Didda said, “I never wanted to be a goddess. I am a human being made of flesh and blood. I wanted love. I wanted to live among people as one of them. But God did not allow that.”

Maharani Didda: Witch Queen of Kashmir

By Debasree Chakraborti

After the wedding, a life of captivity began for Basundhara. Kashmir’s nature was so beautiful, yet she had no permission to go anywhere beyond the palace walls.

From morning till evening Abhimanyu remained busy in the royal court, and during those hours Basundhara felt suffocated. The palace was always surrounded by impenetrable guards. She was not accustomed to such an environment—she had lived freely all her life. Thinking of the many-colored days of her life in Himabat, Basundhara wept silently. Her father, mother, her companions, and the palace of Himabat remained nothing more than a beautiful dream. Thus, crying her heart out, an entire day passed. When evening descended amid nature, at that very moment Abhimanyu entered Basundhara’s dark chamber.

Abhimanyu could not tolerate darkness at all. He called the maidservants and ordered them to light the lamps throughout the palace, but Basundhara forbade him.

Darkness made Abhimanyu feel breathless, so ignoring Basundhara’s words he shouted, “First light up the entire palace. Why has it been kept dark for so long? Don’t you know I cannot tolerate darkness?”

The person in charge of lighting the palace replied, “Your Majesty, the Queen forbade us. She said that without her permission we should not enter this part of the palace.”

Abhimanyu said, “Light the lamps first. And make sure this never happens again—keep that in mind.”

Slowly, beginning from Abhimanyu’s bedchamber, the entire palace was illuminated. He saw that Basundhara had not changed from the previous night’s clothes; her hair was undone. She looked gravely unwell. Abhimanyu came close, gently running his hand through her hair, and said, “What has happened to you? Since you came here, why has the smile vanished from your face with each passing day? No adornment, no ornamentation!

“You look so beautiful when you dress up—tell me, what is wrong?”

Basundhara buried her head in Abhimanyu’s chest and began to cry. Through her sobs she said, “Ever since the wedding I keep hearing that I am not worthy of you, that beside your mother I seem out of place. They say Queen Mother Didda has shown me mercy by indirectly allowing me to sit in the place of a daughter-in-law.”

Holding Basundhara tightly to his chest, Abhimanyu said, “Who has said these things to you?”

She cried even louder and said, “Why—don’t the maidservants discuss these things all day long, making sure I hear them? In praise of your mother… “So they may be two-faced, but in their eyes there is no respect for me as the Queen of Kashmir.”

Abhimanyu was extremely gentle, courteous, and intelligent. Understanding his wife’s childlike distress, he held her in his arms, kissed the crown of her head, and said with a soft smile, “I understand. But I believe this is not the only reason—there are many more causes behind your sorrow.”

Hearing this, Basundhara lifted her head from Abhimanyu’s chest and looked at him. She said, “Why is there such heavy guarding all around our palace? It is almost six months since our marriage. So many times I have asked you to take me to Himabat, but your mother has not allowed us to go. Why is she doing this? Don’t we have a duty towards my father, mother, and my family? Does she not understand that?”

To Abhimanyu, his mother was equal to their clan goddess, Mother Bhavani, and to hear criticism of her was almost sinful. This time he spoke in a slightly stern tone, “You are speaking like this because you hold many misconceptions about her without knowing anything. Do you know that after my father’s death we were subjected to one deadly attack after another? At that time, the prime minister Phalgun, my father’s nephews, and neighboring kings conspired together to annihilate us and seize Kashmir.”

Abhimanyu was calm by nature, and when he spoke with intensity he became short of breath. Pausing for a moment to steady himself, he tightly held his wife’s hand and said, “Before our marriage, everything was explained to your father from our side. Perhaps he did not feel it necessary to tell you everything. Basundhara, now splash some water on your face and eat something—you look starved.”

Abhimanyu’s final words wounded Basundhara even more. The father she trusted most in her life had also betrayed her! Even after the marriage, he had not once expressed any desire to take her back to Himabat. The terrifying life she was living here—perhaps he knew everything and yet remained silent. Why had he brought such great ruin upon her? She would have to know the answer. Basundhara… That night she decided that she would flee Kashmir and go to Himabat.

For this, extensive preparation was necessary. Without food in her stomach, it would not be possible for her to travel such a long distance. So, like an obedient wife compelled by circumstances, she listened to Abhimanyu and ate a full meal that night, then tied some fruits and sweets into her veil. Didda was as intelligent as her daughter-in-law was childish by nature. Having been pampered and cared for all her life as a royal princess, her practical sense had never truly developed.

That night passed peacefully. The next morning, when Abhimanyu went to the royal court, security in this palace was somewhat relaxed. At that time the vigilance was not so tight; the guards focused more on the security of the court. Basundhara took advantage of this very moment. Around midday, after the noon meal, there were usually only two guards left in Abhimanyu’s palace. From this palace, a passage led down into the subterranean tunnels, through which one could exit beyond the palace grounds. Many such routes ran from the royal palace of Kashmir through underground passages to various corners of the kingdom.

Once, Abhimanyu had shown her that path. The secret key to enter this passage from Abhimanyu’s palace was kept in a hidden place within the palace—Abhimanyu had shown her that place as well and had said, “Don’t worry at all. One day, we will use this path to throw dust in our enemies’ eyes and go to Himavat.” These words stayed in Basundhara’s mind. Trusting Abhimanyu, she entered the underground passage and began to run, losing all sense of direction. After going some distance, her body began to fail, because the air here was very scarce and there was terrifying darkness all around. As a pungent, foul smell entered her nostrils in that darkness, she lost consciousness.

In the evening, when Abhimanyu returned from the royal court, he could not find Basundhara anywhere in the palace. Upon hearing of Basundhara’s disappearance, Didda and Bhalaga rushed to Abhimanyu’s quarters. The guards began searching everywhere. Just then, Bhalaga noticed that the door to the underground chamber—the entrance to that passage—was open. Without wasting any time, he took a torch in his own hand and entered that path. He did not have to go very far…“No. After going only a short distance, he found Basundhara lying unconscious.”

Though Bhalaga had grown old in years, his physical strength had not diminished in the least; rather, it seemed to be increasing day by day. Lifting Basundhara over one shoulder and holding a torch in the other hand, he returned to the palace.

That night the royal physician arrived and examined Basundhara very carefully, then announced that she was going to become a mother. Hearing the news of Queen Basundhara’s pregnancy, the people of Kashmir burst into celebration. Didda’s joy knew no bounds. With both hands she began distributing gifts among the people. For an entire month, special offerings were arranged at the Kheer Bhavani and Shankaracharya temples for the welfare of the Queen and her unborn child.

Basundhara’s attempt to flee the palace deeply troubled Didda. She began to wonder whether some injustice had been done to Basundhara. What could have happened that, within just a few months of marriage, she had tried to run away? When Abhimanyu was questioned about this, he smiled calmly and said, “Mother, Basundhara is extremely childish and restless by nature. She has intense curiosity about everything. I had shown her this path, so out of sheer curiosity she entered it. There is no reason to worry so much about this.”

Trusting her son’s words, Didda took all responsibility for Basundhara upon herself. When Didda herself had been pregnant, her own mother-in-law had taken her entire responsibility in exactly the same way. Fulfilling all the duties of the mother before the arrival of the heir was, indirectly, equal to fulfilling one’s duty toward Kashmir itself. Therefore, Didda now began spending almost the entire day in Abhimanyu’s palace.

In Didda’s presence, Basundhara became even more withdrawn. Even when asked questions, she did not respond. Everything seemed to turn one-sided. For instance, one day Didda prepared a kind of laddoo made with mori and brought it to Basundhara, saying, “Basundhara, at this time, as you are going through this condition, many kinds of problems arise in the body. That is why one must eat this laddoo now. My mother-in-law used to make it with her own hands and feed it to me. Today I have brought it for you—come, eat it.”

Bhalaga was watching them from a distance. He noticed a change in Basundhara’s body language. Her face and eyes turned blood-red. She looked at Didda… pushing the plate of laddoos away with her hand, she said, “I do not trust you. Even if the lives of everyone in Kashmir are guided by you, I and my child will remain far away from your filthy politics. If there is even a trace of humanity in you, then please leave from here.” Pointing her finger and shouting toward the door of the chamber, Basundhara said, “Get out. May your inauspicious shadow never fall upon us again.”

Hearing Basundhara’s words, Didda was struck speechless. In that moment she could not understand what she should say, nor could she even rise to her feet. Bhalaga came from behind, firmly held Didda by both shoulders, lifted her up, and led her out of Abhimanyu’s palace. He did not mention this incident to anyone at all. Usually, in such situations, mothers-in-law complain to their sons, weeping and wailing, and have their daughters-in-law driven out. But after this incident, Didda confined herself to a single chamber for several days.

Many terrifying situations had come into her life before, and she had managed to emerge from all of them. So now she was preparing her mind to emerge from this dreadful humiliation as well. Bhalaga stayed with Didda all day long. He asked no questions, because he knew that at the right time Didda would speak of everything herself—this had happened many times before. When Abhimanyu came several times in between to inquire about his mother, Bhalaga told him, “Maharaj, the Queen Mother is occupied with extremely important matters. At this moment she cannot meet anyone.”

Abhimanyu could never fully understand his mother. At times she was a tender, protective mother; at other times she withdrew and became like the clan goddess Bhavani—untouchable, beyond reach.

At the news of Abhimanyu’s arrival, a storm surged through Didda’s chest. Bhalaga was her only support; he alone was truly her own. From the moment of her birth, it was he who had protected Didda. She said to Bhalaga, “Bhalaga! All my life I have done nothing but fulfill my duties. But in return, I have received nothing except hatred and neglect.”

Bhalaga understood Didda very well. Indeed, all her life she had…She had asked for nothing except love, yet neglect seemed to be her constant companion. To normalize the situation, he said, “Not everyone has the capacity to give. You are a goddess—that is why you possess that power. A goddess does not expect anything in return from anyone.”

Didda replied, “I never wanted to be a goddess. I am a human being made of flesh and blood. I wanted love. I wanted to live among people as one of them. But God did not allow that. Even the wife of my only son—the one whom I loved more than my own life—has hurled hatred at me.”

Bhalaga said, “You must continue to perform your duty. Are you expecting anything from ordinary people while you stand like a mountain among them? Look carefully—how small they are before you. It is not right to sit shut inside a room like this, wounded by their behavior. From tomorrow, begin attending the court again. Abhimanyu has ascended a new throne; it is not possible for him to rule alone. At the moment of his death, Maharaja Kshemagupta entrusted the responsibility of Kashmir into your hands. Therefore, honoring his last wish is your duty.”

Didda reflected silently. Indeed, honoring the Maharaja’s last wish was her duty. Through him she had received a beautiful family life, and above all, she had received Kashmir itself. To dishonor this responsibility would be wrong.

Thus time passed. Before long, Basundhara completed seven months of her pregnancy. Didda continued to attend the royal court every day, helping her son in matters of governance, and at the same time, even from a distance, she continued to fulfill her duties toward Basundhara. Didda forgave her, considering her childish. After all, Didda herself had once passed through this age; during pregnancy, neither body nor mind remains stable. At this time, one’s state of mind can change at every moment.

She arranged for a cook to be brought from Himabat to prepare food according to Basundhara’s taste. To keep Basundhara’s spirits uplifted, she arranged for Abhimanyu and Basundhara’s palace to be decorated daily with various beautiful flowers. Everything she did, she did in utmost secrecy, so that Basundhara would not realize that all this was being done at Didda’s instruction. In this matter, she spoke with her son Abhimanyu and… After discussing it with him, she told him that if Basundhara ever asked who was arranging all this, Abhimanyu should say that everything was being done on his orders, and that when the queens of Kashmir are pregnant, such arrangements are made for each and every one of them. Basundhara did not want the shadow of her mother-in-law to fall upon herself or her child, and so Didda continued to do everything from a distance.

When seven months were completed in this way, the time came for Queen Basundhara’s sādh ceremony. From afar, Didda began making all the arrangements for Basundhara’s craving ritual. The servants were instructed that under no circumstances should Basundhara learn that all this was being done at Didda’s command. Over the past few years, Didda had secured an important place in the hearts of the servants through her actions; therefore, they obeyed her blindly.

When preparations for Basundhara’s sādh-bhakṣaṇa were at their peak, one night Didda was sitting in the royal treasury, selecting jewelry to be presented to her daughter-in-law for the ceremony. The royal treasury was a place where not everyone was permitted to enter, but Bhalaga had permission, as he was the constant shadow-companion of Queen Mother Didda. In the dark treasury, by the light of oil lamps, as she selected ornaments, Didda sensed Bhalaga’s presence. Bhalaga had come and was standing in one corner. Without turning in that direction, Didda said, “Bhalaga, do you have something to say?”

In a very calm voice, Bhalaga replied, “From Himabat, King Adityaraj has sent an urgent message through a messenger.” Hearing that an urgent message had arrived from Himabat, Didda came out of the treasury and began walking toward her own quarters. Bhalaga hurried behind her and said, “Queen Mother, the messenger has gone to Maharaja Abhimanyu’s palace. You must go there and meet him.”

Hearing this, Didda stopped short. Such a thing had never happened before. Whenever a messenger arrived with news from anywhere, he would come directly to Didda’s quarters. But this was the first time it had happened otherwise. Understanding the state of Didda’s mind, Bhalaga said, “The messenger has been given those instructions. Do not be distressed.”

In a trembling voice, Didda said, “But Basundhara has forbidden me to go there. She has said that my inauspicious shadow must not fall upon her or her unborn child. Then how can I go there?”Bhalaga said, “You are going there for the sake of her father. If you do not go, it will be an insult to her father, and the effect of his anger will fall upon the unborn child and upon Abhimanyu as well. So come— I am with you.”

Abhimanyu’s palace was glittering with the light of lamps. Abhimanyu and his wife were seated side by side, and the messenger stood a little distance away, waiting for Didda. As soon as Abhimanyu saw Didda arrive, he stood up, and at that very moment Basundhara cast a sidelong glance at her. There was a letter in Abhimanyu’s hand, and Didda understood that the messenger had not come there solely for her. Seeing Didda, the messenger bowed his head in respect and placed a letter in her hand.

Didda said, “Messenger, you are weary from your long journey. Take some food and rest here. At dawn tomorrow I will send my reply through you.” After the messenger left, Didda began to read the letter. In Abhimanyu’s palace, no one asked her to take a seat.

None of this behavior had any effect on Didda’s mind. She believed that this family, bestowed upon her by her husband, was her own; therefore, everyone here was her own, and no one’s conduct could affect her anymore.

From the letter she learned that Adityaraj, the ruler of Himabat, was preparing to attack Tibet. After finishing the letter, Didda looked at Abhimanyu and said, “My son, I trust you know very well that Adityaraj is about to attack Tibet, and for this reason he has sought Kashmir’s help.”

Abhimanyu nodded in agreement and said, “Yes, Mother, I know everything. But Tibet is a friendly state of Kashmir. How can it be possible for us to oppose it?”

Didda’s face and eyes hardened. She said, “No that can never be possible. Kashmir is bound to Tibet in a cultural and spiritual bond. Under no circumstances can Kashmir provide military assistance to Himabat in this matter. This is my final word.”

As soon as Didda finished speaking, Basundhara shouted. She said, “Who are you? You are no one to make decisions. I, Queen Basundhara of Kashmir, declare that Kashmir will provide every kind of military assistance to Himabat for the attack on Tibet.”

Abhimanyu could not possibly accept such a grave insult to his mother in front of his eyes…

He could not. He said, “If there is anyone who is the Queen of Kashmir, then it is my mother, Queen Didda. She is the living embodiment of our clan deity, Mother Bhavani. The decision she has taken is absolutely right and is the correct decision for the welfare of Kashmir. There will be no further discussion.”

Hearing this, Basundhara cried out and, weeping bitterly, said, “Very well. If I am not the Queen of Kashmir, if my father has not even a shred of honor here, then it is not possible for me to observe the sādh-bhakṣaṇa either. Just as a poor woman gives birth to her child, I too will give birth in that same way.” Saying this, she began to walk toward her chamber, crying. After going a little way, she suddenly stopped and sat down.

Didda and Bhalaga saw that the entire floor was being flooded with red blood. Didda rushed forward and clasped Basundhara in her arms, while Bhalaga ran to summon the royal physician. As Basundhara screamed in pain and tried to free herself from Didda’s embrace, Didda told Abhimanyu to hold her. Then the maidservants came and took her to her bedchamber.

That night was a terrifying night in Didda’s life—perhaps no other night like it had ever come to her before. For the welfare of Kashmir, she had not wished to become the enemy of her friend Tibet. In her life, nothing was more important than Kashmir. Kashmir was her family—the family whose responsibility her husband had placed upon her. To her, that responsibility was like a blessing, one she had fulfilled to the point of forgetting her own personal desires. Before this responsibility, no member of her family held any value. Yet Abhimanyu’s unborn child was the heir to this kingdom, and under the mental pressure that had been placed upon Basundhara, what if some harm were to come to the child in her womb?

On one side of Didda’s palace, dense forests rose up along the mountain slopes. From within that forest, a wolf howled. Bhalaga was sitting some distance away. His shadow fell upon the wall, stretching longer and longer, and its dark imprint seemed to be reflected upon Didda’s mind. She said, “Bhalaga, how much more can I endure? I can go on no longer. There is no one anywhere. Fighting alone, again and again, I have grown utterly exhausted.”

Bhalaga fixed his steady gaze upon Didda and said, “There are many such people in this world…”

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, 

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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.