The Past Emperor and Me

Agra fort, The magnificient structure in red sandstone has seen many emperors and rulers in the past and was the main residence of the emperors of the Mughal Dynasty . I have longed to go there to witness and sense the history that I have only read in the history books.  I got the chance in last June . On a sunny afternoon, I  walked around the fort to feel the heartbeat of  history. Two hours at Taj Mahal and and an hour of walk  outside the fort drained me out .

I walked through the pillared corriders of Diwan-aam  and moved to the Diwan-E-Khaas, Jahangir's Palace and then to Sheesh Mahal . From there  I moved to the top of  Musamman Burj , the  octagonal tower built in white marble which  looked very distinct. I stood on the pavilion  which  led to the chamber, where the historians claim was the place emperor Shahjehan was kept in exile by his son Aurangazeb. The view of the Yamuna and Taj mahal from there was stunning and there was a gentle breeze fanning  my face.

As I sat and closed my eyes for a while, two men   in blue dress with swords hanging on the side of their dress woke me up and  informed me that Badshah, seated in the chamber was calling me. I was perplexed but I moved with them to the chamber.

My heart pounded as I saw the emperor Shahjahan seated on the bed in that small chamber. The  aroma of persian oud pierced my nose as I entered  the room .The emperor who  once ruled three- quarters of the subcontinent was confined to this small room by his son who was holding power at Delhi.  As I entered the chamber,  he pointed  his hand to sit in the chair by his bed.  He looked totally different from the pictures I have seen in the books and magazines.  Age had caught up, his skin was wrinkled and  the eyebrows were thick. He had a crown or a head cap as seen in books but his long white hairs were moving in the breeze from Yamuna. His  eyes were sunken and the sleep deficit was shown on his face . His face looked yellowish  and his untrimmed beard was looking haggered. There were food stains on his dress. As a dentist, I noticed his dentition and found his front teeth missing.
In a husky  voice he asked me “ Where do you come from?" I replied that I have come from Kerala.  He raised an eyebrow and said “ I have  heard about  your King Maveli, that he was a very just, wise,  judicious and extremely generous and greatly respected by his subjects”.  He paused for a while and said “ I always wanted to be a King  like  King Maveli". He smiled wryly and said “I failed miserably”

Then he asked me  about  Kerala. The malayalee  in me started to talk  about  picturesque landscapes, serene backwaters, swirling rivers, long shorelines, lush hill stations, exotic wildlife, rich cultural heritage,  Ayurvedic remedies , land reforms act,  the peoples movement, Kudumbasree , etc . Initially he showed some interest in my  talk but later he seemed disinterested when I started talking about the role of communist governments in Kerala. I realized that I  shouldn’t have spoken about communists as they are frowned upon by  monarchies all over the world.

His eyes was  looking across to the Taj where his wife was resting. I marveled at the good eyesight of the septuagenarian without glasses. I asked him how many years since he has been in exile. He replied, “I have lost count of the days, and months and years”.  There were tears in his eyes when he started to talk about his favorite wife  Mumtaz whom he loved the most among the 5 or 6 he had. He also spoke of his intimacy, deep affection, attention and favour which he had for Mumtaz . In nineteen years of their marriage, they had 14 children and it was after the birth of their  14th child  Mumtaz Mahal developed complications  and  succumbed to them at Behrampur and was buried at the banks of Tapti River.  He wiped the tears and said  “I  just wanted her to be near me. I didn’t bother about the time or distance from Behrampur to here.  I took her here in a golden casket ,travelling days and months to reach here”.  “My Mumtaz is there”  he said  pointing his finger to that grand mausoleum with tears flowing  from his eyes.

A middle aged lady , with the face half covered entered  to the room and said, “Abba, it is time for

your medications”. She kept the vessel on his lips and he sipped it slowly.  He said, “This is my dear daughter Jehanara, she  is the only one  taking care of me since  Mumtaz  left,  when everybody else have abandoned me and put me here. God has been very kind to me to return her after the fire accident which had almost taken her life. I had to bring healers from Persia to heal her wounds” .  I asked him about his son  Aurangazeb who has shifted his throne to Delhi. There was silence in the room and  after a while he said, “My son is  a fool” and continued with anger in his voice,  “I heard he is imposing Jaziya on Hindus and other non Muslims  in the kingdom. You know ,my grandfather  had abolished it long back  and my father and I have  ruled this kingdom without that tax on them.. Now this fool wants to divide the people' .  He paused for a while and said 'This Mughal Kingdom will not last long . My Son will be the last emperor of the Dynasty......  ” I could see the fire in his eyes as he spat out those words.

I heard the whistle of the guards indicating the  time to close the gates of fort, I got up from there and walked towards the gate ….