Free Nurjahan's Daughter by Tanushree Podder

her nights in Sher Afghan’s arms, but her heart remained with the prince. She pined for news of her lover but, sitting far away from the court, it was not often that she learnt of the goings on in the palace. Although her father tried to give her news of Prince Salim in his letters, he was afraid of them falling in the wrong hands, so he wrote about the family and made passing references to the happenings at the court. Over a period of time, they had developed their personal codes and Mirza Ghias Baig used these to convey news of the ongoing royal conflict to his daughter.
    From her father’s carefully worded letters, Meherunnisa learned that her beloved Salim continuously revolted against his father. Always an unruly and obstinate man, the prince was now exhibiting streaks of ruthlessness and cruelty. Impatient to wear the crown, the prince had already made up his mind to rise in rebellion against his ageing father.
    The stage for the revolt was set when the wilful prince set up his own empire at Allahabad and began holding court. He appropriated 30 lakhs of rupees from the treasury of Bihar, bestowed jagirs and titles on his supporters, gathered a force of 30,000 men and began running a parallel kingdom in defiance of the Mughal emperor.
    Sher Afghan, who had taken a violent dislike for the prince, also fed Meherunnisa with news about the errant prince. It gave him sadistic pleasure to belittle Salim, because he suspected that she still had feelings for the prince.
    ‘The history of Mughal rule has never seen a more perfidious prince. He is ready to stab the emperor in his eagerness to occupy the throne. One can well imagine the state of the empire if Salim were to wear the crown.’
    Meherunnisa refused to bite the bait although she wanted to rise in defence of the prince.
    ‘Can you imagine the extent of the prince’s wickedness?’ Sher Afghan commented one night, during dinner. Meherunnisa, careful not to show too much curiosity, lifted her brows quizzically. ‘He has taken to skinning people alive at the barest excuse.’
    Meherunnisa’s heart sank with despair with each news of Salim’s brutality. When had he changed into this brutal beast? Would Salim remember her when he sat on the throne? If he didn’t care about his father, would he bother about her? Would their paths ever cross again?
    From her father’s letters, Meherunnisa learnt that the old emperor was distraught at the thought of Salim’s misdeeds. His elder son, Prince Daniyal, was addicted to opium and remained sunk in a stupor most of the time. Rumours about his failing health abounded at Agra. Prince Murad, a slave of overindulgence, had also died in his prime, and now Prince Daniyal was following him to the grave. Only Salim–though not very restrained himself, when it came to liquor and drugs–remained in line for the throne. The aggrieved emperor cursed his fate and wondered if the glory of the Mughals was fated for obliteration after his death; he could not bear the thought of handing over the reins of the glorious Mughal empire to his whimsical son. Exasperated, Akbar began grooming Salim’s son, Khusrau, for the throne. Khusrau was intelligent, balanced and patient.
    If there was one person who had not lost faith in Salim, despite his waywardness, it was his stepmother and Akbar’s favourite wife, Salima Sultan Begum. Shocked at the thought that Salim’s defiance could rob him of his rightful inheritance of the throne, she intervened. The begum was determined to bring about a reconciliation between the ageing monarch and the recalcitrant prince. Undeterred by the distance, she travelled through rough terrain and brought Salim back to the royal court, after much persuasion. ‘Do you want to lose the throne to your son?’ she had asked, her words striking him like a blow. He decided to accompany her to Agra. The emperor had to be appeased at any cost.
    The emperor forgave the repentant prince and conferred the royal diadem on him.