zenana ladies continued crying the loudest, as if their own child or mother had been taken from them.
I don’t think I ever stopped crying. From the minute Ami died to now, I think I’d been crying all along, so much that it didn’t even seem abnormal anymore. My tears flowed down my cheeks like water flows down a snowy cliff on a warm day. I began to feel my throat closing, and I began gasping for air as the procession marched on.
“Begum Sahiba, take long deep breaths!” The zenana women tried to help me catch my breath. My cheekbones began to ache from weeping. Yet I felt the need to cry more. “My head is going to explode,” I said, gasping for air, my mouth wide open.
The slave girls, themselves weeping, tried to restrain me. “You must remain calm, Begum Sahiba. We can’t afford to lose you, too!”
Was I having a nightmare? This couldn’t be real. I started pounding my chest with my hands.
Wake up Jahanara! This isn’t real! This can’t be real! Your mother is fine. You’re having a nightmare. We’re still in Agra; we never left!
The Deccan, this jinxed Deccan, which many years ago took away my brothers from me and was the site of our exile, now had taken my mother. The maids grabbed hold of my hand.
“This is all my fault,” I cried. “I must have committed some offence; that’s why Allah took my Ami away. Forgive me, Ami!” The zenana women literally dragged me for the duration of the procession, begging me to control myself, though I continued to fall apart.
I somehow found myself finally at the burial site, a journey of several kos that seemed like it had taken no time at all. This waswhere I would say a final goodbye. The slaves began lowering Ami’s body into a shallow grave, and the mullah poured a fist of dirt on it.
“No, stop that!” I cried out, breaking free from the maids holding me back. “You can’t lower her in that grave. She can’t breathe in there. Take off that cloak! She’s fine!” I began hallucinating and then lost all sense of self.
The hakim stared back at me with pity in his eyes. “Hakim!” I cried, “I am the Begum Sahiba! I order you to open the cloak and stop this! I’ll have you crushed for insubordination!”
The hakim stared fixedly at me. “She must rest, Begum Sahiba,” he said calmly.
I continued to resist. “You all are committing sedition against the King!” I shouted. “You’re killing the queen, and you’ll burn in hell!”
I couldn’t see straight, the tears had blurred my vision so badly, I scarcely knew where I was. Blinded by my tears, weakened by my weeping and hurting from my sorrow, I suddenly realised I was making a spectacle of myself. Kandari put my head on her shoulders and led me to the side of the grave. I continued to weep as Ami’s body lay in the grave with its head pointing north and turned towards Kaaba, the shrine in Mecca that contained the legendary black stone given by the Angel Gabriel to Abraham.
Chanted the mullahs: “Say God is One! Say I seek protection of the Lord of Daybreak! Say, I seek the protection of the Lord of Men! Say God is One! Say I seek protection of the Lord of Daybreak! Say, I seek the protection of the Lord of Men…”
My vision went dark after that, and I can’t recall much of what happened the rest of that day. Different women counselled and nurtured me. I don’t recall eating or sleeping. It was as if the candles in a room had been extinguished and all that remained was sheer darkness. In such darkness, one often loses track of time. Such was the case with me.
The next several days continued in a haze of confusion and bewilderment. Though officially only 40 days of mourning were to follow, the actual melancholy of the empire would last much longer.No court events were held, no special food was made, and the immediate family members wandered around the fort like zombies themselves. It was as if everyone had lost a sense of purpose. A wet nurse took care of Ami’s newborn, named
I don’t think I ever stopped crying. From the minute Ami died to now, I think I’d been crying all along, so much that it didn’t even seem abnormal anymore. My tears flowed down my cheeks like water flows down a snowy cliff on a warm day. I began to feel my throat closing, and I began gasping for air as the procession marched on.
“Begum Sahiba, take long deep breaths!” The zenana women tried to help me catch my breath. My cheekbones began to ache from weeping. Yet I felt the need to cry more. “My head is going to explode,” I said, gasping for air, my mouth wide open.
The slave girls, themselves weeping, tried to restrain me. “You must remain calm, Begum Sahiba. We can’t afford to lose you, too!”
Was I having a nightmare? This couldn’t be real. I started pounding my chest with my hands.
Wake up Jahanara! This isn’t real! This can’t be real! Your mother is fine. You’re having a nightmare. We’re still in Agra; we never left!
The Deccan, this jinxed Deccan, which many years ago took away my brothers from me and was the site of our exile, now had taken my mother. The maids grabbed hold of my hand.
“This is all my fault,” I cried. “I must have committed some offence; that’s why Allah took my Ami away. Forgive me, Ami!” The zenana women literally dragged me for the duration of the procession, begging me to control myself, though I continued to fall apart.
I somehow found myself finally at the burial site, a journey of several kos that seemed like it had taken no time at all. This waswhere I would say a final goodbye. The slaves began lowering Ami’s body into a shallow grave, and the mullah poured a fist of dirt on it.
“No, stop that!” I cried out, breaking free from the maids holding me back. “You can’t lower her in that grave. She can’t breathe in there. Take off that cloak! She’s fine!” I began hallucinating and then lost all sense of self.
The hakim stared back at me with pity in his eyes. “Hakim!” I cried, “I am the Begum Sahiba! I order you to open the cloak and stop this! I’ll have you crushed for insubordination!”
The hakim stared fixedly at me. “She must rest, Begum Sahiba,” he said calmly.
I continued to resist. “You all are committing sedition against the King!” I shouted. “You’re killing the queen, and you’ll burn in hell!”
I couldn’t see straight, the tears had blurred my vision so badly, I scarcely knew where I was. Blinded by my tears, weakened by my weeping and hurting from my sorrow, I suddenly realised I was making a spectacle of myself. Kandari put my head on her shoulders and led me to the side of the grave. I continued to weep as Ami’s body lay in the grave with its head pointing north and turned towards Kaaba, the shrine in Mecca that contained the legendary black stone given by the Angel Gabriel to Abraham.
Chanted the mullahs: “Say God is One! Say I seek protection of the Lord of Daybreak! Say, I seek the protection of the Lord of Men! Say God is One! Say I seek protection of the Lord of Daybreak! Say, I seek the protection of the Lord of Men…”
My vision went dark after that, and I can’t recall much of what happened the rest of that day. Different women counselled and nurtured me. I don’t recall eating or sleeping. It was as if the candles in a room had been extinguished and all that remained was sheer darkness. In such darkness, one often loses track of time. Such was the case with me.
The next several days continued in a haze of confusion and bewilderment. Though officially only 40 days of mourning were to follow, the actual melancholy of the empire would last much longer.No court events were held, no special food was made, and the immediate family members wandered around the fort like zombies themselves. It was as if everyone had lost a sense of purpose. A wet nurse took care of Ami’s newborn, named
Similar Books
