resolved that if anyone attempted to drown Meera, they themselves would leap into the waters of the Kund. History bore witness that the women of Chittor never thought twice before offering their lives in sacrifice.
Banvir and Vikramjit had already arrived there earlier with their supporters. As soon as Meera arrived, a strange smile appeared on Banvir’s face. He instructed his two guards, “Shubhasya Sheeghram” (“the sooner the better”).
The two guards moved towards Meera. From either side, they seized her arms and began leading her towards the Suraj Kund. A gentle smile played upon Meera’s lips; far from resisting, she calmly stepped into the waters of the Kund. The guards forced her down into the water. But—what was this? Meera floated back up.
Again and again, they tried to drown her, but each time she rose back to the surface, untouched.
Champa and Chameli came and stood behind Dhan Bai and Karmet Bai. From all sides…
Cries of victory rang out in Meera’s name. The women of Chittor entered the waters of the Suraj Kund, embraced her, and lifted her out. From every household of Chittor Fort the sound of conch shells reverberated. It was the triumph of dharma over adharma. Word spread quickly among the people—Meera Bai was no ordinary woman, she was a goddess from heaven. Such an insult to a goddess could not be tolerated even by religion itself, and Vikramjit would have to pay for this sin.
News reached Banvir that Meera would be leaving Mewar at dawn the next day.
Banvir laughed and said, “Nothing could be a better arrangement than this. Meera doesn’t need to reach Merta at all. On the road, she will die at the hands of bandits.”
He sent his agents to strike a deal with the fierce dacoits of the Aravallis.
Meanwhile, hearing of Meera’s impending departure from Chittor, crowds gathered outside her palace. They were common people from the villages inside the fort as well as royal employees. Each of them revered Meera Bai deeply. Shouting in unison, they said, “Bai Sa, you are the Rajlakshmi of Chittor. To have you as our Bai Sa is the accumulated merit of our forefathers through many lifetimes. You cannot leave us like this. If you go, what will become of us?”
From another side, the royal employees raised their voices, “Bai Sa, you are on the path of dharma. Then why should you leave? It is those who have committed adharma who must leave Mewar. We will not let you go.”
Meera Bai understood at once—a people’s rebellion was about to break out. This would be extremely dangerous for Chittor. For Udai Singh was still very young, and if Vikramjit were dethroned, it would be very easy for Banvir to seize power. The situation had to be controlled immediately.
Meera came and stood before the window of her palace and said, “First, calm yourselves. I have something to tell you.”
At the sight of her, the crowd erupted with shouts of victory: “Glory to Meera Bai Sa, glory!” Meanwhile, hearing of her death sentence, even the tribals from Kumbhalgarh had come there. When the crowd fell silent, Meera Bai spoke:
“Our personal interests must…”
We shall not give priority to ourselves here, for above all comes Chittor. Protecting Chittor is our foremost duty. There is no use in keeping me confined like this, for my work in Chittor has come to an end. And if I am held back here, I will be unable to do anything further for Chittor. To safeguard the future of Chittor, I must leave. Yet this will never sever our bond—never in any way. Wherever I may be, I shall work for your well-being, and you will continue to remain in touch with me. Before leaving, I wish to entrust the responsibility of protecting Chittor and Vikramjit into your hands. For Udai is still very young, and the throne of Chittor must wait a few more years.
To my tribal brothers and sisters of Kumbhalgarh Fort, I entrust the duty of guarding Chittor’s future. I know that as long as your lives endure, Chittor’s destiny will not be harmed. Now is the time for us to undergo our trial by fire. To save Chittor, you must now let me go.
From all around, the people raised triumphant cries in Meera Bai’s name. Meera then went back inside her palace. Champa and Chameli came, carrying their little bundles, and said, “Bai Sa, wherever you go, we shall go too. You cannot leave your Champa and Chameli behind.”
When Meera extended her arms, Champa and Chameli ran to her and embraced her tightly.
The next day, before leaving Mewar, Meera encountered her uncle Biramdev and the army of Merta, who had come to meet her. It was with them that she returned to Merta.
Thus, Banvir was defeated by his own scheme. He had informed Biramdevji in the hope of dethroning Vikramjit. Had Meera not met Biramdevji that very day, she might have had to offer her life as a sacrifice at the hands of the Aravalli bandits.
Night descended upon the land of Merta. From the shops all around…
Light drifted in from the distance. Saanjh and Pratap sat side by side on the veranda. From afar, the strains of a Rajasthani folk song floated in the air.
Saanjh’s heart was heavy. She was deeply pained for Meera Bai. She said to Pratap, “Pratap, was it true that Meera was killed?”
Pratap remained silent for a while before answering, “At that time, it is said that Shri Chaitanya, Chaitanya’s elder brother Vishwarupa, Meera Bai, and Nityananda—all of them merged into the idols of the temple deities. But think carefully with a rational mind—can that ever be possible? Then what might it be? Judge with your own wisdom.”
After Meera left Mewar, Bahadur Shah of Gujarat invaded and reduced it to ruins. The people of Mewar, lamenting in grief, cried, “Meera Bai was the Lakshmi of Mewar. Because she was driven away, Mewar has met this fate.” They began pouring out their anger against Banvir and Vikramjit.
At that time Banvir was removed from power, and Rana’s stepmother, Queen Dhan Bai, was made regent. Once she assumed power, Queen Dhan Bai said to Prime Minister Eknath Bhatt, “Prime Ministerji, bring Meera Bai back.”
The Prime Minister replied, “My Queen, we had already tried long before you gave permission. But she will not return. Never.”
Dhan Bai said, “Considering the insult with which Meera left, it is indeed right that she does not return. But if she does not come back, neither the common people of Mewar nor the people of Merta will ever stand with us. Now, the Portuguese have attacked Gujarat, so Bahadur Shah has retreated. But he could return any day. Have you thought what will become of Mewar then?”
All her life, Queen Dhan Bai had wished to become an administrator. In Chittor’s time of crisis, that wish was fulfilled. Alongside managing Chittor’s administration, she also began taking training in the art of warfare. Just as Kaikeyi of the Ramayana had once gone to battle with Dasharatha, Dhan Bai seemed to transform into the Kaikeyi of Chittor.
In time, the Queen’s prophecy came true. Bahadur Shah once again invaded Mewar and reduced it to ruins. Queen Dhan Bai then declared, “Open the royal treasury. Let Bahadur Shah take whatever he wants, but let Mewar be freed.”
Bahadur Shah plundered the royal treasury of Mewar and departed. On that day, not a single king of Rajasthan came forward to stand by Mewar. On the contrary, Banvir’s men themselves supported Bahadur Shah.
The next morning, Saanjh and Pratap went to visit the fort of Merta. What they saw there left them awestruck. It was as though living history was unfolding right before their eyes.
In their mind’s eye, Saanjh and Pratap saw Meera Bai. Inside one of the fort’s palaces, imprisoned, Meera’s uncle was saying to her:
“Meera, whatever worship and devotion you wish to do, you must do it within these four walls. All this association with saints must end now. Remember, Merta’s honor is tied to you. Therefore, under no circumstances must you mingle with the common people. That will not bring you any good.”
On Meera’s face there appeared a look of terrible helplessness. In the dirty politics of Chittor Fort, her spirit had remained unbroken. But what had happened to her here in Merta? Her willpower seemed shattered into pieces.
Saanjh could see that within the glittering brilliance of Merta Fort, there lay a deep darkness. Meera sat lost in thought, while Champa and Chameli sat before her. Champa said,
“Bai Sa, now that you have come to Merta, your hands and feet are bound. What will you do now?”
Meera Bai replied in a deeply sorrowful voice, “Even before birth, shackles are placed upon our feet. From the age of the epics this has been the way, and changing it is not so easy.”
Chameli asked, “Bai Sa, from the age of the epics? We do not understand. Please explain a little more.”
Meera Bai said, “Dasharatha gave his daughter in adoption to a sage named Romapada. Shanta’s only fault was that she was born a daughter. Romapada raised her and gave her in marriage to a sage named Rishyasringa. When Dasharatha had no sons, he turned to Shanta for help. Shanta sent her husband Rishyasringa to assist her father. Because of Shanta’s efforts, Dasharatha obtained sons, but Shanta herself had no place beside them. What a humiliation! In the Mahabharata…”
Kumbhi too had the same fate. Kumbhi’s foster father, knowing full well the terrible character of Durvasa, still sent Kunti to serve him. Despite being aware of Durvasa’s whimsical nature, he placed Kunti at his disposal to appease him. Would he have done the same if she had been his own daughter? He had told Kunti: “You know, if girls of low or inferior lineage are kept within the bounds of some discipline and custom, they might still, out of restlessness, do what they should not. ‘Douskuleyā viśeṣaṇe kathaṃcit pragrahaṃ gatāḥ, bālabhāvād vikurvanti prāyaśaḥ pramādāḥ śubhe.’”
From this it becomes clear that in return for raising Kunti, he placed upon her such a great burden of responsibility. And in that role, Kunti was nothing more than a state-servant.
“My own condition is much the same,” Meera said. “I found no happiness in my in-laws’ house. After Bhojraj’s death, I have lingered among my husband’s family like a weed. Now, returning to Merta as a married woman has brought them no joy at all. Under their shelter, I live like a parasite. In Grandfather Sa’s lifetime, Merta was one thing; but the Merta of today is vastly different. Therefore, I cannot stay here much longer.”
In the corners of Merta Fort, Saanjh seemed to witness the flowing stream of history. Entering another chamber of the palace, he saw Meera speaking to her brother Jaymal: “Jaymal, I have been in Merta for a long time now. This worldly life does not please me. I wish to renounce it and spend the last days of my life in Vrindavan.”
Tears welled in Jaymal’s eyes. He said, “I know you are not happy even in Merta. I too wish that wherever you are, you live well and stay healthy. Very well then, I shall arrange for your journey to Vrindavan. For a person’s self-respect comes before all else. Without self-respect, it is impossible to live in peace anywhere.”
Saanjh felt that as the day of Meera’s departure for Vrindavan drew near, her mind grew ever more restless. It was as though she could hear the call of the Yamuna. Through the currents of the Yamuna, someone from her past life, someone very close and dear, seemed to be calling her. She had no power to resist that call. And so her heart grew unsettled.
Since coming to Merta, Meera had realized that the days of her childhood with Rao Dudaji could never return again, nor could those days with Ramabai…No. After coming to Merta, she searched a lot for Ramabai, but no one could give her any trace of her. She pleaded with her uncle and aunt to let her go to Ramabai’s village just once. But they paid no heed to Meera’s words; instead, her proposal to go to Ramabai’s village sparked a storm of criticism. After returning to her father’s home after so many years, Meera felt as if she had taken shelter in some unfamiliar household where she had no rights. Her uncle even forbade her from going to the temple of Chaturbhujji. The maidservants in the fort of Merta, too, cast sidelong glances at her. In truth, the maids from Ramabai’s time were no longer in Merta; with the passage of time, the maids had also changed. These new maids, too, indulged in gossip about Meera, saying that she had committed a sin by returning to Merta from her in-laws’ house. They even held discussions about Meera’s character.
One day Champa and Chameli overheard these conversations among the maids and protested. One maid said that a merchant had once come from Chittor to Merta, and he had claimed that he saw Meera Bai committing indecencies with a hermit at the temple of Giridharji, and that was why the Rana had driven her away. Hearing this, Champa and Chameli protested sharply, saying, “What do you understand of Bai Sa’s worth? Even her own family considers her as filth—can’t you then realize what state poor widow Bai Sa must have faced in her in-laws’ house? She was driven out by attaching a vile slander to her name. Because in her presence they could not harm Chittor.”
Then another maid said, “Everyone knows what your Bai Sa is like, no need to keep weeping for her, understand?”
In reply, Champa said, “You don’t have to worry about Bai Sa anymore. In just a few days, she will take us with her to Vrindavan.”
When the maids heard about Meera going to Vrindavan, they scoffed, “Yes, yes, go on then, bid farewell, go to Vrindavan and play your Rasleela there.”
When Meera’s proposal of going to Vrindavan reached the family of Veermadevji, they raised no objection. They too wished that Meera would set out for Vrindavan as soon as possible. Thus, the day of her departure drew near. On the morning of her departure, Meera bathed…
After finishing the worship of Giridharji, she got ready to set out. Champa and Chameli too were prepared to go. Just then Meera’s aunt came and said, “For a widow, devotion and religious duties are the only rightful path. Family life is not meant for a widow.”
Meera knew there was no use in speaking much with ignorant people, so she simply bowed to her aunt and kept moving forward. That day, outside the fort, she entered the temple of Chaturbhujji for the last time. She had nothing to offer at the feet of Chaturbhujji, except the devotion and reverence of a prisoner—what else could she give? Since returning to Merta, Meera had not shed a single tear, but upon entering the temple of Chaturbhujji, she could no longer control her emotions. All those priceless memories of time spent with her grandfather rose before her eyes.
By the efforts of Gadadhar Pandit, Meera’s bhajans had been inscribed on the walls of this temple. People from far and wide used to come rushing to listen to her devotional songs. It was in this very temple that she had been tied in the sacred seven rounds of marriage with Bhojraj. How could she forget those days, her Merta, so dear to her heart? How close this Merta was to her, and yet today it felt so distant. Here, she had no right to live with her head held high.
From behind, Veermadevji said, “The road is not safe. There are dangers of every kind on the way. Set out while it is still daytime—you must reach your next destination before evening, from where you will have to resume your journey again at dawn.”
Meera understood everything, yet she remained silent. If there were such dangers on the road, then why was her uncle allowing her to go? Could she not continue her worship and devotion while staying in Merta itself? Thinking such thoughts, Meera kept walking ahead.
Jaimall came from behind, took hold of Meera’s hand, and said, “Meera, you will not go anywhere. By right, I am the next Rana of Merta. So I am telling you, I myself will build a temple of Giridharji for you. That temple will be outside this fort, where you can sit, talk with common people, and carry on your worship and devotion.”
Tears welled up in Meera Bai’s eyes, her throat choked with emotion. She said, “I know that after Grandfather Sa, if anyone in Merta loves me with their life, it is none other than you. But you could never go against your father’s…”
You must not oppose your father. Your father is still the ruler of Merta; there will always be complaints from the subjects against him. But the moment you oppose your father, that opposition will spread among the people. If a rebellion arises, the kingdom will suffer. And always remember one more thing—always keep in touch with the common people. Because if there is a foreign invasion, it is these very people who will protect you.
Tears welled up in Jaymal’s eyes, his voice filled with emotion. He said, “As a brother, I could never do anything for you. Today I feel like a sinner.”
Meera said, “Do not be sad. The time will come when I will seek your help. Then you must help me. For now, preserve your strength.”
Meera did not linger any longer; she moved ahead with Champa and Chameli. (Continue)
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, Part-16, Part-17, Part-18, Part-19, Part-20, Part-21, Part-22, Part-23, Part-24, Part-25, Part-26, Part-27, Part-28, Part-29, Part-30, Part-31, Part-32, Part-33, Part-34,
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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.
