Through this award-winning novel, the author has attempted to illuminate a lesser-known chapter of Meerabai’s life
Meera
By Debasree Chakraborti
Gadadhar Pandit said, “Many ascetics traveling from Merta to Dwarka in Gujarat spend the night in Mewar. Rana Sanga is deeply devoted to holy men and scholars. He gladly offers shelter to such sages as a way of serving the divine through royal hospitality. Tonight, a sage is arriving from Ujjain. He will spend the night here and depart at dawn for Somnath.”
“On the way, he will stay overnight in Chittor. I will accompany him in disguise and sing Meera’s praises before Rana Sanga. After that, any ascetic passing through this route to Mewar will become a messenger of Meera’s glory to the Rana.”
Since childhood, Meera had grown up with complete freedom under the care of her grandfather, Dudaji. As a result, her nature was far more open and transparent than that of other Rajput girls. Dudaji discussed all matters of Merta or family affairs in her presence before making decisions. Even the discussions about her marriage took place quite naturally in front of her.
That night, Meera couldn’t fall asleep at all. In one corner of the dark room, perfumed incense and an oil lamp were burning. A faint, fragrant light from that corner streamed toward Meera. Dressed in a simple white cotton ghagra and choli, her long hair flowing freely, she lay on the bed. Ramabai slept in the adjoining room, but she couldn’t sleep through the night either.
It was her habit to come in the middle of the night to check on Meera once. That night, she stood behind the curtain for a long time, silently watching. She saw Meera wide awake, resting her hand on her forehead, staring out the window, occasionally running her fingers through her tangled hair. It was clear from Meera’s face that she was deeply troubled.
Ramabai always took off her anklets at night, so when she entered Meera’s room very quietly, Meera didn’t notice. Ramabai gently placed her hand on Meera’s hair and said, “Rajkumari, you’re still awake so late—what’s troubling you?”
Meera held Ramabai’s hand and pulled her to sit beside her. She said, “Ramabai, Grandpa is thinking about marrying me to the prince of Mewar, Bhoj.”
Ramabai said, “That means… marriage with the son of Rana Sanga…”
Thoughts were swirling. Such incredibly joyous news. As far as I know, your family has had previous matrimonial alliances with the royal family of Mewar.
Ramabai’s family had been serving Meera’s family for several generations, so she had memorized the entire family history just from hearing it over the years.
Meera said, “Ramabai, tell me everything you know.”
Ramabai replied, “This goes back many years—right to the early 15th century. At that time, the ruler of Mewar was Rana Lakha, the grandson of Hammir. Meanwhile, the ruler of Marwar was Rawal Chunda. He wanted to marry off his daughter Hansabai to the crown prince of Mewar.”
“That prince’s name was also Chunda. But Rana Lakha himself wished to marry Hansabai. At this, the ruler of Marwar said, ‘Then my daughter’s son will never inherit the throne.’ On hearing this, Chunda declared, ‘Then I will become Bhishma.’”
“After that marriage, Mokul was born. And, true to Chunda’s vow, it was Mokul who ascended the throne. Mokul’s son was Rana Kumbha. And the grandson of that Rana Kumbha is Rana Sanga—the same Rana whose son Bhoj is being considered for your marriage.”
“The queen I just mentioned—Hansabai—her brother Ranmal later became the ruler of Marwar. He was the great-grandfather of your grandfather, Rana Dudaji.”
“So you see, there has been a long-standing relationship between the two royal families.”
Meera said, “I’ve heard that since the discovery of silver and lead mines in the Johar region, Mewar’s influence has grown immensely. With the death of Malwa’s ruler Nasiruddin and the weakening of the Sultan of Delhi, Sikandar Lodi, Mewar is becoming even stronger. Also, the Rana of Marwar—Rana Ganga—who is the grandson of my grandfather’s brother Rao Sujaji, has formed a familial bond with Mewar. All of them are now marching unitedly toward Delhi. What kind of bond will now form between Merta and Mewar—only time will tell.”
Ramabai said, “For resisting Babur’s invasion of India, an alliance between Mewar and Merta is absolutely essential.”
“Princess, don’t worry. Rana Sanga’s dream is to unite the entire Aryavarta (the noble land of India). Since the crown prince of this dreamland is Rana Bhoj, he has been training him from childhood with that very vision in mind.”
Meera looked out the window. The eastern sky was clearing, heralding the arrival of a new day. The cries of peacocks echoed from all directions, bringing with them the waves of a new era.
From Merta, news of Meera began to reach Rana Sanga of Mewar through various disguised messengers. Any sage or ascetic who passed through Merta on the way to Mewar would receive the hospitality of the Mewar court. Nearly every such ascetic sang praises of Meera, which reached the ears of Rana Sanga. Eventually, after consulting with his senior advisors, he concluded that accepting a virtuous girl like Meera as the wife of his eldest son would be a great honor for Mewar. Moreover, it would ensure that the leaders of Merta always stood beside Mewar.
Rana Sanga’s advisors also told him that there was no time to lose—such a talented and virtuous princess could be claimed at any moment by the royal families of other states for their sons. Without delay, Rana Sanga sent a marriage proposal through Mewar’s chief royal priest, accompanied by many gifts.
The chief priest of Mewar arrived at Rao Dudaji’s court in Merta carrying a ritual tray filled with rice, vermillion (sindoor), and oil.
That very morning, Rao Dudaji had been sitting in the temple, listening to Meera sing bhajans (devotional songs), while Gadadhar Pandit was performing the morning worship. The scent of incense and burning herbs filled the air, creating a divine atmosphere. In the temple pond behind them, pink lotus flowers had bloomed, and black bees were buzzing over them. At dawn, the temple courtyard often became a playground for peacocks. The platform of Merta’s Chaturbhujji temple felt like a divine garden—Nandankanan.
Amid that heavenly setting, with the first rays of the morning sun, the chief priest of Mewar arrived. A messenger had already informed Rao Dudaji of his arrival, so he was prepared. Rao Dudaji and Gadadhar Pandit welcomed the royal priest with both arms and escorted him into the palace.
As they entered the palace, the royal priest, casting a sidelong glance, saw Meera sitting inside the temple singing. A few lines formed on his forehead in concern.
The messengers who had accompanied the royal priest placed the gifts sent by Rana Sanga before Rao Dudaji. Then, presenting a tray full of rice, vermilion (sindoor), oil, bangles, and a red veil, the royal priest said, “Rana Sanga of Mewar seeks the hand of your granddaughter Meera for his eldest son, Prince Bhoj. Through this union, he wishes to establish a deep spiritual bond between Mewar and Merta.”
Taking the tray from the royal priest, Rao Dudaji said, “Let the union of these two powers give rise to a great force. I, Meera’s grandfather Rao Duda, accept this proposal with great joy.”
By then, Meera had stopped singing, and Ramabai had already led her inside the palace. Rao Dudaji made arrangements for the guests from Mewar to rest. Though all of them retired to their chambers, the royal priest from Mewar showed no signs of weariness or sleep. His eyes and ears seemed to be constantly scanning his surroundings. Eventually, a guard informed Rao Dudaji that the priest was wandering the streets of Merta, speaking with the local people. Smiling gently, Rao Dudaji said, “I understand. Let him do his work undisturbed. It is your responsibility to make sure he faces no obstacles anywhere.”
That afternoon, after bathing and completing her worship of Giridharji, Meera sat in her chambers with the idol of her beloved deity in her lap. Dressed in a red lehenga and adorned with diamond jewelry, she looked like the goddess of royalty herself.
In the presence of the royal priests from both Mewar and Merta, a special ritual was arranged. During the ceremony, Meera’s head was covered with the red veil sent from Mewar, and red bangles were placed on her wrists. Then, grains of rice and vermillion were spread on a ceremonial tray, and oil was poured over it. Meera’s hands were then pressed into this mixture, and the vermillion-covered impressions of her palms were transferred onto a white cloth.
After a brief Vedic ritual, a necklace made of green emeralds and diamonds, set in kundan (traditional Indian gemstone setting), sent from Mewar, was placed around Meera’s neck.
Rao Dudaji raised both his hands and blessed Meera. Then he said, “Meera, you once wished to remain a lifelong maiden and serve the country and its people.”
“That day, I did not promise to uphold your vow of lifelong celibacy—only so I could witness this day. Because I truly wanted you to become a queen and serve your land and its people. But I did promise you that Meera would never be a servant at anyone’s feet. In our Rajputana tradition, it is usually the girl’s family that sends a marriage proposal. But as you can see, in your case, the entire situation unfolded differently. Rana Sanga of Mewar himself sent a proposal for you to marry his heir. Do you realize, Meera, what an extraordinary honor that is? Perhaps not even you fully comprehend it.”
Ramabai said, “All of this is the blessing of Meera’s Giridharji. Meera, the way you love your Giridharji, that’s why He always looks after your well-being—and always will.”
Rao Dudaji nodded and said, “Ramabai speaks the truth. You will never have to live as someone’s subordinate or foot-servant.”
Hearing all this, the royal priest from Mewar became visibly irritated. He looked at Ramabai and said with disdain, “It seems even the maidservants here interfere in family matters.”
These words deeply hurt Meera. She turned to Ramabai and saw tears welling in her eyes. Her cheeks had turned red from shame. Meera could bear it no longer. She said, “After my mother died, Ramabai has remained unmarried just to raise me. The woman you call a maid is like a mother to me—the very tree whose branches sheltered me as I grew.”
The royal priest of Mewar turned to Rao Dudaji with an angry glare and declared, “A woman is always destined to live at a man’s feet. This has always been the way—and it always will be.”
At the royal priest’s words, it felt as if the sun blazed even more fiercely in Merta’s sky. The surrounding heat intensified, and the water levels in nearby lakes began to drop. The atmosphere had reached a boiling point…
…to the point that people’s lives became unbearable. The oppressive state of Merta’s environment began affecting everyone in the royal palace as well. Most burdened of all was Rao Dudaji. He started spending the majority of his time at the temple of Chaturbhujji. One day, the temple priest said to him, “There is no need to be so worried. Meera has been offered to Krishna—when someone is dedicated to the Lord, He becomes the controller of that person’s life. From that point on, no ordinary human authority holds sway over them. So please don’t be so anxious about Meera.”
Dudaji replied, “I understand all of that. But if the royal priest of Mewar can behave so rudely, what should I expect from the ruler of Mewar and his family? That’s what troubles me. I am a king myself. If a priest can show such insolence toward my family, I shudder to think how his master’s family might behave.”
Gadadhar Pandit said, “You mustn’t worry so much. Rana Sanga is a very wise and discerning man. Meera will be happy in his household.”
Rao Dudaji let out a long sigh and said, “Everything will be fine—if only it does turn out fine.”
Meanwhile, the royal priest reached Chittor and, without wasting any time, went straight to meet Rana Sanga. The Rana was sitting alone in his palace at the time. Seeing the priest, he was very pleased and said, “Royal Priest, I was waiting for you. Now tell me—what news have you brought from Merta?”
The priest, visibly agitated, said, “Maharaj, this marriage must not happen under any circumstances.”
Rana Sanga initially thought perhaps there was some flaw in Meera’s character, which was why the priest was opposing the alliance. Alarmed, he said, “Royal Priest, do not hide anything from me. Whatever has happened, tell me everything clearly.”
Now emboldened, the priest said, “Maharaj, the princess of Merta has a tongue as sharp as a blade. She doesn’t distinguish between high and low, and speaks bluntly to anyone. Not only the princess—even the palace maidservants express their opinions on royal family matters.”
Rana Sanga thought to himself: from what he had heard, Rao Dudaji had raised Meera with a complete and well-rounded education from early childhood. A princess of such upbringing was bound to be articulate—it was only natural, for education fosters freedom of speech. And a family that considers even its maidservants as part of the household, and grants them a voice in important decisions, must be exceptionally generous and broad-minded. So far, everything seemed acceptable—then what else could be the issue?
The royal priest now continued, “Ranaji, the princess holds gatherings and speaks publicly with common people. She dances and sings in temples, and I’ve heard that people come from far and wide just to witness her performances.”
Rana Sanga, now smiling with delight, said, “That means the princess also has the gift of public engagement. Royal Priest, Bhoj is destined to become the sovereign of all India one day. Meera will be his queen. If a queen possesses the ability to connect with people that is indeed a matter of great joy.”
The royal priest protested, “But in such a manner? Through dance and music?”
Rana Sanga smiled gently and replied, “Not everyone follows the same path. Perhaps Meera has found success through this method—then this must be her path.”
The royal priest said, “Ranaji, you are making a grave mistake. Rao Dudaji has promised his granddaughter that she will never be a foot-servant to anyone. That is sheer arrogance. Just because she is to marry Prince Bhoj, they will try to make him a servant at her feet. Look, Ranaji, I, too, have responsibilities toward the prince—I cannot let his life be ruined this way.”
Rana Sanga responded, “Your concern for the prince’s future is commendable. But any family that teaches their daughter to live with dignity and self-respect would never disrespect someone else.”
There was a moment of silence.
After a pause, the royal priest said quietly, “Ranaji, Meera has been dedicated to Krishna even before her birth. To her, all men except Krishna are ‘other men.’ The rest—you may judge for yourself.”
Rana Sanga realized that there was no flaw in Meera’s character. A young girl who had devoted her entire heart and soul to Krishna was, in fact, deeply pure.
Ranaji said to the royal priest, “You are trying to disprove Vatsyayana’s Kamasutra itself. When ghee and fire are kept side by side, they are bound to ignite—nothing can prevent it. The rest, my son Prince Bhoj will understand on his own.”
The royal priest replied, “Then please summon the prince. I wish to tell him everything directly.”
Rana Sanga was pleased with the priest’s sense of duty. He thought, this man is truly vigilant about the future of the crown prince. How many truly think like this, even among the wise?
On Rana Sanga’s order, Prince Bhoj arrived. The royal priest revealed everything to him.
After hearing it all, Bhoj said, “That is actually wonderful news. If Meera wishes to live a life of devotion and spiritual practice, I will build a temple for her.”
After this, the royal priest had nothing more to say. He accepted his due honorarium and returned home.
However, the other envoys who had accompanied the royal priest to Merta later informed the Maharaja that the priest had behaved very rudely toward Rao Dudaji and his granddaughter Meera—conduct that could severely damage the relationship between the two royal families. At the same time, they also praised the Merta royal family’s gracious hospitality and spoke highly of Meera’s beauty and virtues.
But the priest’s disgraceful behavior deeply troubled Rana Sanga. In his heart, he felt a great sense of shame. (Continues)
Click here for Part-1, Part-2, Part-3, Part-4, Part-5, Part-6, Part-7,
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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.
