Rai Pravin The Nightingale of Orchha

Rai Pravin 

The Nightingale of Orchha

       Dr. Ravindra Pastor

Introduction

After India gained independence, Bundelkhand suffered a profound injustice: it was cleaved into two, becoming a mere borderland straddling Madhya Pradesh and Uttar Pradesh. The heartland of India, once radiant with glory, was shattered, its magnificent heritage diminished.

How could such a fate befall a region whose history stretches back to the Vedic age, where Lord Rama, in the Treta Yuga, spent the greater part of his exile in tranquillity?

Should you inquire about Bundelkhand in the capitals of these two states, you would likely find few who could offer an accurate description of the region. This land, which played a pivotal role in shaping the nation’s destiny during the Mughal and British eras, was rendered insignificant.

Bundelkhand began to be recognised as one of the most impoverished and backwards regions of the country. Migration became the inexorable fate of its inhabitants. In the searing heat of summer, fields lay barren, homes stood empty, and even wells and ponds ran dry. With their pockets emptied, entire villages would embark on a desperate exodus in search of work, leaving behind only the elderly, young children, and emaciated animals. Drought became an enduring motif of this land.

Yet, beneath this veneer of hardship lie the enduring efforts that nurtured its rich history, vibrant culture, and diverse arts. The sheer depth of its cultural, literary, religious, and historical opulence can be glimpsed solely through the magnificent temples of Khajuraho.

From my student days until now, I have had the privilege of visiting Orchha countless times. There, every edifice whispers a tale, and every ruin holds a history. To acquaint the modern generation with this heritage, we must venture beyond the dry tomes of history. When the tales woven into the fabric of popular folklore are intertwined with historical, archaeological, religious, and cultural narratives, a different, more compelling facet emerges.

We have never truly cherished the legacy of our writers, artists, and creators with the same fervour we have bestowed upon the preservation of palaces. A vivid testament to this disparity lies in the contrasting states of Poet Keshav Das’s residence and Rai Pravin’s palace.

Keshav Das, a vanguard poet of the Ritikal period, endeavoured to elevate poetry from Sanskrit into the common tongue, but how truly successful was he? It was this very struggle that earned him the moniker ‘Ghost of Difficult Poetry.’ Nevertheless, his pioneering efforts unleashed a torrent of Shringar Ras (the aesthetic of love and beauty) poetry in Hindi literature, a slender stream that now flows as a mighty river. To compose verses imbued with Shringar Ras in that era demanded immense courage.

Today, it is rare to find a poet or a poetry gathering that achieves completeness without the inclusion of Shringar Ras poetry. The ‘Beti Bachao’ (Save the Daughter) campaign, in a sense, began in Keshav’s school, and the fact that artists like Rai Pravin, emerging from that very school, could spread their fame as far as Delhi is a matter of great distinction. The male psyche, alas, often dictates that when we face defeat in a contest of intellect, sagacity, courage, or knowledge against a woman, we launch a harsh assault on her character.

In my view, we subjected Rai Pravin to precisely such treatment. Unaware of the true meaning of ‘Gandharva Vivah’ (a marriage based on mutual love, often without formal rituals) or the esteemed position of ‘Raj Nartaki’ (royal dancer), we unthinkingly adorned her with a myriad of labels: courtesan, mistress, dancer, and more.

When we cast aspersions on someone’s character, we employ a dual standard: one for ourselves and another for others. If we choose to deem someone ill-reputed, we require no evidence; yet, if we deem someone virtuous, our minds demand a thousand proofs.

For the children of today, there remains no ideal man. In the age of social media, it seems ‘all are naked in the hammam’ (a Persian proverb implying everyone has flaws). Consequently, anti-heroes now hold greater appeal than traditional heroes.

Our present and future can only attain splendour when we regard our past as glorious. For yesterday gave birth to today, and from today, tomorrow shall be born.

If we do not take pride in ourselves, why should anyone else? Do not be humble, impoverished, or destitute. Your ancestors have bequeathed to you a rich heritage, which you must further adorn and nurture to pass on to the next generation, so they may take pride in you.

Therefore, as you immerse yourself in this narrative, rather than seeking mere facts and proofs, strive to comprehend it with empathy and feeling. It is an earnest plea to view it through the lens of the beliefs, traditions, and social and cultural perspectives of that particular epoch.

Hence, if you approach this without freeing yourself from preconceived notions and arrive at unwarranted judgments and conclusions, you will do injustice to the characters. Many beliefs that were accepted in that society are no longer acceptable in the same form today. Each period possesses its unique circumstances of time, place, and context, within which beliefs continuously evolve.

Based on my research, information available on the internet, and material published in newspapers, and by the demands of this story, the tapestry of Bundelkhand has been woven to offer a glimpse into its history, cultural landscape, and folk literature. This has been achieved by judiciously incorporating publicly available information and personal experiences from my time spent in Bundelkhand. This book attempts to seek answers to certain questions.

As for language and grammar, in my view, the origin of words and syntax matters less if they assist me in conveying the emotion I wish to impart to the reader. This is the fruit of my imagination, an attempt to comprehend that specific historical period.

So, my friends, it is imperative to view events from a fresh perspective. I sincerely hope this humble endeavour will transport you to a time when our society was, perhaps, more developed, prosperous, open-minded, and sensitive than it is today, instilling in you a profound sense of pride in your past. The number of books illuminating the history of Bundelkhand is exceedingly scarce. Today, with the surge in domestic and foreign tourists and a burgeoning interest in understanding Bundelkhand, it is a timely imperative to provide readers with the untold stories of this region in their true context.

This book would not have been possible without the unwavering support of Mohini. I hope to have your companionship on this journey. My heartfelt gratitude extends to all those who, directly or indirectly, assisted in the writing of this book. 

Dr. Ravindra Pastor

Rai Pravin- The Nightingale of Orchha

The Wanderer

I’m Anand Mishra, the youngest son of the Mishra household. Within my family, I was often dubbed the “defective piece.” My father, bless his heart, spent half his youth trying to mend me, but the outcome was always the same – a dog’s tail, stubbornly crooked. As I mused upon my nature, my thoughts drifted to Narayan and Sudha Murthy.

My ideal man is Narayan Murthy, yes, you’ve got it right, the Infosys visionary. The father-in-law of Britain’s former Prime Minister. What an extraordinary character! They say that once, with his backpack slung over his shoulders, he set off on a tour of Europe. He had no money, but the passion to travel burned bright within him. And so, while aimlessly wandering, the idea for Infosys sparked in his mind.

It’s often said that money floats in the air; you just need a “net” to catch it. So, he wove that net, borrowing ten thousand rupees from his wife. Looking at Narayan Murthy, you might never guess that he, too, was once ensnared by love.

Their love story is nothing short of a cinematic epic. Narayan Murthy and his wife, Sudha Murthy, began their romance in Pune. When Narayan Murthy took Sudha on dates, it was often Sudha who settled the bill. What a girlfriend! Because at that time, Murthy seldom had much money. One day, Narayan Murthy finally confessed his feelings to Sudha in true movie style.

He said, “I’m five feet four inches tall. I come from a middle-class family. I can never be rich in my life. You’re clever, will you marry me?”

And Sudha Ben was no less! Convincing her family, she said, “Yes.”

Sudha Murthy’s story of landing a job at Telco is quite famous. Sudha Murthy herself recounted all these details in an interview.

Sudha explained, “I was pursuing my M.Tech at the Tata Institute in Bangalore. I was the only girl in my class. I had done my BE. That year, I was the only girl in the entire university; all the rest were boys. I was getting scholarships to do a PhD in America. As I was returning to my hostel, I saw an advertisement on the notice board. Telco was looking for engineers in Pune and Jamshedpur, but at the bottom, it read:

’Ladies Students Need Not Apply.’ It was a disclaimer, just like a cigarette packet warns that smoking is injurious to health.”

“I was furious. I was twenty-two then. Anger came more easily back then, not so much now. After reading that notice, I went to my hostel and got a postcard. I discussed it with my friends. J.R.D. Tata used to visit our institute every year. I would watch him from a distance.”

“We were students. We came from middle-class backgrounds. We didn’t dare to go up to such important people and talk to them. And J.R.D. Tata was very handsome.”

The Indian Institute of Science was established before independence through the combined efforts of Jamsetji Nusserwanji Tata, the Government of India, and the Mysore Royal Family. Tata conceived this idea and played a significant role in its early development, inspired by his discussions with Swami Vivekananda.

I wrote a letter – “Sir J.R.D. Tata, your group started when the country was not yet independent. Your group works in chemicals, locomotives, and the iron and steel industry. You always think ahead of your time. And in society, both women and men are equal. If you are not giving women a chance, you are depriving them of opportunities.

This means your country won’t be able to progress. If women don’t get education, if they don’t get job opportunities, then such a country and such a society can never rise. It’s your company’s fault that you’re not giving women opportunities. That’s what I wrote.”

“But I didn’t know his address. We were from Hubli. In those days, there was no internet. Then I thought, ‘Who wrote this? Ladies Student Need Not Apply… Telco company, right? Okay, so I just wrote ‘J.R.D. Tata, Telco Bombay...’ and posted the postcard.”

“J.R.D. was a very big personality. He received that postcard. After reading it, he got angry. He called his staff and said, ‘A girl is asking this, and it is an injustice. She should be given a chance. If she doesn’t do well, we will fail her.’ At that time, I was in the ladies’ hostel. There were no phones there, because girls used to call boys. But you can still write letters without a telephone, right?”

“Anyway, we received a telegram. ‘Please attend Telco final interview in Pune at our expense, First Class train ticket.’ At that time, there was no plane service between Pune and Bangalore. My friends, all pursuing PhDs, told me to go. ‘Sarees are very good in Pune,’ they said. They pooled thirty rupees and gifted me a saree.”

“I wore the saree and went there. I am technically very, very good. I answered all the technical questions.”

Then I asked, “Why are you not taking women?”

To this, he replied, “Child, please understand, you are a very good engineer, but we have one plant in Jamshedpur and one in Pune. Not a single girl has joined them yet. Work happens in shifts. You have to work with men, and you would be alone. Otherwise, you can work equally well in R&D or for a PhD.”

“I told him that my maternal grandfather was a history teacher. He used to say that a journey of ten thousand steps always begins with a single step. So, we told him that if you kept thinking this way, girls would never be able to come forward in this world. One day or another, they will have to come forward, and you should start this.”

“Then I got the job. I was quite friendly with my father. I told my dad that I had written such a letter and got a job this way.”

My father asked, “Will you take this job?”

I said, “I won’t. I’ll go to America for my PhD.”

My father asked, “Then why did you write that letter?”

I said, “I wrote it to show them that ladies won’t stay silent. I wrote it to show that girls are intelligent too.”

“But my father said it was wrong. When you started this and demanded equality, you should have taken the job.”

“My father gave me excellent advice: ‘You should walk the talk in your life.’ Meaning, do what you say.”

“I thought for two or three days, then tore up my American scholarship and admission letters, and joined Telco. I was the first woman engineer in the Tata Group.”

These six friends – Narayan Murthy, Nandan Nilekani, S. Gopalakrishnan, S. D. Shibulal, K. Dinesh, and Ashok Arora – met and launched Patni Computers. This was in 1981.

These six individuals from Pune pooled two hundred and fifty dollars and built Infosys, a leading Indian multinational company providing business consulting, information technology, and outsourcing services.

Narayan Murthy states, “In our journey over these years, we have spearheaded significant transformations that have made India a global hub for software service talent. We pioneered the global delivery model and created India’s first IT company to be listed on NASDAQ. Our employee stock option program gave birth to some of India’s first salaried millionaires.”

Anand Mishra mused, “And I am one of them. Blessed are they! May God bless them. Once, an Indian Prime Minister said that ‘money doesn’t grow on trees,’ but that’s wrong. Money also grows in the air. That’s why today, Infosys is the country’s second-largest IT company. This is India’s soft power.”

“I am a person of the ‘work from anywhere’ culture. I joined the company with an IIT degree in Computer Science. Campus selection – a shortcut to life. No exams, no rote learning, no UPSC-like exams, which continue unchanged from the British era even today. And the salary! Well, what can I say! So, pure joy. Travel extensively, have fun, and work hard.”

A Chinese proverb says, “A journey of a thousand miles is better than reading a thousand books.” Travelling offers many benefits, such as stress reduction, increased happiness, improved physical and mental health, personal growth, broadened perspectives, learning new skills, and strengthening relationships.

Mishra—” I take one solo long trip and two short trips every year. I haven’t been married, so there’s no one to stop or question me. My father also accepted it, and I’ve decided to live life on my terms. I am a born ‘Generation Z. ‘“

“Due to growing up in a technologically advanced world, ‘Generation Z’ is often called ‘Digital Natives.’ When my salary isn’t quite enough, I sometimes ‘moonlight.’ Oh, you don’t understand what moonlighting means?”

“No worries, it’s the new normal of our time. It simply means a second job, often without the knowledge of your primary employer. It’s essentially a ‘side hustle or gig’ in addition to your main employment. This practice has become more prevalent in the ‘gig economy,’ where individuals take on freelance, part-time, or contract work to boost their income or pursue personal interests.”

“I know you haven’t even heard the term ‘gig economy.’ It’s an economy where short-term or temporary workers are employed. This means, if there’s a need, hire employees; if there’s no need, let them go. In other words, ‘quick hire and quick fire.’ This world belongs to selfish people.”

Anand had travelled to many places in India so far, but Bundelkhand was a first. It’s not a very popular destination for tourists. There isn’t much about it on social media or in films. The government isn’t doing much for Bundelkhand’s tourist destinations either.

Sometimes, Hindi cinema leaves a deep impression. So, it happened that Anand was watching the movie ‘Bajirao Mastani’ with his new friend. While Bundelkhand isn’t explicitly mentioned in the film, Bajirao’s Mastani was the daughter of Bundelkhand’s King Chhatrasal. The film ‘Bajirao Mastani’ is based on the relationship between Peshwa Bajirao I and Mastani. After watching this film, Anand’s friend asked him about the history of Bundelkhand, and Anand didn’t know. Coming home, Anand searched online and read about Chhatrasal of Bundelkhand.

Chhatrasal was a king of Bundelkhand who revolted against the Mughals. When Mughal emperor Aurangzeb had Chhatrasal’s father, Champat Rai, assassinated, Chhatrasal was only twelve years old.

It was a very difficult time for a young boy, as his mother, Lal Kunwar, performed Sati with her husband. The young Chhatrasal was then taken under the wing of Mirza Raja Jai Singh. Upon growing older, he was enlisted in the Mughal army. He was sent to the Deccan to fight against the Maratha hero Chhatrapati Shivaji. Chhatrasal always regretted having to fight Chhatrapati Shivaji in the army of his father’s murderer. For his bravery, he was awarded the title of ‘Mansab’.

He left the Mughal army and went to meet Shivaji Maharaj at Raigad Fort. He hoped to work in the Maratha army, but Shivaji Maharaj advised him to return to Bundelkhand and fight against the Mughals. While other Rajput kings and princes of Bundelkhand had sided with the Mughals, Champat Rai and his son Chhatrasal always waged guerrilla warfare against them. When Chhatrasal turned twenty-two, he began his guerrilla warfare against the Mughals with only five horsemen and twenty-five soldiers. A folk poet wrote about him:

“Taalan mein Bhimtaal aur sab talaiyaan, 

Rajan mein Chhatrasal aur sab rajaaiyaan.”

“Among lakes, there is Bhimtal, and all others are mere ponds; Among kings, there is Chhatrasal, and all others are mere kings.”

Chhatrasal defeated the Gond Subedar of Panna and began his war against Aurangzeb from the forests of Panna. Diamonds are found in Panna. A legend regarding it states:

“Chhate tere raj mai, dhak dhak dharati hoy,

Jit jit dhoda pad dare, tin tin heera hoy.”

“O Chhatta, in your reign, the earth trembles with excitement; Wherever the horse’s hoof falls, there are diamonds.”

From here, he attacked the Mughal forts of Gwalior, Kalpi, and Kalinjar. Aurangzeb ordered his Allahabad governor, Khan Muhammad Bangash, to attack.

When Muhammad Bangash attacked Chhatrasal, the eighty-year-old Rajput king Chhatrasal was surrounded by the Mughals. With no hope from other Rajput kings, the sole sun of hope was Bajirao Peshwa I. Chhatrasal sought help from Bajirao and sent him this couplet:

“Jo gati graah Gajendra ki, so gati bhayi hai aaj. 

Baaji jaat Bundel ki, rakho Baaji laaj.”

“The fate of the elephant caught by the crocodile, that is my fate today. The honour of Bundelas is at stake, Bajirao, save it.”

This means that just as Lord Vishnu swiftly came to save Gajendra (the elephant) from the clutches of the crocodile, so too is Bajirao implored to protect the Bundelas. This couplet is inspired by the mythological tale of Gajendra-Moksha. According to the story, an elephant, Gajendra, is caught by a crocodile in the water.

He prays to Lord Vishnu, and Lord Vishnu saves him from the crocodile. Bajirao promptly assisted in protecting the Bundelas, just as Lord Vishnu protected Gajendra.

When the letter was given to Bajirao Peshwa, he was eating. His wife said, “At least finish your meal.” Bajirao then replied, “If I am delayed in reaching, history will record that a Kshatriya Rajput sought help, and a Brahmin continued to eat.”

Saying this, Bajirao left his food plate and rushed with his army to help King Chhatrasal with lightning speed. Bajirao covered a distance of ten days in just forty-eight hours with only five hundred horses, without stopping, without tiring. The Brahmin warrior Bajirao came to Bundelkhand, beheaded Bangash Khan, and when he presented himself before the Rajput King Chhatrasal, in gratitude, Chhatrasal offered Bajirao his daughter Mastani in marriage and a portion of his kingdom.

Two compositions are famous by the name “Chhatrasal”: “Chhatrasal Dashak” and “Chhatraprakash”. “Chhatrasal Dashak” is a work by Bhushan, and “Chhatraprakash” is by Lal Kavi. They wrote:

“Maharaja adhipati bhaye, Maharaja Chhatrasal. 

Rajan mein Raja bhaye, asuran kere kaal.”

“He became the supreme sovereign, Maharaja Chhatrasal; Among kings, he became the king, and for demons, he was death.”

Now, Anand’s desire to know more about Bundelkhand grew, so he planned his next trip to Bundelkhand – a solo bicycle trip to Orchha.

For accommodation during the trip, he booked a certified village farm located eleven kilometres from Jhansi railway station. It offered garden views, free Wi-Fi, private parking, a lounge area, laundry, ironing services, meals, daily housekeeping, an electric kettle, a kitchen, bicycle rentals, and a doctor on call.

This village farm is run by the Sanjay Pachauri couple. Both are nature and animal lovers and are constantly working towards a better environment where humans and animals can live in harmony and peace. Sanjay Pachauri is also a poet, singer, and writer, and he has written some songs for Bollywood. Anand read this description about the Pachauri couple online.

Anand firmly believes that environmental protection can be achieved through the ‘Panch-J’ (five-J’s) principle. Instead of considering humans as the centre of the economy, nature should be the focus, and an economy based on maintaining balance between Jal (water), Jungle (forest), Zamin (land), Janwar (animals), and Jan (people) should be developed. Only then can a stable, balanced ‘Sarva Jana Hitaya Sarva Jana Sukhaya’ (for the welfare and happiness of all) global economy be built.

Anand slowly began to read about Orchha online, so he could know what to see there, its culture, cuisine, and what to keep in mind while travelling.

Orchha, a forgotten town in Madhya Pradesh, India, is often described by tourists online and on social media as a “hidden gem” and a “must-visit” place, especially for its rich historical sites and unique architectural style. It’s a slumbering town, a blend of tranquil atmosphere and religious and cultural attractions.

Orchha’s location on an island formed by the Betwa and Jamni rivers adds to its charm, offering picturesque views from boat rides. Anand set himself the challenge of this treasure hunt and arrived.

Anand’s ticket from Delhi by Shatabdi was booked. The train departed Delhi punctually at 6 AM. The Shatabdi is a superfast train with chair cars. Newspapers, a water bottle, breakfast, and a vegetarian lunch were served on the train. He enjoyed an excellent view outside from the large glass windows, as Anand’s seat was by the window. Anand drew back the curtain.

As the train left Delhi, it was nothing but fields. The crops swayed. It was dawn, and the sun was rising. The sky was filled with crimson. Flocks of birds soared in the sky. Farmer families were working in the fields. In India, it’s common to see bullock carts and luxury cars moving together on the road.

As the train passed through each city, a brief announcement was made in Hindi and English about that city. The streets of the cities were bustling with crowds. Most of the passengers on this train were tourists. Seeing tourists of every colour and size on the Shatabdi made it seem how diverse the world is. The train arrived in Jhansi punctually at 3 PM.

Sanjay had sent the farm’s location on Google Maps. Anand took a taxi and reached the farm by evening. Sanjay was there. A poem I had read in Rahul Sankrityayan’s book came to my mind:

“Sair kar duniya ki ghafil zindagani phir kahaan, 

Zindagi gar kuch rahi toh ye jawani phir kahaan?”

“Wander the world, O heedless one, for where will life be again? If life remains, where will this youth be again?”

This became Anand’s motto, reflecting a philosophy of life dedicated to travel and the pursuit of knowledge. Anand wishes to become a great wanderer, like Sankrityayan himself.

The Harbolas

As evening descended, Anand sat alone. Presently, Sanjay joined him, and Anand found his company pleasant. Sanjay inquired of Anand, “Why do you travel?”

Anand explained that once, a profound restlessness plagued him. Sleep evaded him, and thoughts raced relentlessly through his mind. Following a friend’s counsel, he sought out a psychologist known to him. The doctor explained that when thoughts ceaselessly gallop through the mind, it is not merely stress but anxiety.

Stress emanates from life’s circumstances, while anxiety springs from thoughts. Both share similar symptoms, making it difficult for people to differentiate. Stress is temporary, but when thoughts spiral beyond control, mental health can deteriorate. Overwork, sudden responsibilities, or looming deadlines induce stress.

This manifested as irritability, anger, and sadness. His heart would race, and his muscles would tense. When his body entered ‘fight or flight’ mode, elevating cortisol and adrenaline, the psychologist recommended travel. Since then, wandering has become an integral part of his life.

The conversation, beginning with personal reflections, swiftly turned to the heart of Bundelkhand.

Anand asked Sanjay, “With whom should I explore the town of Orchha?”

Sanjay replied, “If you wish to delve into its history, roam the town with a Harbola. They will tell you things that are neither in history books nor known to tourist guides.”

He then asked Anand, “Do you know about the ‘Bundele Harbolas’?”

Anand had barely shaken his head ‘no’ when Sanjay explained that ‘Bundele’ refers to the Bundela Rajputs, and ‘Harbolas’ signifies the soldiers of the vanguard, the haraval or hiraval, the military detachment that marched at the forefront of kings in the battlefield.

The lines from Subhadra Kumari Chauhan’s poem, ‘Jhansi ki Rani’, resonated in Anand’s mind:

“Bundeley Harbolon ke muh hamne suni kahani thi. 

Khoob ladi mardani woh to Jhansi wali rani thi.” 

“From the mouths of the Bundele Harbolas, we heard the tale. She fought fiercely, that brave queen of Jhansi.”

Anand recalled his sixth-grade Hindi textbook, picturing the queen mounted on a white steed, sword in hand, with a small child strapped to her back. He remembered his mother, as if he were that small child tied to her back.

Sanjay further elaborated, “Harbolas also means ‘those who wander from place to place’, narrating the glorious sagas of heroes and kings.”

Sanjay explained that Bundelkhand is an inexhaustible reservoir of folk tales, legends, and historical narratives that reflect its valiant past, deeply rooted traditions, and the challenges faced by its inhabitants.

These “Boliyan” – oral traditions, proverbs, and stories – are not mere entertainment. They are a vital thread in the cultural fabric that preserves history, imparts moral lessons, and glorifies heroes. These stories primarily recount the valorous deeds of Bundelkhand’s warriors.

Anand’s interest was piqued by Sanjay’s words. Anand asked him to share more about the heroes of Bundelkhand. Night was falling, and the chill in the air intensified.

Sanjay began, “The story of Alha and Udal is by far the most famous and widely prevalent oral epic in Bundelkhand, and indeed, in most parts of North India.”

According to popular belief, the Kauravas and Pandavas of the Mahabharata were reincarnated in Mahoba. The legend goes that after the Mahabharata war, the Pandavas told Krishna that they had won the war, but their desire to fight remained unfulfilled. In the war, only Bhima had slain Duryodhana and his hundred brothers. Arjuna had killed Karna and Bhishma Pitamah. The rest had not slain anyone. Then Krishna promised them that their desire to fight would be fulfilled in the Kali Yuga. This is why all of them were born in Mahoba in the Kali Yuga.

Anand exclaimed, “Oh! This is interesting! I hadn’t heard this before.”

Then, as Sanjay switched on the lights along the farm path, he continued the thrilling tale of Alha and Udal: “Alha and Udal were two great warrior brothers who served as generals in the army of King Parmal. They were renowned for their unparalleled bravery, loyalty, and martial prowess.”

“Bade ladaiya Mahoba waale, inki maar sahi na jae. Ek maare, dui mar jaave, teesra khauf khae mar jae.”

“The great warriors of Mahoba, their blows cannot be endured. One strikes, two die, the third dies of fear.”

The ‘Alha Khand,’ written by Jagannik, the court poet of King Parmal, describes the thrilling and heroic war deeds of the two brothers in fifty-two battles. Sanjay and Anand conversed, warming their hands by the bonfire.

The story begins with King Parmal of the Chandel dynasty in Mahoba. At this time, King Parmal had declared Mahoba as the capital of his kingdom, moving it from Kalinjar. Around the same time, five sons were born in King Parmal’s kingdom, who later came to be known as the ‘Panchveer’ (Five Warriors) of Mahoba.

Queen Parmal gave birth to Prince Brahmkumar. Meanwhile, a boy named Dheba was born in the house of King Parmal’s royal priest. This boy, in addition to being brave, was also knowledgeable in astrology. Dheba is defined by the lines:

“Meet vipatiya ke Dheba hai. Aiso meet milan ko naahi.”

“Dheba is a friend in adversity. Such a friend is hard to find.”

Meaning, Dheba is a friend in times of trouble, and friends like Dheba are not easily found.

Tilka Rani was the sister of Queen Malhana, King Parmal of Mahoba’s wife. She was also known as Devla. Tilka gives birth to a son named Malkhan. It is said that Malkhan’s body was as hard as a thunderbolt, and in battle, he would fight by planting his feet firmly. About Malkhan, it is said:

“Paon pichhadi dain na jaane, jangha taik lade Malkhan.”

“He knows not to retreat. Malkhan fights by digging in his heels.”

Dakshraj and Bachhraj were the father and uncle of Alha and Udal. They were brave warriors of the Banafar clan of Bundelkhand, serving as generals in King Parmal’s court. They belonged to the Banafar clan, which is a Chandravanshi Kshatriya lineage. Alha and Udal received their training in bravery and martial arts from their father and uncle.

These two brave warriors of Parmal’s army were very close friends. Devla was the wife of Commander Dakshraj. Devla gave birth to a son named Alha. After Alha’s birth, Devla became pregnant again. At the same time, King Jambe of Mandongarh (present-day Mandu, Dhar) attacked Mahoba.

In this war, King Jambe captured Dakshraj and Bachhraj. King Jambe killed them both and hung their heads on a banyan tree in Mandongarh. Then, a few months later, Udal was born. It is said that:

“Ja din janam bhava Oodal kai, dharti dhansi adhaai haath.”

“The day Udal was born, the earth sank two and a half cubits.”

Meaning, on the day Udal was born, the earth sank two and a half cubits.

Devla was not pleased with Udal’s birth, nor did she accept Udal as her son. That is why Udal was brought up by Parmal’s wife, Malhana.

“Dharma ki mata hai Malhane, jo Oodal ko liyo bachae.”

“Malhana is the mother of dharma, who saved Udal.”

King Parmal educated, nurtured, and provided weapons training to all five of these heroes together. As they grew older, tales of their bravery began to spread. One day, when Parmal was praising all the heroes, upon hearing Udal’s name, his maternal uncle Mahil disparaged Udal; he said:

“Baap ka bairi jo na maare, okar maans giddh na khae.”

“He who does not kill his father’s enemy, his flesh will not be eaten by vultures.”

Meaning, the flesh of one who does not slay his father’s enemy will not even be consumed by vultures.

If Udal is truly a brave warrior, then he should go to Mandongarh, bring back their hanging heads, and perform their last rites.

At that moment, Udal arrived there and asked the Maharaj, “Maharaj, whose heads are hanging, and where?”

King Parmal tried to deflect the matter, but Mahil told Udal that the head of one of Udal’s ancestors was hanging in Mandongarh. Then Mahil said that “Udal would learn the full truth from his mother, Devla.”

Udal, without wasting a moment, went to his mother Devla. After much questioning from Udal, Devla revealed to him:

“Tangi khupadiya baap chacha ki, Mandogarh bargad ki daar.

Aadhi ratiya ki bela mein, khopdi kahe pukar-pukar.”

“The skulls of father and uncle hang on the branch of the banyan in Mandongarh. In the dead of night, the skulls cry out, calling loudly.”

Udal learned the truth: his father and uncle’s heads were hanging in Mandongarh. He wished to go and fight King Jambe of Mandongarh, after receiving the blessings of his mother Devla and his foster mother Malhana. King Parmal told him that breaching Mandongarh was not easy, and he was too young.

Udal replied to King Parmal that a Kshatriya’s life should not be too long either. Udal declared:

“Baaraah baras lau kookar jeevai, 

Solah lau jiyai siyaar. 

Baras athaarah Kshatri jeevai, 

aage jeevai ko dhikkaar.”

“A dog lives for twelve years, a jackal for sixteen. A Kshatriya lives for eighteen years; after that, life is a curse.”

Hearing this, King Parmal blessed him, saying, ‘If you use wisdom along with valour in battle, your victory is certain.’

On that very day, King Parmal declared Alha as the commander of Mahoba and then gave the five heroes five horses. With that, the army of Mahoba set off towards Mandongarh.

Anand asked Sanjay where Mandongarh was.

Sanjay explained that present-day Mandu in the Dhar district of Madhya Pradesh was Mandongarh.

In Mandongarh, Alha and Udal battled Kalingar, the son of King Jambe. King Jambe’s son Kalingar threw dust in Alha’s eyes and struck directly at Udal. At that moment, Udal’s horse changed its pace and saved Udal’s life. Kalingar’s spear plunged into the earth.

“Gaj bhar dharti cheerat-phaarat, bhaala dharti gaya samaay.

Dhanya-dhanya hai ghoṛ Baidula, jo swaami ko liyo bachaay.”

“Tearing and splitting a cubit of earth, the spear plunged into the ground. Blessed, blessed be the horse Baidula, who saved his master’s life.”

After this, Udal fell upon Kalingar, declaring:

“Pahli vaani mein bolat nahin, dooji mein karte nahin raar.

Aur teeji vaani mein chhodat nahin, munh mein thoons dei talvaar.”

“In the first warning, I do not speak; in the second, I do not quarrel. And in the third warning, I do not spare, I thrust the sword into the mouth.”

In Udal’s first blow, Kalingar was wounded and fled the battlefield. After this, a duel began between Udal and Kalingar’s brother Suraj:

“Bhuja bahaadur phadkan laage, naachan lage muchchh ke baal.

Kat-kat mund gire khetan mein, uth-uth rund kare takraar.”

“Brave arms began to twitch, moustaches began to dance. Heads fell one by one in the fields, headless trunks rose and fought.”

Kalingar again came to fight Udal. Kalingar grew tired striking at Udal, and seeing an opportunity, Udal severed Kalingar’s head from his body with his sword. The battle was decided at that very moment. As the sun set, both armies retreated to their camps.

The next morning, King Jambe tried to escape through a tunnel, but Udal was waiting for him at the tunnel’s exit. Without giving King Jambe any chance, he cut off his head. The war ended, and cries of victory for Mahoba’s army echoed all around.

Sanjay explained, “Often, the singing style of Alha, accompanied by a dholak and other instruments, is powerful, dramatic, and imbued with Veer Ras (the aesthetic of heroism). It is sung loudly, capable of captivating audiences for hours, especially during the monsoon season. It is a living history, constantly being transformed and given new meanings from contemporary contexts. New meanings are interwoven, making it highly relevant to local communities.”

Anand asked Sanjay, “Which other hero from Bundelkhand is famous?”

Sanjay replied, “Maharaja Chhatrasal is a towering figure in the folk tales and history of Bundelkhand, who fiercely resisted the Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb.”

Sanjay continued, “Chhatrasal was the son of Champat Rai, another Bundela chieftain who struggled against the Mughals. After the tragic demise of his parents, Chhatrasal was deeply inspired by the great Maratha warrior Chhatrapati Shivaji. He met Shivaji, who encouraged him to fight for the independence of his land.”

“Guerrilla warfare and resistance: Chhatrasal returned to Bundelkhand and organised a small army. He adopted guerrilla warfare tactics against the mighty Mughal forces, gradually expanding his territory and establishing his kingdom around Panna.”

Anand learned that Chhatrasal symbolizes freedom, courage, and the Bundeli spirit against oppressive rule. His stories highlight strategic brilliance, unwavering faith in his cause, and the importance of alliances.

Another heroic woman of Bundelkhand is Rani Lakshmibai of Jhansi. Her history is deeply intertwined with Bundelkhand, and the story of Rani Lakshmibai is paramount throughout the region.

Sanjay explained, “Rani Lakshmibai of Jhansi, born Manikarnika Tambe, married the King Gangadhar Rao of Jhansi.”

“After her husband’s death and the British Empire’s ‘Doctrine of Lapse,’ Rani Lakshmibai refused to surrender her kingdom. Her resistance during the First War of Indian Independence in 1857 made her an icon.”

Stories recall her extraordinary bravery, where she would ride into battle with her adopted son, Damodar Rao, tied to her back, leading her army, and fighting fierce battles against the British. The war ended with her heroic death near Gwalior.

Her famous declaration, “Main apni Jhansi nahi dungi” (I will not surrender my Jhansi), resonates deeply. Rani Lakshmibai is a symbol of courage, patriotism, and fierce resistance against foreign domination. Her legend is a powerful source of inspiration and national pride, especially for the women of Bundelkhand.

Sanjay further detailed that the songs sung by Harbolas include folk tales and moral stories. Beyond historical events, Bundelkhand has a rich tradition of everyday folk tales, often containing moral lessons. These stories depict social customs or are purely for entertainment. They feature talking animals, often with human qualities, teaching lessons about wisdom, cunning, greed, or kindness.

There are stories where common people outwit powerful or corrupt individuals with their intelligence and cleverness. Tales of supernatural beings are often told to entertain children or warn them about dangers. The purpose of these stories is not just entertainment, but also a way to teach children moral values and important life lessons. Thus, these narratives not only foster their imagination but also teach them how to choose between right and wrong.

Unique local renditions of the Ramayana epic, sometimes with regional variations and emphasising certain characters or episodes, reflect Bundeli cultural values.

These stories are often shared during evening gatherings in villages, typically at a central place called an ‘Athai’, where elders and the younger generation gain knowledge and entertainment. Songs and proverbs, folk songs and folk maxims – the spoken word is not the only medium. Songs and proverbs play a very significant role in Bundeli oral tradition.

Sanjay informed, “The songs sung by Harbolas include Phag, songs for the festivals of spring and Holi, which are joyful, romantic, and agrarian in theme, rhythmic and energetic. Rai, though a dance, often features accompanying songs that tell stories, sometimes devotional, sometimes romantic, sometimes lighthearted. Kajri, monsoon songs that express the relief and joy of rain, celebrating nature’s bounty. Dadre, short, lyrical songs often dealing with themes of love, longing, and domestic life.”

Sanjay concluded, “The songs sung by Harbolas are rich with Bundeli proverbs and idioms, encapsulating centuries of wisdom, observation, and experience about life, agriculture, human nature, and challenges. Villages have their local deities, gram devta (village deities) or revered saints, and stories of their miracles, blessings, or historical significance are a strong part of the local folklore.”

These “boliyan” are not static. They evolve with time, but their core message and character remain integral to Bundelkhand’s identity. They are a testament to the enduring power of oral tradition in a region that has witnessed centuries of change, conflict, and cultural exchange. Thanks to the Harbolas of Bundelkhand, this treasure remains preserved today. Harbolas narrate and demonstrate all this beautifully through singing, dancing, and dramatic performances.

In a village or town, amidst the populace, a Harbola sitting on a tree branch in the biting cold of winter would sing prayers to God in his melodious Bundeli, reciting heroic couplets and songs. Hearing his loud voice, people from all over the village would gather.

They would collect contributions and coax the Harbola, persuading him to come down from the tree. The Harbola would continue singing, and the people would keep listening. This entire process would take hours. Now, amidst changing environments and disappearing traditions, Harbolas are rarely seen.

Now, there are no trees amid populated areas for a Harbola to sit on, nor do people coax him down. The elders of the Harbola community still carry on this tradition.

“Where are the Harbolas from?” Anand asked curiously.

Sanjay replied, “This community primarily resides in the Bundelkhand region.”

The word “Harbola” likely refers to Bundeli folk songs, especially those dedicated to the great personality of Orchha, Hardaul. These songs, often sung using a tambura (a one-stringed instrument), describe the stories and legends related to Hardaul of Orchha. Hardaul was a prince of Orchha, known for his bravery and devotion.

He is a revered figure in Bundelkhand and is often depicted as a deity in local folklore. The songs often portray Hardaul’s life, his heroic deeds, and his tragic death.

Anand requested him to find a Harbola. Sanjay promised to accompany them in the morning to search for one. Anand ate his dinner and went to sleep early.

In the morning, Anand and Sanjay cycled towards the town. Sanjay knew a few people. On a Tuesday morning, sitting on the wall of Shri Lalji Maharaj’s Baghichi in Kharla Mohalla, Harbola Hukam Singh was singing in his melodious Bundeli:

“Mahadev Baba aise jo mile re,

Mahadev Baba bade rasiya re, bade rasiya re,

Rani Gaura se jode baithe gaanth re,

Mahadev Baba ho,

Mahadev Baba bade rasiya re,

Bade rasiya re, har saal kara raye apno byaav re,

Mahadev Baba ho.”

“Lord Mahadev, if only one could meet him. Lord Mahadev is a great lover a great lover He has tied a knot with Queen Gaura. Oh, Lord Mahadev, Lord Mahadev is a great lover. A great lover, he gets married every year. Oh, Lord Mahadev.”

Hukam Singh wore a white achkan and a white dhoti tucked up to his knees. A colourful turban was tied on his head in the Bundelkhandi style. A ektara instrument hung around his neck, and he held small brass cymbals in his hands.

Sanjay spoke with him. He agreed to accompany them. Sanjay returned home, and Anand and Hukam Singh both cycled to Orchha market.

We sat in the Blue Sky Restaurant. It is about a hundred meters from the Chaturbhuj and Ram Raja temples. This is not the only restaurant near the forts and temples; there are over fifty restaurants around the forts and temples.

Dokra metalwork, wrought iron artifacts, and other gifts such as souvenirs and showpieces are prominently found in the markets of Orchha. A clear glimpse of tribal culture and tradition can be seen in this art form.

Anand asked, “What is Dokra handicraft?”

Numerous handicraft shops are adorned nearby, featuring Dokra handicraft items, which are truly unique. This ancient tribal art form is now very popular in Orchha’s markets.

Hukam Singh explained, “This ancient tribal art form originated and developed from a tribal community in a remote village called Usha Dham in Adilabad district. And now it’s very popular in Orchha’s markets. Mostly replicas of animals and birds, and figures of gods and goddesses, are made. Orchha has two distinct markets: Village Market and Sipri Market. These markets showcase a variety of local handicrafts, souvenirs, and traditional items, providing visitors with an opportunity to find unique gifts or mementoes.”

Anand wanted to know, “What is the difference between classical music and folk music?”

Hukam Singh elaborated on folk art, “Classical music adheres to rules laid down in the Natyashastra and follows a guru-shishya tradition, known as a gharanas. Folk tradition, on the other hand, is the music of the people and has no strict rules. Folk songs are based on diverse themes and are full of musical rhythm. They are also set to beats so they can be dance-oriented. In Bundelkhand, folk songs related to every aspect of life, their singing methods, and the musical tunes of folk instruments are all distinct.”

Hukam Singh, in his Bundeli dialect, told Anand, “When there were no radios, TVs, films, or social media platforms, local communities invented their forms of entertainment since ancient times. Today, due to the internet, this diversity is disappearing. With the commercial aspect of art becoming dominant, the idea that ‘what sells is what gets made’ is turning passion into a profession. The meaning of creativity has changed.”

Anand observed the purely indigenous style of marketing, which the people of Orchha were proud of. And why shouldn’t they be? The shops thrive. You won’t find this anywhere abroad. Plenty of love, persuasion, and – the cheapest goods. So, what more could you ask for?

Harbola Hukam Singh explained, “Orchha attracts tourists from various countries. These include tourists from America, Britain, Canada, Australia, Germany, France, and other European countries. Additionally, tourists also come to Orchha from Southeast Asian countries like Thailand, China, Indonesia, and Malaysia. The city’s historical sites, temples, and natural beauty, along with its proximity to other popular destinations like Khajuraho, make it attractive to international tourists.”

Anand and Hukam Singh quickly became good friends. Anand asked questions, and Hukam Singh narrated stories. Sanjay had chosen the right person. Anand and Hukam Singh’s breakfast arrived.

Toriya

In the beginning, Anand thought that Hukum Singh suffered from the affliction of being overly talkative. But gradually, as their conversation deepened, Anand began to savour the stories and wisdom in his words. Only when one searches for oneself does one truly come to know their reality—a truth that can only be transformed by the self, not by others. Once again, Hukum Singh began his tale with a story.

Once upon a time, when kings ruled the land, each ruler fought battles for power and prestige. This is the tale of one such kingdom. King Madhukar Shah divided his dominion into eight fiefs, gifting each to one of his eight sons. The eldest, Indrajit, was initially granted the fief of Kachhua, and later, his brother Ram Singh bestowed upon him the throne of Orchha. Thus began the reign of King Indrajit Singh over Orchha.

Hukum Singh remarked that the tale of King Indrajit began most fascinatingly. The king vividly remembered his first visit to the village of Puniya. This village, nestled between two narrow valleys, was known as Barandhua.

Anand asked curiously, “What is a ‘Toriya’?”

Hukum Singh replied, “A ‘Toriya’ is a narrow strip of land between two small hills. The locals use this term for such terrain. The kings constructed earthen dams between these hills, providing water for drinking, animals, and daily chores. When water was abundant, it even irrigated the fields.”

It was the month of Kartik. Fields brimmed with ripe jowar and moong, while some swayed with deep-hued kodo crops. The contrast of green and dark hues painted the landscape in vibrant colours. Pools of water glistened here and there. Grass growing along the bunds made it difficult for horses to walk, yet the sight of fresh grass tempted them.

Barandhua had no more than forty households of various castes. Most homes were built of mud, roofed with clay tiles or thatch. Only the village headman had a house made of lime with a solid roof. Homes were adorned with geru art, smeared with mud and cow dung. Boundaries were marked with white lime, and some houses showcased colourful rangoli.

Lush neem, jamun, and mango trees lined the pathways. Outside the homes were tools of the farming life—ploughs, harrows, and bullock carts. Women fetched water from wells, children played in the lanes, and villagers warmed themselves in the sun, some smoking chillums.

King Indrajit often visited his villages to stay connected with his subjects. He was on such a journey, accompanied by servants and soldiers on horseback, when he suddenly tugged at his reins, halting his steed. None could understand the cause.

Ramdas, his trusted attendant, rushed forward.

From afar, a melodious folk song floated through the air:

“Kacchi eent Babul, deri na dhariyo,

O Beti na diyo pardes more Laal.

Laal ke pardesi more Laal.

Bhaiya Jeth Babul, deri na dhariyo,

O Beti na diyo pardes more Laal.

Beti na diyo pardes more Laal.”

“Unbaked brick, O father, don’t build the threshold yet.

O father, don’t send your daughter away to a distant land.

My beloved has become a foreigner, O my dear one.

Brother, elder brother, O father, don’t build the threshold yet.

O father, don’t send your daughter away to a distant land.

Don’t send your daughter away to a distant land.”

King Indrajit turned to Ramdas and asked, “Do you hear that voice?”

Ramdas, startled, replied, “Which voice, Your Majesty?”

“That song,” the king said, pointing in its direction.

They listened intently and realised it was a child singing a folk tune.

Hukum Singh explained that in Bundelkhand’s villages, it is customary for people to sing while working or resting, be it men or women. For every occasion, there is a song. Villages are full of singers, musicians, and storytellers—many of them unlettered yet masters of their art. Therefore, such singing often goes unnoticed, unless the king himself takes note.

As Hukum Singh reminisced, he shared how people once lived in joy and harmony. In earlier times, villagers never went to the police; disputes were rare and easily resolved. But in today’s world, conflicts are more common. Still, there existed a village in Bundelkhand where even the gravest disputes were settled locally at the ‘Athai’.

Anand asked, “What is an ‘Athai’?”

Hukum Singh remembered his grandfather’s village. In Bundelkhand, the village headman was called the ‘Lambardar’—a bridge between government and people. He managed land records, collected taxes, and mediated disputes with the patwari. Assisting him was the kotwar, the village watchman.

Every village had a raised platform called the ‘Athai’. It served as a gathering place for resolving disputes, hosting visiting officials, and conducting religious and cultural events—from storytelling to Ramayan recitations. No one walked past the Athai with shoes on, out of reverence. It was the village’s sacred court of justice.

No case from the village had reached the police in years. All were resolved at the Athai beneath a jamun tree, in front of the Lambardar’s house. The village culture was deeply self-reliant and resourceful.

They believed if one truly wished to see India’s art and culture, they must visit its villages. Each village holds a unique tale.

The king turned his horse toward the voice. As the entourage entered the village, the chief, who had just seen the king off, was called back by the watchman.

“Who is singing?” the king asked.

The chief listened and said, “Oh, that is Puniya, the blacksmith’s daughter.”

“Take me to her house,” the king commanded.

The chief pleaded, “Better to summon her here, sire.”

“No,” said the king, moving forward.

They reached a small mud hut with a thatched roof. A shed outside held blacksmithing tools. The girl stopped singing at the sound of hooves and stepped out. A dog barked wildly.

The chief called out sternly, “Who else is at home?”

The girl, around ten years old, replied shyly, “No one. I am alone.”

“Who was singing?” asked the king gently.

“I was,” she said, clutching the doorframe.

“Where is your father?”

“In the fields.”

“And your mother?”

“I have none,” she whispered.

The king stepped down from his horse. “Will you sing something for us?”

She hesitated, biting the edge of her veil.

With coaxing, she finally began a playful wedding song:

“Aagad dam, baagad dam,

Non zyada, mirchi kam.

Khao tum aur parse hum,

Ghar mein se nikre, ripat pare jeena pe,

Ja daar bagar gayi,

Dona kaaye na liyaay?

Jo bhaat bagar gayo,

Ja kadhi bagar gayi,

Dona kaaye na liyaay?”

“Front puff, back puff,

Too much salt, too little spice,

You eat, and we serve.

She stepped out of the house, slipped on the stairs,

There went the lentils spilling.

Why didn’t you bring a leaf-bowl?

The rice fell all over.

There went the curry too.

Why didn’t you bring a leaf-bowl?”

Everyone was charmed. The king laughed heartily. As did his companions. The girl blushed and lowered her gaze, tracing the earth with her toe.

The king offered her a silver coin. She hesitated, but the chief softly urged, “Take it, child. It is a gift from the king.”

She took it with trembling, soiled hands. The king told the chief, “Bring her father to the fort tomorrow.”

The entourage rode back, dust rising in their wake.

The festival of Diwali had just passed, and the villages were alive with the music and dance of ‘Mauniyas’—men in peacock-feathered attire who danced in silence for thirteen days, honouring vows for boons or thanksgiving. They dressed in traditional costumes, performed rhythmic dances, and sang songs of devotion and folklore.

This silent ritual echoed the pain of animals and the compassion of farmers. The dancers moved from village to village barefoot, performing with discipline and fervour, a tradition deeply embedded in Bundelkhand’s pastoral culture.

One singer began:

“Sada Bhawani daahini, sanmukh rahe Ganesh.

Teen dev raksha karen, Brahma, Vishnu, Mahesh.

Vrindavan basavo tajau, are haun lagi anreet.

Tanak dahi ke kaarane, bahiya gahat Aheer.”

“May Goddess Bhawani always stand to my right,
And Lord Ganesh faces me in front.
May the three gods protect me.
Brahma, Vishnu, and Mahesh (Shiva).

I would rather leave the sacred Vrindavan,
Oh! This injustice has begun.
Just for a bit of curd,
The Ahir (cowherd) grabs my arm!”

Drums roared, and the dance began.

Hukum Singh’s storytelling transported Anand to his grandmother’s village. He felt immersed in the vibrant soul of rural India. He compared it with the loneliness of urban life, where neighbours hardly know one another. Even joy is compartmentalised.

That night, Anand dined alone but wandered in thought. The face of the blacksmith’s daughter lingered in his mind.

Hukum Singh had said her name was Puniya. A girl known not just for her beauty, but her voice and mind. When the king later saw her at the forge, hammering iron alongside her father Shankar, he was struck.

She held the hammer in one hand, wiped sweat with the other, and looked sideways at the approaching horsemen. Sunlight caught the sweat on her brow, and she smiled instinctively.

To the king, she seemed like a goddess of natural grace. He was captivated. A couplet escaped his lips:

“Woh heran, aru woh hasan, woh madhuri muskan, 

Woh khechan masaan ki, hiye mein khatakat aan.”

“That glance, and that smile — that sweet, graceful grin.

And that pull from the cremation ground — it strikes the heart with a sting.”

King Indrajit was revered for wisdom, valour, and justice. But his heart had now fallen—not to a kingdom, but to a blacksmith’s daughter.

Puniya was not merely beautiful; she was brave and intelligent. She wrote, sang, and toiled at the forge without fear. Her confidence, even beside roaring flames, was unmatched.

Anand reflected on the ‘Gadiya Lohars,’ a nomadic community once loyal to Maharana Pratap. After Mewar fell to the Mughals, they vowed not to settle until it was free again. They still wander, crafting tools and weapons, honouring that ancient oath.

When India gained independence, even Nehru asked them to settle. But they did not.

Anand often wondered—if nature bestowed such radiant beauty on women, why this obsession with cosmetics? Marketing had distorted perceptions, causing many girls to suffer silently.

That night, the story stayed with him, as did the image of Puniya, a flame-lit face framed in smoke and steel.

Separation

The next morning, when Anand arrived at Blue Sky Restaurant at exactly seven, he found Hukum Singh already there, engaged in conversation with a few locals. After a courteous greeting, Anand ordered breakfast. Hukum Singh resumed his story.

When the king returned to the palace, he found himself distracted and restless. Courtiers spoke in the royal court, but all he could see was that one face. For the first time in his life, he was so deeply unsettled by a woman.

Over the next few days, King Indrajit made frequent visits to the settlement of Barandhua village, each time under a different pretence-sometimes to meet merchants, sometimes to inspect the quality of weapons-and always ended up at Shankar’s doorstep.

With great pride, Shankar displayed the weapons he had crafted, while Puniya, in the manner of an ideal daughter, welcomed the king graciously, honouring her father. Even from a young age, it was clear that Puniya was destined for more than the quiet life of a simple village girl.

Her voice was as sweet as the nectar of forest flowers, capable of enchanting even the birds in the trees. When she danced, her steps were as light as falling feathers, yet precise as the chisel of a sculptor. Her mind was a treasure of sharp and lyrical verses, flowing with the clarity of a mountain spring.

Yet, in Puniya’s eyes, there was no special fascination for the king. She was content with her ordinary life. She had never been in love-not even in her dreams. But the king’s heart began to burn with a strange ache.

The absence of his beloved began to take a psychological and physical toll on King Indrajit. This was beyond mere melancholy—he could no longer govern effectively. He was descending into a state of intense emotional crisis.

A deep sadness, a hollow emptiness, and a persistent sense of despair took root. The world seemed bland and joyless in her absence. A restless yearning grew for her presence, her touch, and her voice. It was a deep, painful feeling that manifested physically in his chest and gut. It was a phantom limb of an unfulfilled desire.

Anxiety about the future of their relationship and the growing duration of separation left him restless and irritable. Even amidst friends and family, King Indrajit Singh felt an unshakeable loneliness. Emotional disconnection prevailed despite physical company.

Listening to Hukum Singh’s deeply moving account, Anand was reminded of his first love.

Indrajit Singh was the king of Orchha. He had won great wars, but could not win a place in the heart of a blacksmith’s daughter. The king’s restlessness did not go unnoticed by a few close courtiers of the palace.

One day, his court poet, minister, and spiritual guide, Keshavdas, said to the king, “Your Majesty, I’ve noticed you’ve been unsettled lately. Is something troubling you?”

The king paused, smiled faintly, and said, “Sometimes a man longs for what is not his to claim.”

Keshavdas, an experienced man, read the king’s expressions and gently replied, “My lord, a king’s desires are not limited. There is nothing in this world beyond the reach of an emperor.”

These words gave voice to the emotions King Indrajit had struggled to name. That very night, he resolved—he would bring Puniya to Orchha.

By the time Hukum Singh reached this part of the tale, they had wandered in conversation to the front of Keshav Bhavan. Indrajit had fallen in love at first sight—an intense, immediate romantic pull, which he often expressed through his poems.

Hukum Singh explained that the king’s intense emotions mirrored those of genuine, deep, committed love. True love is marked by intimacy, commitment, and sustained passion—and with time, it had begun to grow. More than mere infatuation, it was a powerful emotional and physical response, creating a deep longing to know the other person intimately.

Alone in his chambers, King Indrajit would ask himself: If this is not love, then what is it?

Hukum Singh delved into the science of it. In love, the body releases dopamine—a feel-good neurotransmitter associated with pleasure and reward. It floods the brain with excitement, much like addictive substances.

Oxytocin, released over time, deepens attachment and bonding. It’s early release, even with a new person, fosters trust and closeness. Interestingly, serotonin levels drop in the early stages of intense attraction, fueling obsessive thoughts about the beloved.

Our brain judges attraction with astonishing speed-less than 0.13 seconds. This creates the ‘halo effect’-we start to perceive those we find physically attractive as kinder, more intelligent, more trustworthy. Initial impressions deepen swiftly.

Subconscious cues matter-facial symmetry, body scent (pheromones), even subtle nonverbal signals play a role in instant attraction. Anand had likely felt all this when he first fell in love.

Hukum Singh’s insights amazed Anand. He hadn’t expected such a scientific breakdown of love at first sight. Eventually, Anand discovered that Hukum Singh held a B.Sc. in Chemistry from Sagar University.

Keshavdas, the founding voice of the Ritikaal and great Bundeli poet, called ‘the ghost of difficult poetry,’ was stirred by Indrajit’s emotional turmoil.

As Anand and Hukum Singh wandered inside Keshav Bhavan, they imagined the poet sitting there, composing his verses. The neglected condition of the palace stirred Anand’s thoughts-when would we stop neglecting our artists and writers?

Artists and writers are the salt of society. If we don’t preserve this cultural heritage now, what will we leave for the next generation?

Will they forgive us for this negligence?

Keshav Bhavan, once the residence of the celebrated Ritikaal poet Acharya Keshavdas, still stands in Orchha. A small library now operates there. The structure is a blend of Hindu and Mughal architecture, with its arched entrance and three windows above welcoming visitors. Yet it cries for preservation.

As they exited the Bhavan, Hukum Singh resumed the story. For the king, this was not just about love—it was about power. Meanwhile, Puniya began to notice that the king’s gaze lingered longer than appropriate.

She considered confiding in her father but dismissed the thought as her imagination. Then one day, the king ordered his soldiers to summon Shankar to the palace.

When Shankar appeared before King Indrajit Singh, the king praised his craftsmanship and proposed he stay permanently in Orchha.

“Your skill is exceptional, Shankar. I want you to remain in Orchha and forge weapons exclusively for me. You’ll have every comfort-I will weigh you in gold,” the king said.

“Your Majesty, I do not work for money. My forge is like a temple to me. I cannot leave it,” Shankar replied with deep humility.

The king had not expected this answer. Though displeased, he showed no anger. Instead, he wondered if Shankar would not come to Orchha; would Puniya?

With his first plan foiled, the king sought counsel from his friend Keshav. Keshav advised him to appeal to a father’s love for his child.

“If you offer to sponsor her education at Phoolbagh’s academy under royal protection, highlighting how it would hone her talents, I believe Shankar will not refuse.”

No father would risk his daughter’s future for mere principles. The king hesitated-this felt morally grey. But when is the battle between heart and mind ever easy?

As Puniya grew older, Shankar’s anxieties multiplied. Daughters grow faster than their fathers expect. In rural Bundelkhand, a poor man with a beautiful, intelligent, unmarried daughter bears a thousand worries-social, economic, and cultural.

For Shankar, the greatest burden was the impending cost of dowry and wedding expenses. Despite being illegal, dowry remained entrenched in rural society. Parents were pressured to provide wealth, gold, and household items to the groom’s family.

A beautiful, intelligent daughter could increase demands, as suitors saw her qualities as justification for more dowry.

Beyond dowry, weddings themselves were costly-food, decor, gifts for relatives-all added up, pushing poor families into debt for years, even generations. Shankar had no savings, no assets to sell, only a little land to mortgage.

In Bundelkhand’s tightly-knit villages, marriage was a public affair affecting a family’s honour and standing. An unmarried daughter past a certain age was a source of shame.

“What will people say?”-This question tormented Shankar.

He feared gossip and social exclusion. Caste and community expectations weighed heavily. Intra-caste marriage was still a strict norm, and finding an economically stable, reasonable groom within the same caste was near impossible for the poor.

In a patriarchal society, daughters are seen as someone else’s property-meant to be married off. Their worth is tied to their marital status. This societal burden crushed Shankar.

As Puniya aged, pressure mounted. Shankar felt a heavy responsibility to secure her future. He worried he might fail her. Without a good marriage, her life could be miserable both socially and financially.

Puniya’s intelligence made finding a compatible groom even harder. In a traditional village, a bright girl struggled to find a partner who matched her mind or respected her ambitions. Worse, conservative families feared strong-willed brides.

Puniya wanted to study further. She’d told her father so many times.

Within days, the king sent a second proposal to Shankar. This time, it included a suggestion for Puniya:

“Your daughter is gifted. To develop her talents in writing, singing, and dance, arrangements can be made at Phoolbagh Academy under the care of Poet Keshav. She’ll be guided by experts. Also, I need a special sword, which can only be forged in the palace forge. You may craft it there.”

Shankar didn’t want to risk his daughter’s future. He too had once loved writing and music but knew that without royal patronage, artists couldn’t thrive. This could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her.

The proposal was too generous to reject. Hope stirred in the father’s heart.

Puniya’s mother had died giving birth to her. Shankar had raised her alone, both mother and father to her. He had educated her himself. When he shared the king’s offer, Puniya resisted at first-but she had no real interest in blacksmithing.

She helped her father only out of duty. Since childhood, she had longed to study. Eventually, she agreed to go to Orchha. Shankar did not think it wise to defy the king again. Together, they left for Orchha.

The tale was growing more gripping. Anand had not expected such a story when he first arrived. He now felt his decision to come had been the right one. He urged Hukum Singh to continue the story.

Storytelling

Hukum Singh’s storytelling style was exceptionally unique. Moreover, he was a learned and experienced bard. His delivery and expressions continually increased the charm of the tale. He continued:

The lofty walls of Orchha stood as obstacles in Puniya’s path, but her determination was stronger than those ramparts. She did not know that her life was about to change after this very day.

The next morning, Puniya was on her way to the palace with her father to meet the king. But her heart was troubled with inner conflict. She knew very well that the daughter of an ordinary blacksmith could never enter the royal palace. Yet the fear in her heart could not hold her back.

The daylight had become her guide. With her face veiled, Puniya reached the palace gates. Guards were posted heavily, their sharp eyes not letting any outsider through.

Her father slowed his pace, calmed his breath, and adjusted his veil. He approached the guard and said, “The king has summoned us. Please let us through to see him.”

The guard looked at them with suspicion. It was standard protocol that no stranger could enter directly, though the palace was always bustling with events and people coming and going.

“Who summoned you?” the guard asked.

“The king,” replied Shankar calmly.

At the mention of the king, the guards stiffened. They were the king’s most trusted men and could not disobey his orders.

“Wait here. I will go inquire,” said a sceptical guard.

Shankar warned, “By all means, ask. But if there’s delay in obeying the king’s orders, your head might roll.”

The guards grew uneasy. They whispered among themselves. One finally said, “Very well. But you may go only as far as the royal court. No further.”

Puniya stepped inside the palace for the first time. Silently, she prayed to Goddess Vindhyavasini. A new world unfolded before her: glittering chandeliers, marble walls, and hundreds of attendants rushing about.

Puniya’s eyes wandered. A soldier appeared and escorted them into the royal court. It was their first time there. Suddenly, a commotion began—the king, Indrajit Singh, was entering.

Through her veil, Puniya saw him, proud in royal attire, his face serene as though confident his desires would soon be fulfilled. Puniya clenched her fists. If she had to reach her goal, more risks lay ahead.

At the centre was the royal throne. On either side were rows of chairs for courtiers. The ceiling above bore intricate paintings. Sunlight streamed through skylights, filling the hall with a warm glow.

They were made to stand near the entrance. The king took his seat. A minister informed him of their arrival. They were brought before him.

Shankar bowed deeply. Puniya stood nervously, dishevelled. She stared at the king. Her heart raced, but her eyes were resolute.

None in the court imagined that a village blacksmith’s daughter had come to conquer Orchha. Her breath was rapid, but her eyes blazed with determination. She had to succeed—at any cost.

“I am a blacksmith’s daughter. I know how to wield both hammer and mind,” Puniya said to herself. She glanced around the chamber. Paintings adorned the walls. Weapons hung in places. Animal trophies—lion, tiger, deer heads—were displayed.

The king asked, “How old is your daughter?”

“My lord, I do not know exactly. But she was born in the year of the great drought, during the month of Chaitra,” said the blacksmith fearfully.

A minister calculated aloud, “That would make her fifteen years old, Your Majesty.”

“Who taught her to sing?”

“No one, sire. She just learned by listening at home,” said the father, now visibly anxious.

“Shankar, you are frightened,” observed the king.

“My lord, I am but a common man. I don’t deserve this audience,” Shankar replied humbly.

The king said softly, “Sometimes fate brings us not where we belong, but where we are needed.”

For the first time, Puniya looked into the king’s eyes. She felt as if she saw herself—alone, broken, yet alive. From that moment, an unspoken connection began to form between them.

“You shall reside in Orchha. All expenses—living, education, music lessons—will be provided. Your family will be given housing near the palace, and you will work in the royal armoury,” the king decreed.

Hukum Singh and Anand had by now walked from the palace grounds into the royal court chamber. Anand closed his eyes, imagining how this space must have once looked.

Walking and talking, they reached Phool Bagh. Hukum Singh pointed to ruins, saying this was where Puniya had once joined the royal school with her father. Renowned musicians from Gwalior, including Baijnath—better known as Baiju Bawra—had come to teach music.

Painters from Nathdwara came to teach art. Goswami Ji, founder of the Raas Mandali of Vrindavan, came personally to teach Kathak dance.

The school’s principal was none other than poet Keshav Das, a native of Orchha and a Jijhoutia Brahmin. His father was Kashinath. The royal court held their family in great esteem.

Keshav Das was poet, minister, and teacher to King Indrajit Singh. He had been gifted 21 villages by the king and lived a life of dignity and luxury. A scholar of Sanskrit, even his household servants spoke Sanskrit. Switching from Sanskrit to Hindi poetry felt demeaning to him. He once wrote:

"Bhaasha bol na jaanahiin, jinke kul ke daas.

Tin bhaasha kavita kari, Jadmati Keshav Das."

“They don’t even know how to speak properly. Yet I, Keshav Das, compose poetry in their tongue.”

He was sensitive and romantic. His major works include Rasikpriya, Kavipriya, Nakha-Shikh, Chhandmala, Ramchandrika, Veer Singh Dev Charit, Ratan Bawani, Vigyan Gita, and Jahangir Jaschandrika.

This school was a remarkable example of female education. In an era when educating girls was taboo, here young women mastered every art. Yet they never performed publicly.

This was Bundelkhand’s first girls’ school. Even royal women were taught dance only for their joy. The king ensured Puniya received training in all subjects. She and her father were settled near the palace’s furnace.

Shankar began forging swords. A highly skilled craftsman, he left early and returned late daily.

Soon, Puniya started attending the school at Phool Bagh. Poet Keshav Das tested her, heard her folk songs, and asked her to sing a ‘gari’. She sang with exuberant rhythm:

"Baari mein ke chaar bilaauta, do kaare do laal re" Do to saare ghoonghata kholein, do saare pachtaaen re. Baari... Do to saare galua kaaten, do saare pachtaaen re. Baari mein... Do to saare bahiya marodein, do saare pachtaaen re. Baari mein…”

“In the courtyard, there are four playful cats, two black, two red... Two pull back the veil, two regret it. Two slash the throat, two regret it. Two twist the arms, two regret it.”

The poet was thrilled. Puniya’s formal training began. Initially, she stayed with her father, but as he worked long hours, Keshav arranged for her to live at the school to maximise her practice time.

She studied diligently. The king would occasionally visit. They would exchange glances, then he would speak to Keshav and leave. But these silent feelings could not remain hidden for long.

The Bundelas ruled Bundelkhand for around two hundred years. The medieval town of Orchha, in Madhya Pradesh, was as beautiful as it was lonely. It remains today as it was when its people abandoned it. But why did they leave such a grand palace?

Was it a family feud? A curse by a tantric? A fallout with the Mughals or Marathas? Or domestic discord within the royal family?

The word “desolate” brings images of ruins. But Orchha is different. Deserted, yet not destroyed. Its walls still whisper tales of friendship, love, betrayal, and revenge.

The royal palace was begun by Maharaja Rudra Pratap Singh but wasn’t completed during his lifetime. His son Bhartichand built much of its outer structure. Eventually, Madhukar Shah completed it in 1531.

Inside, there are exquisite Bundeli paintings, including depictions of the Ramayana. Some show Lord Ram with a moustache, others are highly stylised. These murals seem alive. Music and dance also flourished in Orchha.

Locals believe Orchha’s decline began with internal conflict. Others say the fort wasn’t secure. Some blame taxes imposed by the Mughals and Marathas. People fled.

The thick forests once protected the royals, but eventually became a threat. Enemies could hide there too. The royal family moved to Tikamgarh, which was safer. Droughts and water shortages also struck.

As taxes grew, fear and poverty spread. People left in search of safety.

As Hukum Singh narrated, remnants of that era appeared on the walls—modern lovers scribbling names in foolish imitation. The palace’s ruined state showed its past grandeur. “Ruins whisper that once, greatness stood here.” Glory never lasts forever.

Orchha’s prosperity vanished when trade routes became unsafe. For security, future kings shifted the capital to Tikamgarh. Orchha became a ghost town. Courtiers, soldiers, and elites moved to Tikamgarh, Jhansi, and Datia. Silence remained. Crumbling buildings.

Greedy hands dug through chambers and walls in search of treasure. Smugglers desecrated priceless artefacts. Even worshipped idols were sold by the same hands that once prayed to them.

Hukum Singh sadly shared that the golden finial atop Orchha’s Ram Raja Temple was stolen. Weighing fifty kilograms, it was worth fifteen crores at the time. It had been placed there by the Bundela rulers 300 years ago.

Bundelkhand became a haven for idol smugglers. As Anand wandered the ruins, he felt transported to a time when humanity’s sensitivity had died. The sun was setting beyond the cenotaphs on the distant banks of the Betwa.

To lift the mood, Hukum Singh took Anand to dine at Jahangir Mahal Hotel in Orchha. He spoke about Bundelkhandi cuisine—dal bafla, similar to dal baati, but richer with ghee.

“I understand dal,” Anand said, “but what is baati?”

Hukum Singh explained, “Bafla or baati is made with wheat flour, a little gram flour, salt, carom seeds, and plenty of ghee. The dough is kneaded stiff, shaped into balls, boiled until they float, then baked over slow cow-dung fire until golden, and finally soaked in hot ghee.”

Dal is usually panchmel—a mix of five lentils: arhar, chana, moong, masoor, urad. They’re boiled with turmeric, salt, and spices. At the end, a tempering of ghee, asafoetida, cumin, garlic, onion, tomato, and red chilli is added. The hotel served a full platter with dal, bafla, fried vegetables, chutney, and buttermilk. It was unique and delicious.

Hardaul

On the fourth day, Anand and Hukum Singh met at Phoolbagh—just as spirited as always. Hukum Singh was present with his characteristic smile. He shared that when the influence of the Tomar dynasty waned in Gwalior, artists, writers, singers, dancers, poets, craftsmen, and scholars from various disciplines left Gwalior and took refuge in Orchha.

The Bundela kings were eager to carve their names in history. As a result, all these talents easily found royal patronage in Orchha. There was no shortage of wealth; the blessings of Goddess Lakshmi abounded. The king had this beautiful garden—Phoolbagh—constructed on the banks of the Betwa River. It also served as a centre for learning and training.

In the courtyard of the garden, a blind artist, holding an ektara, was singing his folk composition, swaying with joy. A large crowd of local and foreign visitors had gathered around him. Both of us stood there, listening intently.

“Gaura, saanchi, batao kaise karvao, Bhole Baba se viyao.
Paani ki chinta tumhen naiyya bain, Bhola ki moodh par lagi pipe-lain.
Khoob saparo saparao, paani bagarao.

Light ki chinta tumhen naiyya bain, Bhola ke maathe pe lagi laalten.
Chahe pankha chalao, chahe cooler chalao.
Gaura, saanchi, batao kaise karvao, Bhole Baba se viyao.

Naukar ki chinta tumhen naiyya bain, bhutai paritan ki lagi dwaar-lain.
Chahe jhaadu lagvao, chahe pocha lagvao,
Gaura, saanchi, batao kaise karvao, Bhole Baba se viyao.

Vaahan ki chinta tumhen naiyya bain, Bhola ke dware bandho doodho bail.
Chahe khoob hi daurao, chahe jitna bhagao.
Gaura, saanchi, batao kaise karvao, Bhole Baba se viyao.

Bhola ki hai naiyya konau dress, to kahe ke kaaj button kaahe ki press.
Gaura, saanchi, batao kaise karvao, Bhole Baba se viyao.”

“Gauri, truly tell me, how will you marry Bholenath?
You don’t worry about water, dear sister, for there’s a pipeline on Shiva’s matted locks.
Bring all your pots, let water overflow freely.
You don’t worry about electricity either, dear sister, for Shiva wears a lantern on his forehead.
Use a fan if you want, or even a cooler.
Gauri, truly tell me, how will you marry Bholenath?
Don’t worry about servants, dear sister, there’s a ghost at your door.
Make him sweep, make him mop.
Gauri, truly tell me, how will you marry Bholenath?
Don’t worry about transport, dear sister. Shiva has two running bulls tied at the gate.
Drive them fast or as wild as you wish.
And don’t worry about dress—Bholenath doesn’t wear one.
What’s the use of buttons or an iron, then?”

A couple of tourist guides were attempting, quite unsuccessfully, to explain the meaning of the folk song to their group in broken translations. Folk songs—no matter the language—are nearly impossible to translate, for they are steeped in emotion. Feelings are not translated—they must be experienced.

The entire crowd clapped enthusiastically and dropped offerings into the artist’s bowl. Anand too made his contribution and walked on.

While exploring Phoolbagh, Anand noticed a giant stone bowl. He asked Hukum Singh, "Who used to eat in such a large bowl?"

That’s when Hukum Singh began narrating the story of Lala Hardaul, calling it a unique tale from the Bundela royal family—an event that continued to inspire Indrajit Singh. Hardaul, uncle to Indrajit, had appeared after his death at his sister Kunjavati’s daughter’s wedding, shared a meal with the wedding guests, and partook of the ceremonial rice offering. In his memory, the custom of offering khichdi to Hardaul continues to this day in Bundelkhand during weddings. He is worshipped as a folk deity, with shrines dedicated to him in every village. The first wedding invitation is still sent to Hardaul. After the marriage, the bride and groom visit his shrine, seeking blessings and making vows.

In the Ramraja Temple complex of Orchha is the place where Hardaul consumed poison—now a sacred site where the people of Bundelkhand offer tearful tributes with utmost devotion. Nearby are other significant places: Hardaul Baithaka, Palki Mahal, Sawan-Bhado pillars, the great bowl, and the central square of Phoolbagh. The Orchha Fort complex beautifully combines Rajput and Mughal architectural styles, showcasing intricate craftsmanship and grand designs. Each palace, temple, and structure within it holds its own unique charm and historical significance.

Hukum Singh continued, “Orchha—an ancient kingdom in Bundelkhand where the Bundela kings etched history with bravery and wisdom—was nestled in the valleys of hills. At the heart of Orchha, beside the Palki Mahal, stands Phoolbagh, still known to the locals as Hardaul Vatika, built in memory of the brave prince who sacrificed his life to prove his innocence.

Anand asked, “Who was the king of Orchha at that time?”

Hukum Singh replied, “It was Raja Jujhar Singh, famous for his bravery and intelligence. When the Mughals ravaged the land and reached Orchha, he confronted them boldly. Delighted by his valour, Emperor Shah Jahan appointed him governor of the Deccan. The day royal messengers arrived with robes of honour and a decree, Orchha rejoiced in celebration. Jujhar Singh had earned a great opportunity.”

Raja Vir Singh had eight sons—the eldest was Jujhar Singh, and the youngest was Hardaul. While Jujhar Singh was tasked with governing from the Mughal court, Hardaul ruled Orchha. People believed Jujhar Singh to be impulsive, while Hardaul was known as a celibate, pious, and virtuous man. Tales of his bravery and celibacy were on every Bundela’s lips.

Anand asked, “What happened that caused a rift between the brothers?”

Hukum Singh, with a mysterious tone, said, “Towards the end of the 16th century, General Pahad Singh, Prateet Rai, and a woman named Heera Devi sowed seeds of suspicion in Jujhar Singh’s mind against his younger brother.”

Before leaving for the Deccan, Jujhar Singh called Hardaul and said, “Brother, I am departing. I entrust the kingdom to you. Rule it with justice—for that is a king’s greatest ally. In a fortress of justice, no enemy can breach. But remember, your job is not only to deliver justice but also to instil faith in it.”

With that, he placed his royal turban on Hardaul’s head. Hardaul wept and touched his feet for blessings.

Then Jujhar Singh went to the queen, Champavati, to bid farewell. She fell at his feet, weeping. Lifting her, he embraced her and said, “This is no time to cry. Bundela women do not weep at such moments. I’ve handed over the kingdom to Hardaul. He is still young—guide him with your counsel.”

Holding back her tears, the queen smiled through her pain, performed aarti, applied a tilak, girded his sword, and bid him farewell.

After Jujhar Singh’s departure, Hardaul began ruling. Within a short time, he won over the people with his justice and compassion. People forgot Jujhar Singh. Hardaul had no enemies—only friends. His cheerful nature and sweet speech made him beloved to all.

Never had Orchha seen a king so universally loved. He was generous, just, a patron of learning and virtues, but his greatest quality was his bravery. The people made him their king not just by law but by love.

Anand asked, “How long did this last?”

Hukum Singh replied, “About a year. In the Deccan, Jujhar Singh proved his mettle, while Hardaul enchanted Orchha’s people with a magic spell.”

He twirled his moustache and said, “It was the month of Phalgun. The ground was red with abir and gulal. Then came Qadir Khan, a famous wrestler from Delhi. He was feared even by great champions.”

On Holi day, he made an announcement:

“Qadir Khan, the lion of Delhi, has come to Orchha. If you value your life, come and meet your fate!”

Hearing this, Orchha’s Bundela warriors fumed with rage. The town’s largest wrestling arena filled by evening. The great Bundela wrestlers Kaldev and Bhaldev, proud warriors of countless victories, stepped forward to challenge him.

The next morning, by the lakeside near the fort, a huge crowd gathered. All of Orchha buzzed with tales of valour. Hardaul declared, “Beware! Let our honour remain unstained!”

With the beat of the drums, Kaldev and Qadir Khan entered the ring like lions. They wrestled fiercely for three hours. Then suddenly Qadir shouted “Allahu Akbar!” and lunged at Kaldev like lightning. Kaldev fell. The crowd rushed forward, but Hardaul stopped them, saying, “No one shall move forward now!”

That night, no one in Orchha slept. Their pride was deeply wounded. The next day, 300,000 Bundelas gathered again. Bhaldev—faster and sharper—entered the ring. Hopes were mixed with fear.

They fought for hours, but in the end, Bhaldev too fell. The people returned home, crushed. Hardaul told them, “Our defeat was sealed the moment the wrestler hit the ground.”

Back at the palace, Queen Champavati asked, “Lala, how was the match today?”

With bowed head, Hardaul replied, “The same as yesterday.”

Champavati asked, “Is there no hope?”

Hardaul said, “I am the only one in Orchha who can defeat him—if you bless me.”

Remembering the king’s order to keep Hardaul from harm, Champavati hesitated. But she knew that disobeying that order now was the truest form of obedience. She gave her blessing.

Next morning, word spread—Prince Hardaul would fight Qadir Khan. People rushed to the arena in frenzy. Every strike of Qadir Khan was matched by Hardaul’s counterattack, electrifying the crowd.

When the bell rang to mark the first hour, Hardaul executed a perfect throw, and Qadir fell flat. Hardaul pinned him down, and the arena erupted with joy. His bravery won every heart in Bundelkhand.

Meanwhile, Jujhar Singh continued his excellent governance in the Deccan. After a year, he returned with the emperor’s permission. The thought of Orchha always tugged at his heart. News of his return brought great celebration.

Queen Champavati herself cooked that day.

Queen Champavati personally prepared the meal that day.

A maid arrived and said, “Your Majesty, the food is ready.”

Both brothers sat down to eat. By mistake, the queen placed the golden platter before Hardaul and the silver one in front of the king. Hardaul didn’t notice, but Jujhar Singh’s face darkened with rage. Though he said nothing, his expression turned stern. He glared at the queen, took a few bites, each feeling like poison, and rose from the meal abruptly. The queen grew fearful upon seeing his anger.

Jujhar Singh lay down in the royal chamber, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Champavati, overwhelmed by anxiety, wondered,

“Should I go to him disguised as a beggar? I will beg for forgiveness…”

She removed all her jewellery and began to weep. Dressed as a beggar, she headed toward the royal chamber. Her feet moved forward, but her heart resisted.

“Who is it? Champavati? Why don’t you come in?” Jujhar Singh called out.

Gathering courage, she replied, “My lord, how can I enter? Anger now sits where I once did.”

Jujhar Singh replied coldly, “This requires atonement.”

She asked, “How?”

He answered, “With Hardaul’s blood.”

She trembled from head to toe. “Just because I mistakenly switched the meal platters?”

He replied, “No—because your love for Hardaul has overstepped its bounds.”

The queen’s face flushed red with indignation. The fire of suspicion had burned away all trust. She tried to restrain herself, and finally said only this:

“I see Hardaul as my son, as my younger brother.”

Jujhar Singh softened slightly and said,

“No, Hardaul is no son—I am the son who trusted you. A woman’s love is like flowing water—it flows where the slope lies.”

Weeping, the queen pleaded,

“How shall I clear this doubt from your heart?”

He replied,

“With Hardaul’s blood.”

She asked,

“Will my blood not suffice?”

He said,

“Your blood would only confirm my suspicions.”

Desperately, she asked,

“Is there no other way?”

Firmly, the king said,

“None. This is my final decision. Prepare kheer (sweet rice pudding), mix in this poison, and feed it to Hardaul with your own hands. That will be the proof of your chastity. Only when Hardaul’s body leaves this house will the doubt leave my mind.”

With disgust, she looked at the vial of poison and returned, her steps trembling.

“Shall I take Hardaul’s life?
This innocent, noble, and brave man?
Must I prove my chastity with his death?”

She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“How vile and petty has your heart become, O King?
Why don’t you kill him with your own hands if you so desire?
Why ask me to do this evil deed?”

Eventually, Champavati’s thoughts turned in a new direction:

“I must do this. My loyalty as a wife has been questioned.
I must clear this stain—even if it means sinning.”

That night, a crying maid came to Hardaul and told him everything, word for word. Hardaul had already sensed the growing tension in the king’s heart—this only confirmed it. He strictly instructed the maid to tell no one else and quietly resolved to embrace death.

Hardaul was the son of Bundela valour. Had Jujhar Singh challenged him in open combat, he would surely have lost. But this time, a woman’s honour required his blood. His inner voice told him:

“I must give my life to clear the name of an innocent, virtuous woman.
I will eat the poisoned kheer gladly.
What greater death can a warrior ask for?”

The next morning, Hardaul bathed and dressed in full arms and armour. Smiling, he went to the king. Jujhar Singh had also risen early. On a marble platform in front of him stood a silver tray with a bowl of kheer.

Seeing Hardaul’s glowing face filled Jujhar with more bitterness.

Hardaul said cheerfully,

“Maharaj, I’m heading out on a hunt. Bless me for victory—and let me sweeten my mouth with your kheer before I go!”

Jujhar Singh lifted the bowl and, after a moment of hesitation, handed it over with a smile.

Hardaul bowed respectfully, lifted the bowl to his forehead, looked around with a sorrowful gaze, and then drank it.

The poison was deadly. As it passed down his throat, his face paled, and his eyes dimmed. He took a deep breath, folded his hands in salutation to his brother, and sat down on the ground. Cold beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. His breathing grew shallow, but his face still shone with calm and satisfaction.

He said,

“Brother, Sister-in-law is pure and innocent. She is like a mother to me.”

At just twenty-three years of age, Hardaul died.

His body was buried far from the city, in a desolate place. His death plunged Orchha into deep mourning. After Jujhar Singh’s rage cooled, he was consumed by regret. He realised the grave injustice he had committed against his blameless brother. But the heaviest burden fell on Queen Champavati.

Anand asked, “Then how did Hardaul come to be worshipped all over Bundelkhand?”

Hukum Singh, with deep reverence, bowed his head and said,

“When Jujhar’s sister Kunjavati, who was married to King Ranjit Singh of Datia, came to request ceremonial rice (bhāt) for her daughter’s wedding, Jujhar refused, saying she had loved Hardaul more.
He told her to ask him—in the cremation grounds.”

Weeping and desperate, Kunjavati went to Hardaul’s grave and begged for ceremonial rice. Suddenly, a voice arose from the tomb:

“I will bring the rice myself.”

A year passed. The wedding day arrived. In Bundelkhand, maternal uncles play a vital role in weddings, offering gifts and blessings. Kunjavati’s only hope was her brother—but he was no longer among the living.

Heartbroken, she cried out to destiny, wishing Hardaul could return.

The people of Bundelkhand believe that Hardaul heard his sister’s plea from beyond the grave. On the day of the wedding, just as the ceremony was about to begin, a miracle occurred. The sounds of drums and trumpets filled the air, and an invisible procession arrived. Food was served, and gifts appeared. Overwhelmed with emotion, Queen Kunjavati knew—this was Hardaul, fulfilling his brotherly duty from beyond the tomb.

An elderly man from Orchha, sitting nearby, added:

“After the miracle at Kunjavati’s daughter’s wedding, people in every village began building ‘Hardaul Shrines.’ They are still present today.”

“Since that day,” Hukum Singh said with teary eyes.

“Raja Hardaul has been worshipped as a deity—especially in Bundelkhand. He is seen as a protector of honour, a symbol of fraternal love, and a compassionate spirit who blesses weddings and ensures their smooth conduct.”

To this day, before any wedding in Bundelkhand, Raja Hardaul is formally invited, and a portion of the wedding feast is set aside for him. It is believed that his spirit watches over the union, bestowing blessings and guarding the family’s honour.

As Anand continued listening to the story with Hukum Singh, they wandered through the beautifully preserved premises maintained by the Government of Madhya Pradesh. All around, local worshippers and international tourists filled the temple grounds.

Men and women of vastly different appearances and cultures observed each other with wide-eyed amazement. On one side, local women in heavy silver jewellery and vibrant sarees with veiled faces; on the other, foreign women in shorts and sleeveless tops, some without even a scarf. To the local men, they seemed like beings from another world.

Kavipriya

Hukum Singh and Anand ate the food they had brought with them while sitting in Phulbagh. Today, Hukum Singh had brought Bundelkhandi food prepared at his home.

The story of Hardaul still echoed in Anand's mind, but Punia's story also fascinated him. Anand asked Hukum Singh about King Indrajeet.

After some time, Hukum Singh began to talk about King Indrajeet. "From time to time, the King would come to the school and request Punia to sing something. Although she was not unaware of the King's intentions, she also believed that her father would soon be able to return to the village. Whispers began in the school."

As time passed, Punia's heart began to settle into the school. It didn't take Punia long to understand that the King had called her to Orchha to separate her from her father. The question now was what Punia should do. Meanwhile, Punia's practice of arts had greatly increased. On the other hand, she did not know what would happen in the future.

Punia's father, Shankar, was given various tasks. Punia dedicated herself to her studies. Punia knew that a confrontation with the King meant death, but she had no fear of it. Despite being the poor daughter of the village blacksmith, she possessed a courage that even great warriors lacked.

Punia could not be made to do anything against her will. Many festivals were celebrated throughout the year in the Orchha palace. Students from Phulbagh's school participated enthusiastically in these.

Punia participated in all these activities under the guidance of her gurus and was pleased to receive everyone's praise. These activities greatly enhanced her qualities. Punia was introduced to folk song writing, poetry writing, and all Bundeli literature.

Anand asked, "What kind of folk songs are sung in Bundelkhand?"

Hukum Singh, searching his treasure trove of knowledge, said, "The prominent folk songs include Alha, Gari, Ravala, Dhimryai, Kachhayai, Dhobyai, Led, Rai, Lamtera, Dadra, Mudanna, Kartik, Sohar, Diwari, Banra, Bilwari, Phag, Hori, Chaiti, Dhuni Bhajan, Kajri, Malhar, Shair, Tamura Bhajan, Rasiya, Badhai, Lavani, Khyal, Gailhai, Rachron, Pai, Manauwa, Bulauwa, Tankori, Rekhta, Matwari, Nihora, Madhurla, Sahana, Gauri, Jhulna, Hansauwa, Barahmasi, Languria, Atka, Akati, Limdi, Achhari, Dinri, Dulri, Got, Paundwa, Jikdi, Madwa, Chikat Utrai, Mair Puja, Haldi, Mati Pujan, Banna, Banni, Bhavar, Chadhav, Kunwar Kaleva, Badhai, Bidai, Kuan Pujan, God Bharai, Janam Geet."

Punia learned everything with great dedication. Maharaj would come from time to time to listen to Punia's singing. He would test Punia's reading, writing, dancing, and singing. Because she was favoured by the Maharaj, all the gurus also paid special attention to her.

The main folk dances of Bundelkhand are Rai dance, Sera dance, Kachhiyayi dance, and Moniya dance. Popular dances here include Kabir Panthi, Jugiya dance, Jabara dance, Ravala dance, Dhola Maru dance, Dildil Ghodi dance, and Sapera dance. Punia was formally taught all of these.

One day, Punia performed the Rai dance for the Maharaj. Rai dance is one of the most prominent and energetic folk dances of the Bundelkhand region. It is a captivating performance that expresses joy, celebration, and a sense of community, often performed on auspicious occasions such as festivals, weddings, child birth, and good harvests.

Other female dancers with Punia looked like vibrant Bednis. They wore elaborate traditional Bundeli attire, the most special being the "Nau Gaj Lehenga" (a long, swirling skirt that can be ten to twelve meters long). These lehengas, often in bright pink, yellow, green, and blue, created stunning visual patterns as the dancers twirled and spun. Punia adorned herself with heavy traditional jewellery such as "Benda," "Tikuli," "Kardhani," and "Painjana." The ghunghat (veil) was an essential part of her attire, symbolising modesty and enhancing the aesthetic appeal of the dance.

On that day, the dance was performed to the rhythmic beats of traditional musical instruments, primarily the Nagara (a large drum) and the Dholak (a smaller drum). Other instruments played during the performance included Jheeka, Ramtula, Manjira, Harmonium, and Dhapli.

A competition ensued between the fast-paced drum beats and the dancers' intricate steps, with Punia leading the dance to a joyous and energetic climax. Everyone was greatly entertained that day. This dance was the quintessential dance of that festival.

Hearing the word "Rai," Anand's curiosity was piqued: "Why is this dance called Rai dance?" Anand asked Hukum Singh this question.

Hukum Singh began to explain, "The name 'Rai' itself is derived from 'rai,' which means mustard seed. The movements of the dance are often compared to mustard seeds that spin and shake rapidly when placed in a saucer or burst in hot oil. This analogy perfectly captures the dynamic and vibrant nature of the dance, which includes fast footwork, graceful spins, and fluid body movements."

It is a strong symbol of Bundelkhandi culture and heritage, reflecting the vibrant traditions of the region. Rai dance presents diverse themes, including those depicting daily life, love, devotion, and celebration. The accompanying songs range from playful banter between men and women to stories from Hindu mythology such as Lord Krishna and the Gopis or praises of Lord Rama and Devi Sita.

Rai dance is not just a performance; it is a living tradition that pulsates with the energy and spirit of Bundelkhand, captivating audiences with its dynamic movements, colourful costumes, and rhythmic music.

Hukum Singh then spoke about Punia's education, stating that arrangements were made to teach Punia all these dances, and the Maharaj was a great admirer of Punia's dance and singing.

The Buzz Around Punia

Now, the whispers in the school had turned into gossip. It was no longer hidden from anyone that the Maharaj desired Punia. Courtiers and ministers began to call it an inauspicious sign.

Punia was also no longer the same. She glowed with youth and the brilliance of scholarship. Her courage had increased, and she began to speak her mind fearlessly. By now, Punia also secretly desired the Maharaj. When Punia was young, people praised the Maharaj, saying he had special favour for a poor girl. But with age, and especially after winning competitions against other children and princesses in the school, the Maharaj's attraction to Punia became a topic of discussion.

The Unspoken Love

Until now, nothing had happened that people could point fingers at, so the matter wasn't big. The Maharaj also didn't want to make a mountain out of a molehill. Therefore, he was looking for an opportunity where he could propose and understand Punia's feelings. Punia had also not made any inappropriate overtures. There was an age difference between the two, and their social standings were also very unequal.

Punia sometimes wondered what good the Maharaj's immense kindness was.

Anand now began to understand Punia's story, but he couldn't grasp the secret behind the naming of Rai Praveen. Anand sought the answer to this question from Hukum Singh.

The Origin of "Rai Praveen"

Hukum Singh said with a proud demeanour, "Punia was very obedient. She was the most beloved disciple of her gurus, especially Keshavdas. They diligently taught her the nuances of language. They paid great attention to grammar and word pronunciation. Then, one day, the state minister spoke to the Maharaj about the Kachhaua Mahotsav, which was celebrated every year on the full moon day of the spring season."

The Maharaj then secretly decided that he would feature Punia's singing at the Kachhaua Mahotsav. Knowing the right time, the Maharaj decided to organise a grand singing event in Kachhaua. The Maharaj had started the Kachhaua Mahotsav when he received the jagir (fiefdom) of Kachhaua.

Since then, the scale of this ceremony had grown immensely, as he was now also the King of Orchha. Famous singers from all over the country were invited to this ceremony. Nearby kings and chieftains were also invited in large numbers.

This was a major event for the Orchha state. Preparations for it began several months in advance. The Maharaj discussed this with Keshavdas and began Punia's special preparation.

Punia's Poetic Brilliance

Keshav once tested his disciple and asked:

"Kanak chhari si kamini, kahe ko kati chheen." (Like a golden staff, beautiful woman, why is your waist thin?)

Punia replied: "Kati ko kanchan kaat ke, kuchan madhya dhar deen." (The gold of the waist was cut, and placed between the breasts.)

Keshav asked again: "Jo kuch kanchan ke bane, mukh karo kihi keen." (If the breasts are made of gold, why is the face dark?)

Punia replied: "Jeevan jwar ke jor mein, Madan-muhar kar deen." (In the fever of life's passion, the seal of love was stamped.)

Although this poetry belonged to another famous poet of that time, it is an excellent example of quick wit. In this way, Keshav would test her from time to time. He was a great admirer of her talent.

Keshavdas and Bundeli Literature

Keshav Das is one of the foremost poets of this period. The basis of all his poems is Sanskrit texts. In Kavipriya, Rasikpriya, Ramchandrika, Veersingh Bundela Charitra, Vigyan Geeta, Ratan Bavani, and Jahangir Jaschandrika, Keshav's extensive poetic language experimentation and the culture, customs, and linguistic usages of the Bundeli land establish him as a prominent poet of Bundeli.

The integrated form of Riti (poetic tradition) and Bhakti (devotion) is present throughout Keshav's poetry. The Riti-वादी poet has presented the Riti element in Kavipriya and Rasikpriya, and the Bhakti element, both directly and indirectly, in Vigyan Geeta and Ramchandrika. Poet Keshavdas prominently featured the Bundeli Gari folk song in his poetry and refined this Gari song in the Savaiya meter.

All the dialogues in Ramchandrika are in Savaiyas. Such a dialogue scheme is rare. On one hand, folk culture became very influential for the protection of culture, and on the other hand, elements of foreign culture were slowly taking root.

A devotional sentiment, incorporating both aspects, became dominant, structuring a syncretic culture. Mahakavi Tulsidas walked with this same synthesis. He never abandoned the folk tendencies of Bundelkhand; rather, because of them, he remained connected to the earth. Bundelkhandi Jyaunar (feasts) had become quite famous.

The Legacy of Music in Bundelkhand

Maharaj Indrajeet himself composed poetry under the pseudonym "Dheeraj Narendra." Since the dawn of human civilisation, music has existed. Many forms of expression for humans' spontaneously gentle emotions emerged, among which music is prominent. It is difficult to determine when indigenous music, moving along the winding paths of historical development, became classical.

Bundelkhand has always been identified by its music. Music festivals have been organised since the establishment of the Bundelkhand state. No cards or invitations were printed for this ceremony, yet thousands of people came. Do you know why? This ceremony broke the elitism of classical music and brought it to the common man.

At that time, this music festival was the soul of Bundelkhand. The best dancer was selected at this ceremony and given the honour of Raj Nartaki (Royal Dancer).

The Esteemed Position of a Raj Nartaki

Anand asked, "Who is a Raj Nartaki?"

Hukum Singh explained this ancient tradition, "A Raj Nartaki was not a courtesan, but a high position for an independent woman in the society of that time. The position of a Raj Nartaki was parallel to that of the Rajrani (Queen), and she was entitled to royal honour.

Although a Raj Nartaki could not become a Kulbadhu (family daughter-in-law), she had the right to choose her beloved. Additionally, only dance talent was not enough to become a Raj Nartaki; she also needed to be a scholar, a language expert, and knowledgeable about royal activities, rules, and behaviours. The education of princes, princesses, ministers, and royal men took place in the Raj Nartaki's palace itself."

For some reason, the post of Raj Nartaki in Orchha had become vacant. Therefore, the selection of a Raj Nartaki was to take place at this ceremony. This made this year's ceremony special. The seven leading dance gurus of the time had sent their best disciples. Orchha was a large kingdom. There was prosperity. The development of art was at its peak there. All seven disciples were amazing and exceptionally talented.

One of them was to be chosen. The crowd gathered at the ceremony, and its concentration proved that classical music was not just for educated, elite people. Anyone of any religion, caste, or sect could attend this top music festival without a ticket, pass, or invitation.

The Symphony of Orchha

Singing, instrumental music, and dance – the integrated form of all three is music. In the beginning, only local artists participated in this ceremony, but later it was given a nationwide scope. There would be no artist in the country who had not visited here at some point.

Baiju created a style of Dhrupad based on Braj Bhasha that spread from Central India to Gujarat. Baiju taught music to Bakshu, and Bakshu taught Tansen. Bakshu was in the Gwalior court. These three music scholars had given a new form to the Dhrupads of the temples.

The Gwalior Gharana is a prominent gharana of Indian classical music, famous for Khyal singing. It is one of the oldest gharanas and is considered the "Gangotri" of Khyal singing. This gharana was established during the Mughal period and played a significant role in the development of Khyal singing. Orchha has had a connection with Gwalior.

Music was given more importance in Orchha. The mornings and evenings of this city resonated with the echoes of ragas and raginis. The buildings of this city sang the alap of musical heritage, and the residents of the city hummed the sweet tunes of their ancestors' traditions.

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Punia's Ascendance

When Punia was receiving writing education in Keshav Das's school and dance and music education from the dance guru, she stepped from the courtyard of childhood into the courtyard of youth, and it was as if the goddess of beauty had bestowed immense beauty upon her as a gift. Punia became the owner of amazing beauty.

Punia was being presented on stage for the first time, so as the principal of the school, Keshav and all her gurus could not leave any stone unturned in preparing for her performance. The ceremony began.

One after another, dances were presented. Six dancers showcased their skills. Everyone's dance was extraordinary. When the end time came, Punia's name was called.

She came onto the stage from behind the curtain, as if a fairy had descended onto the stage from Indra's assembly. Seeing her beauty, the roar of applause resonated across the grounds for a long time. It seemed as if this stage and program had been organised solely for Punia.

Punia flowed such a stream of emotion that great musicians were amazed by her talent. When Punia began her dance and her feet caught the rhythm, an otherworldly effect spread over the spectators, as if magic had been cast. She sang and danced a folk song popular in the traditional folk consciousness:

"Kabhau ja dukaniyaan, kabhau ba dukaniyaan. Naay maay firati jagaati mohaniyaan. Ek ki mokhe haradi de de, do ki de de dhaniyaan. Bol sune se taul bhool gau nai umar ko baniyaan. Kabhi to nirakhe tipki kundal, kabhi nathuniyaan. Saj dhaj bela nikari, haat baajaare. Ochhi agiyaan pai, baato achara samhare. Chhu chhu jaabe jagiyaan, kamar kardhaniyaan. Kabhau ja dukaniyaan, kabhau ba dukaniyaan. Naay maay firati jagaati mohaniyaan. Gail ghaat ke chhail chikaniyaan, bhaura se madhraabe. Kou to upta kha gir jaabe, kou dekhat re jaabe. Badi budhi kaave kaisi chadhi hai juwaniyaan. Kabhau ja dukaniyaan, kabhau ba dukaniyaan. Naay maay firati jagaati mohaniyaan."

"Sometimes to this shop, sometimes to that shop, A charming woman roams, awakening desires. From one, she asks for turmeric; from another, for coriander. The young shopkeeper, hearing her voice, forgets his scales. Sometimes she gazes at her 'tipki' and earrings, sometimes her nose ring. Adorned and ready, the beautiful one steps out into the marketplace, with a slight twist in her walk, gracefully holding her veil. Her waist-belt (kardhani) softly touches her hips as she moves. Sometimes to this shop, to that shop, A charming woman roams, awakening desires. The playful, flirtatious boys on the path and ghats hover around her like bees. Some stumble and fall, while others just stare. The old women wonder, 'How much has youth blossomed in her!' Sometimes to this shop, to that shop, A charming woman roams, awakening desires."

The Unveiling of Rai Praveen

After Punia's dance, the entire assembly rose to its feet, and the sky echoed with thunderous applause. The assembly had declared her the winner.

Punia met all the qualifications. She was a goddess of beauty, an embodiment of scholarship, with enchantment in her voice, a resonance in her tone, and a heavenly confluence of rhythm in her feet. All these qualities gave her a unique personality.

The youth were astonished, and the elderly connoisseurs of art said, "They had never seen such a dance in their lives."

At the end of the singing, the Maharaj, entangled in Punia's music and beauty, rose like a sleepwalker and placed the garland meant for God around Punia's neck and put a sweet packet in her pallu (end of saree). Secretly, the innocent village girl considered this garland her wedding garland and herself Indrajeet's wife. Punia bowed her head with folded hands and greeted the Maharaj.

King Indrajeet was stunned by Punia's adornment. Where was the daughter of a poor village blacksmith, and where was today's literal apsara (celestial nymph)? Today, Punia wore a Chanderi odhani over her lehenga-choli. She wore Karnaphool in her ears, Pungariya in her nose, Bedi on her forehead, Hasli, Kathla, Guluband, Bichhauli, Tidna around her neck, Bajuband, Choodiyan on her arms, Anguthiyan on her fingers, Painjana, Jhanjhar on her feet, and Kardhauni around her waist. She had done a Solah Shringar (sixteen adornments) like a princess.

The Maharaj announced in the full assembly: "From today, Punia will be named Praveen, and the title of Rai is being bestowed upon her by the state. Therefore, from today onwards, she shall be addressed as Rai Praveen."

"Rai Praveen" means "Skilled Rai" or "Talented Rai." With skin as fair as moonlight, dense black long hair, exceedingly beautiful eyes, an enchanting smile, and a gait like a royal swan. With the beauty of an apsara and Saraswati in her throat, skilled in composing poetry, a graduate in singing and dancing, Rai Praveen became the pride of Orchha.

With the flow of the song, she scattered such a charm of intoxicating youth that Indrajeet lost all awareness. She looked exquisitely beautiful. Thus, Punia was made the 'Raj Nartaki'. The ceremony was coming to an end. Food and drink continued late into the night. The Maharaj was very busy.

The Maharaja's desire clashed with the customs of society and the palace. All singers were given due respect and remuneration and then bid farewell.

Exploring Orchha's Rich Heritage

The stories of the Bundele Harbole were extremely interesting. Anand and Hukum Singh were touring the city's sites by bicycle and listening to the stories. Beyond history books, the historical consciousness of the common people was amazing. Anand was experiencing this knowledge for the first time.

Anand thought that a person should do at least three things in their life: first, travel as much as possible in the world; second, gain proficiency in at least one art; and third, cultivate the habit of reading good books so that when you leave this world, you leave having learned something, because a good book is the essence of an author's entire life.

You gain that knowledge with just a few hours of study. Thus, in your short life, you can gain centuries of knowledge, centuries of experience.

Promising to meet at Blue Sky Restaurant at seven in the morning tomorrow, Anand and Hukum Singh went their separate ways. Sanjay had arranged dinner with his family in the evening. His family consists of his wife, a son, and a young daughter.

His wife is a skilled homemaker and the main manager of this place. In conversation, Sanjay mentioned that although creation is also happening at an invisible level, this creation is related to the discovery that everything in Orchha is worth preserving and sharing with the world.

This is a form of preserving old heritage. Certainly, even before this tourism boom, the people of Orchha had respect for their heritage. The last twenty years have inspired them to reflect more deeply on their identity. Seeing people willing to travel so far to see their heritage has perhaps created a new identity for Orchha, which is more than just a mysterious and story-filled place by the river.

All tourists come to Orchha with some degree of interest in its medieval history, whether it's an interest in gaining a deep understanding of India's history or imagining what life must have been like during the time of Indrajeet Singh and Bir Singh. Sanjay suggested that I watch Orchha's Light and Sound Show.

The North Star

It was decided to meet Hukum Singh at Ram Raja Restaurant at nine in the morning. Anand arrived on time, but Hukum Singh was late. Ram Raja Restaurant is located approximately fifty meters from the fort complex. Anand began talking to the owner of Ram Raja Restaurant. He narrated the saga of Punia and explained that King Indrajeet was a king with a keen aesthetic sense.

Indrajeet wanted to establish Rai Praveen as the royal dancer in Orchha, but Rai Praveen was not ready for it. She had accepted the King as her husband. This news spread like wildfire in all directions. Everyone discussed this topic. Due to this, Rai Praveen was subjected to extreme public ridicule. When Keshav Das learned about Rai Praveen's stubbornness regarding marriage, he informed the Maharaj.

Rai Praveen was an extremely honourable woman. She believed that a Hindu marriage is a bond between husband and wife for many lifetimes, which cannot be broken under any circumstances.

Rai Praveen believed that by taking seven vows before the fire and witnessing the Dhruva Tara (North Star), two bodies, minds, and souls become bound in a sacred relationship. In Hindu marriage, the spiritual connection between husband and wife is considered more important than the physical connection, and this relationship is considered extremely sacred.

Hindu women observe various customs. Sindoor (vermilion), Mangalsutra, and Churi (bangles) are considered the identity of a married woman.

Anand asked, "Why is the Mangalsutra so important?"

He said, "The Mangalsutra, a necklace that the groom ties around the bride's neck, symbolises protection for the married couple from evil eyes and longevity for the husband. If the Mangalsutra is lost or broken, it is considered inauspicious."

Women wore it daily as a reminder of their duty towards their husbands.

Punia was also taught this same lesson from childhood.

Rai Praveen's Resolve

Rai Praveen's father made many attempts to arrange her marriage. Her father learned of Rai Praveen's resolve when he proposed her marriage. The resolute Rai Praveen then clearly refused to marry anyone. Now this matter had been revealed to everyone. This news also reached Indrajeet Singh.

Indrajeet Singh was unaware of Rai Praveen's resolve. He had immense affection for his wife, Rao Rani. Rai Praveen was younger, and Indrajeet was mesmerised by her singing. He had never even dreamt until then that he would fall in love with Rai Praveen.

It seemed that Indrajeet Singh was going through a challenging period with Rai Praveen. Even after becoming Rai Praveen, she was still Punia, the blacksmith's daughter, deep down. Punia was aspiring for a proper marriage rather than continuing the relationship, and Indrajeet's stance was unclear.

Rai Praveen's family circumstances had given rise to this perspective, which forced her to take such a firm stance on marriage. The first reason was the desire for security and commitment. The second reason was emotional security. The third reason was financial and social security.

For Punia, marriage was the foundation for establishing a family, having children, and planning a long-term future together. Without it, these plans seemed uncertain and incomplete. From her childhood, the dream of a prince coming on a white horse had been instilled in her young mind. Now that the prince had truly come into her life, she wanted to have him at any cost.

Especially in Bundelkhand, social and cultural expectations play a significant role in family, relationships, and marriage. Punia faced immense pressure from her family to marry, especially as she had reached the appropriate age for marriage. Punia could not accept a long-term relationship without the formal commitment of marriage.

Unmarried couples who lived together or were in long-term relationships without marriage faced social stigma in Bundelkhandi society. Marriage provides social acceptance and legitimacy.

Punia was raised with traditional values, where marriage was seen as the natural and necessary progression of a serious relationship. She believed in the sanctity and importance of marriage as personal values.

Indrajeet's reluctance or delay in proposing marriage was seen by Punia as a lack of serious commitment on his part. Punia had no interest in continuing the relationship without a proper marriage.

If the relationship did not lead to marriage, Punia would experience heartbreak, disappointment, frustration, and a waste of time. Punia felt inferior when her desire for commitment was not fulfilled.

This made Punia experience sorrow, loss, guilt, and regret. Punia had already considered Indrajeet her husband. Therefore, ending this important relationship was emotionally painful. This situation presented an opportunity for deep introspection for Indrajeet. Understanding his reasons was important.

He asked himself— Why was he hesitant about marriage? Was it fear of commitment? Were there financial concerns? Was there fear of inequality due to different castes? Was there fear of the age difference? Or was he just not feeling ready? Why was marriage so unacceptable to him at this time? What were his underlying needs and fears?

But when he did not find satisfactory answers himself, he discussed his desire with Keshav.

Indrajeet said: "Is my love impure?" Keshav said, "Love is not impure, Maharaj. Impure is the thought that weighs love in terms of caste and status."

The Conflict of Love and Duty

Meanwhile, Rai Praveen was not agreeing to this. King Indrajeet sent messages to Rai Praveen many times, but she did not come. Then Indrajeet sent Rai Praveen's guru, Keshavdas, to her. He knew that Rai Praveen would not refuse Keshavdas.

Keshav also wanted his talented disciple to remain in the Orchha royal court. Rai Praveen could only get an opportunity to showcase her talent due to royal patronage.

Rai Praveen spent all her time practising her music and writing poetry. Rai Praveen remained in her house. Outside the palace, the air was cool, but the Maharaj's inner fire was keeping him warm.

In the meantime, Hukum Singh arrived. While eating poori-sabzi, the discussion with Anand continued, and Hukum Singh proceeded with the narrative of Indrajeet's story.

The Maharaj did not want to lose Rai Praveen. The Maharaj had also fallen deeply in love with Rai Praveen. He was so entangled in the web of her beauty that it seemed impossible to separate from her.

The Maharaj genuinely desired Rai Praveen; firstly, he was older than Rai Praveen, and secondly, he had immense affection for his lawful wife, Rao Rani. Due to this dilemma, he was unable to make a decision.

Indrajeet was a skilled administrator, generous, devout, and a connoisseur of literature and art. His love for music made his court like the assembly of Indra. Indrajeet's court was like an arena of fairies. The combination of beauty and gold had become so intertwined with music, poetry writing, singing, and dancing that it was impossible to separate them.

The fame of Orchha's court spread in all directions, attracting artists of various kinds, and a festive atmosphere always prevailed there.

In Maharaj Indrajeet's Rang Mahal, there were six dancers: Rai Praveen, Navrang Rai, Vichitra Naina, Tarang, Rang Rai, and Rang Murti. Rai Praveen's personality was unique among all of them because she was fair-complexioned, had deer-like eyes, a shapely body, delicate limbs, was skilled in music and dance, and proficient in composing poetry.

In the Maharaj's court, Rai Praveen glowed like a lamp. Urvashi resided in her beauty, Saraswati in her throat, and anotherworldly essence flowed from her veena playing. The audience remained mesmerised. Due to her extraordinary qualities, Rai Praveen had conquered the Maharaj's inner self.

The Maharaj had become bound by Rai Praveen's love. Rai Praveen also began to worship the Maharaj like a deity. Keshav Das compared their resemblance to Krishna and Satyabhama. The Maharaj became enamoured with Rai Praveen's intoxicating charm. Rai Praveen was lost in the Maharaj's memories every moment, and the Maharaj imagined experiencing peace in Rai Praveen's company during intimate moments.

Her captivating image, her emotion-filled poetry from her sweet throat, her expressive dance, and the intoxicating flow of her melodies completely immersed him. Keshavdas wrote his work Kavipriya, inspired by Rai Praveen. He wrote:

 "Savita Ju Kavita Dai, takhaan Param Prakaas. Taake Kaaraj Kavipriya, keenhi Keshav Das."

 “The Sun God gave poetry, where there is ultimate light. For that purpose, Keshav Das created Kavipriya.”

The Valour of Madhukar Shah

Indrajeet was recalling the old tales of his family. After becoming the successor to his elder brother Bharti Chand, Madhukar Shah continuously fought with northern rulers.

Anand asked to know more about Madhukar Shah. Hukum Singh said, "Maharaj Madhukar Shah loved his son Indrajeet very much. Although most of his time was spent outside Orchha fighting battles with Akbar's army, whenever he was in Orchha, he would tell his sons the history of Orchha city."

Inspired by Madhukar Shah, many kings of Bundelkhand and the country applied tilak on their foreheads and considered him as their guru. When the declaration of Akbar's court was made, all kings and jagirdars under the Mughal Empire had to go to Akbar's court to pay respects.

Once, Akbar announced that no Hindu king would come to the court wearing a tilak and a garland. Any king who violated the royal decree would have his forehead branded with a hot spear. But when Akbar banned wearing a tilak in the court, Madhukar Shah pondered over this decree all night. He could not sleep at night.

Madhukar Shah thought that if he followed Akbar's decree, what would history write about him? The actions of great men, that is, what they do, are imitated by other ordinary people. Whatever proof or example great men present, the entire human community begins to follow it.

Suddenly, Krishna's teaching from the Gita emerged in Madhukar Shah's mind: 'Just as ignorant people act with attachment to fruit, so too should learned people act without attachment to lead people on the right path.'

Madhukar Shah continued to contemplate until morning. Madhukar Shah decided that even if it cost him his life, he would not abandon his dharma. And after finishing his daily rituals, Madhukar Shah went to the puja room, and after the puja, he applied a very thick tilak and wore a garland. Then he openly defied the court by wearing a tilak and a garland.

Akbar, seeing Madhukar Shah, asked, "Did you not hear the royal decree yesterday?" Madhukar Shah said, "O Emperor! I came to the court yesterday and heard the royal decree, but I cannot deviate from my dharma."

The Courageous Madhukar Shah and Abul Fazal's Demise

Nevertheless, he was a capable ruler of Orchha, and when the Mughal Emperor Akbar heard about his strong religious beliefs, he immediately decided to test him. He declared wearing a garland and applying a tilak on the forehead illegal.

But Madhukar did not give up and wore both a garland and a tilak on his forehead when appearing in the Mughal court.

Then Akbar said, "You are the only king who has shown such courage. Therefore, from today onwards, the tilak will be known by your name." The Emperor was highly impressed by his courage and devotion. Madhukar Shah became a hero to his people, and from that day onwards, his tilak became a distinct tradition of the Bundelas.

Due to his defiance, Akbar had to withdraw his decree. Madhukar Shah defied Akbar a second time when he did not kill a lion despite being ordered to do so.

Because he believed it was a symbol of Narasimha, an avatar of Vishnu. Akbar's only son, Prince Salim, loved Anarkali immensely. When Akbar learned about this, he was against it.

Akbar tried to explain to Salim, but he did not listen. At this, one day, both came face to face, and a war broke out between them. In the battle, Prince Salim had to flee to save his life from Akbar. Salim went to many kings to save his life, but due to Akbar's influence, everyone refused to give him refuge. Finally, he reached Orchha Naresh Madhukar Bundela. Madhukar Shah Bundela granted him refuge.

Salim started living with his son, Veer Singh Bundela. Upon learning this, Akbar ordered his army to attack Orchha state. The army encamped outside Orchha. As soon as the attack was sensed, Orchha Naresh Madhukar Shah Bundela employed a unique strategy at night.

At night, when the soldiers were resting, the Orchha Naresh tied torches to the horns of all the buffaloes and ran them among the soldiers' tents. He also detonated their armoury. This resulted in the death of countless soldiers of Akbar's army.

After the unexpected defeat in the war, Akbar sent a peace proposal to King Madhukar Shah Bundela, also demanding the return of Salim. Orchha Naresh set a condition that he would return Salim only on one condition—that Akbar would not hang him. On this condition, Orchha Naresh Madhukar Shah Bundela returned Salim to his father Akbar.

The Legacy Continues: From Madhukar Shah to Rai Praveen

This made Akbar furious, and on several occasions, he tried to capture Orchha. In one battle, Madhukar Shah was defeated. Akbar fought many battles against Madhukar Shah. Finally, when Madhukar Shah did not reach the court upon Akbar's summons, Sadiq Khan was sent to invade Orchha.

Hukum Singh said with sorrow and regret that Madhukar Shah lost the battle. Along with the news of Madhukar Shah's death, his head was presented to the बादशाह (Emperor). The courtiers thought Akbar would be happy, but Akbar became sad. He said, "Where will such an enemy be found again? Oh God! Keep the gates of heaven open, the lion of Bundelkhand is coming."

After his death, his eldest son Ramshah was made the ruler of Orchha after seeking forgiveness from the Emperor. Due to his lack of interest in governance, he handed over the throne of Orchha to his brother Indrajeet.

At that time, the fame of Madhukar Shah's younger son, Veer Singh Dev, had spread far and wide for his valour and bravery. Indrajeet's brother Veer Singh always opposed the Muslims. Veer Singh received the jagir of Baroni in Datia, which he did not feel was commensurate with his ability.

That is why Veer Singh rebelled against his brother Ramchandra. This was the same time when distances were increasing between Emperor Akbar and his son Jahangir in the Mughal rule. Jahangir later stated in his memoirs that the reason for this was Abul Fazal, one of Akbar's closest and one of the Navratnas (nine jewels).

Abul Fazal was a renowned scholar and special advisor to Akbar. At one point, the distance between Jahangir and Akbar grew so much that Jahangir rebelled and established his separate court in Allahabad.

Meanwhile, Jahangir met Veer Singh Bundela. Before this, Ramchandra had attacked Veer Singh many times with the help of the Mughal army but had been unsuccessful. Jahangir considered Abul Fazal his biggest enemy. He felt that he would hardly be able to return to his father as long as Abul Fazal was there.

Jahangir received information that Abul Fazal, who was on a tour, was returning from the south towards Agra, and his convoy would pass through Bundelkhand. Jahangir sought help from his friend Veer Singh.

While returning from the south, Abul Fazal's convoy was attacked by Veer Singh and his companions near Gwalior. Abul Fazal died. Hearing this news, Akbar became furious. He sent an army to capture Veer Singh, but Jahangir had warned his friend.

Although Veer Singh's army was defeated by Akbar's army, Veer Singh was not caught. He first took refuge in the fort of Erach, but when it was also surrounded, he reached Datia. There, Jahangir himself was waiting for him.

Indrajeet was troubled by the thought of how he would be able to protect the honour of his lineage if he married Rai Praveen, who was younger and of a different caste.

Indrajeet Singh, enchanted by the singing of the extremely beautiful Rai Praveen, first tried to persuade Rai Praveen, but when the efforts proved ineffective, he also accepted the status quo.

Now this story had reached an interesting turn. Hukum Singh was making it even more mysterious by narrating it in instalments.

Orchha's Mesmerising Light and Sound Show

On Sanjay's suggestion, Anand went to watch the Light and Sound Show, which takes place in the Fort Palace Complex in the evening. It showcases the history of Orchha and its glory in an interesting audio-visual medium.

For Anand, the Light and Sound Show held at Orchha Fort was a captivating experience that brought the rich history and legends of this historical kingdom to life. The show is organised within the Orchha Fort complex.

It utilises magnificent structures like Jahangir Mahal, Sheesh Mahal, and Diwan-e-Aam as a backdrop for projections and lighting.

Anand arrived there at seven in the evening. Anand bought a ticket and sat in the audience section. This show uses sound, light, and sometimes visual projections to narrate the history of Orchha. The story unfolds chronologically, covering the prominent periods and significant personalities of the Bundela dynasty.

The show begins with the story of Bundela chief Rudra Pratap Singh, the founding of Orchha, and the commencement of the fort's construction. The narration explains how this strategic location on the banks of the Betwa River was chosen and how the initial foundations of this powerful kingdom were laid.

A significant part of the narrative revolves around King Madhukar Shah and his devout wife, Queen Ganesh Kunwari. The story recounts the legend of how Queen Ganesh Kunwari brought an idol of Lord Rama from Ayodhya to Orchha. The Queen wanted to install it in the newly constructed Chaturbhuj Temple. However, since the temple was still under construction, the idol was temporarily placed in the palace. According to legend, Lord Rama had three conditions for coming to Orchha.

When it was time to move the idol to the Chaturbhuj Temple, it miraculously did not budge from the palace. Thus, the part of the palace where the idol was placed became the Ram Raja Temple, where Lord Rama is uniquely worshipped as a king, and even today, he is given a daily police guard of honour.

The show highlights the reign of King Veer Singh Dev, considered one of the greatest Bundela kings. His controversial but strong relationship with the Mughal Emperor Jahangir is a major focal point.

Veer Singh Dev had assassinated Abul Fazal, a close advisor to Akbar, at the behest of Prince Salim (later Emperor Jahangir). This act, although initially leading to Akbar's invasion of Orchha, eventually forged a strong friendship between Veer Singh Dev and Jahangir. The magnificent Jahangir Mahal within the fort complex was built by Veer Singh Dev in honour of Jahangir's visit to Orchha. The show uses lighting to emphasise the architectural blend of Bundela and Mughal styles in this palace, symbolising their unique alliance.

The captivating story of Rai Praveen, the beloved and famous poetess, singer, and dancer of King Indrajeet Singh (Veer Singh Dev's successor). The show narrates how Rai Praveen's beauty and talent reached Emperor Akbar, who summoned her to his court.

However, Rai Praveen, deeply devoted to King Indrajeet Singh, cleverly recited a couplet that expressed her unwavering loyalty and love, impressing Akbar, who sent her back to Orchha. A beautiful residence, Rai Praveen Mahal, was built for her within a Mughal-style garden, a testament to her unique status and the king's affection.

The poignant story of Lala Hardaul, son of Veer Singh Dev and brother of Jujhar Singh. The show recounts the tragic tale of Hardaul, who was falsely accused of an illicit affair with his sister-in-law, Queen Champavati, by his jealous brother Jujhar Singh. To prove his innocence, Queen Champavati was forced to give Hardaul poisoned food.

Hardaul, despite knowing it was poisoned, ate it to protect his sister-in-law's honour. After his death, his innocence was realised. Legend has it that Hardaul's soul continues to bless weddings in Bundelkhand, with the first invitation still sent to his temple. This story emphasises themes of sacrifice, loyalty, and faith.

In addition to specific stories, the show also highlights the architectural grandeur of the Orchha Fort complex, including:

• Raja Mahal: Showcasing its intricate courtyards and pillars.

• Chaturbhuj Temple: Its unique architecture and its connection to the Ram Raja Temple story.

• Chhatris (cenotaphs): The royal chhatris located on the banks of the Betwa River, commemorating the Bundela rulers.

• Phool Bagh: The royal garden with its ancient cooling system.

The show often uses traditional Bundelkhandi music and sounds of nature (such as running horses and lions) to create an immersive atmosphere, reflecting the rich culture and natural beauty of the region.

The Orchha Light and Sound Show presented a blend of historical facts, local legends, and cultural insights for Anand, transforming the ancient fort into a living canvas. For Anand, it became a valuable experience to understand Orchha's glorious past.

Orchha is a vibrant town, while the fort is a major attraction. The town is also bustling, offering opportunities to interact with locals and experience daily life. As it was very late, Anand had dinner outside and came back to the farm to sleep.

Gandharva Vivah

When Anand arrived at Blue Sky Restaurant at seven in the morning, Hukum Singh was already there. After formal morning greetings, we ordered breakfast. Hukum Singh continued his story.

The Harbole, Hukum Singh, began to narrate that the Maharaj was deeply immersed in his internal conflict when, one day, he consulted his most trusted friend, Keshav.

Rai Praveen agreed with Guru Keshav's words, but she was adamant about the condition of marriage. Keshav Das conveyed this to the Maharaj.

The Maharaj asked, "Is it possible for a blacksmith's daughter to marry into the Bundela clan? Is it not impossible? Would it not be against dharma? Would it not diminish the dignity of the royal palace?" Keshav replied in a solemn tone, "Maharaj, the prestige of the royal palace is never higher than your heart. This struggle is not just about love, but against the caste and social laws that prioritise caste and status over love. However, not every love story is easy." Poet Keshav, to resolve the Maharaj's dilemma and protect Rai Praveen's honour, suggested a 'Gandharva-Vivah'.

Anand asked Hukum Singh, "How many types of marriages are there in Hinduism?"

Hukum Singh, referring to the traditions of Sanatana Dharma, said, "Eight types of marital methods are described, among which: The first is Brahma-Vivah, considered the best and most ideal, where the marriage is performed with mutual consent of the bride and groom and according to Vedic rituals.

The second type of marriage is Daiva-Vivah. This marriage is performed for priests or religious ceremonies, in which the daughter is given away by her father after offering a dakshina (offering) or gift to the groom.

The third method of marriage is Arsha-Vivah. This marriage is performed with sages or saints, in which a cow or a bull is given to the daughter's father.

The fourth marriage method is Prajapatya-Vivah. In this marriage, the daughter's father gives away the daughter after instructing the groom to follow the dharma of a householder.

The fifth method is Asura-Vivah, in which the daughter is bought by paying money.

The sixth type is Gandharva-Vivah, also known as a love marriage. In this, the bride and groom unite due to mutual love.

The seventh type is Rakshasa-Vivah, which is performed by forcibly abducting the maiden.

And the eighth and final type is Paishacha-Vivah. This marriage is performed by deceitfully or unconsciously taking the maiden.

Hukum Singh further added, "Currently, only Brahma-Vivah and Gandharva-Vivah are more prevalent, while other types of marriages are rare."

Anand inquired about Gandharva Vivah.

Hukum Singh explained, "Gandharva-Vivah, also considered an ancient form of love marriage, is a union based on mutual love and consent, where the approval of family or society is not mandatory. Gandharva-Vivah is purely a union based on mutual love, consent, and affection between the bride and groom, largely bypassing traditional rituals, parental approval, or social participation."

The word "Gandharva" in Hindu mythology refers to divine musicians or beings known for their love of music, beauty, and often their spontaneous unions. This name suggests a divine and independent form of marriage. During the Rigvedic period, Gandharva-Vivah was one of the popular and accepted forms of marriage, especially among the Kshatriya warrior class. It emphasised the freedom of choice for both men and women.

The fundamental principle of Gandharva-Vivah is that the couple finds each other suitable, falls in love, and decides to live together. Their mutual attraction and consent are the only criteria. It was a private decision between two individuals. Generally, simple promises of love, happiness, and lifelong commitment. A common symbolic act is the exchange of flower garlands (Jaimala). This signifies their acceptance of each other as husband and wife. It can take place in a private setting, such as under a tree, on a riverbank, or in a temple.

The Maharaj's mind was filled with doubts. He asked, "Are there any ancient examples of this marriage available?"

The poet enumerated famous examples of Gandharva-Vivah in the Indian context: "Shakuntala-Dushyanta, Pururava-Urvashi, Vasavadatta-Udayan."

The Maharaj entrusted Keshav Das with the task of convincing Rai Praveen. Earlier, Rai Praveen was against this type of marriage.

The Maharaj had made up his mind to do everything for a single smile from Rai Praveen. A strong resolve appeared in his eyes.

The poet Keshav Das, citing the Maharaja's helplessness and the dignity of the royal position, succeeded in persuading Rai Praveen with his arguments. Poet Keshav Das quietly arranged the Gandharva-Vivah after getting an auspicious time from his friend, an astrologer. Compelled by Rai Praveen's stubbornness, the Maharaj had to perform a Gandharva-Vivah with her.

Rai Praveen's father was sad that the traditions of engagement, maternal worship, departure, chikat, suhagali khilana, tel-baan, kankan-bandhai, kanyadaan, phere, sindoor, mangalsutra, and griha-pravesh, etc., were not observed in his daughter's marriage in the way they traditionally were in Bundelkhandi weddings.

Anand Bhavan: A Palace of Love

Standing in the vast courtyard of Anand Bhavan, Hukum Singh said, "The Maharaj brought her to live in Anand Bhavan with great pomp and show." On this occasion, famous Bundelkhandi sweets like Jalebi, Malpua, and Kalakand ('Raskheer' made from milk and millet with makhua flower extract) were prepared, along with Poori ke Laddoo, Karaunde ka Pakwan 'Anwariya', Thopa Bafauri, Maheri, and other dishes.

The Maharaj gifted Rai Praveen traditional Bundelkhandi women's attire, which included lehenga, choli, and odhani in colours like red and black. The folk dance 'Rai' was organised at the ceremony.

To ensure the faces of the dancing women were visible, two people with torches stood on either side of the dancer. Along with the dance, Mridang, Dholak, Majira, Timki, and occasionally Ramtula were also played. After a day's fatigue, the Maharaj's heart was filled with excitement and enthusiasm in the company of Rai Praveen.

For the Maharaj, Rai Praveen was Orchha's shining gem, and for Rai Praveen, the Maharaj was Shiva Shankar incarnate. Both were complementary to each other. The verses composed by her would fill the Maharaj with emotion. She worshipped the Maharaj as her husband. Every breath of hers was dedicated to the Maharaj, and she was the embodiment of a devoted wife.

The Maharaj wrote a verse about Rai Praveen: 

"Shobha subh saani, paramartha nidhaani deeha. Kalush kripani mani, sab jag jaani hai. Poorav ke poore punya, suni Jai Parveen. Rai teri vaani meri rani, Ganga kaiso paani hai." 

“Her beauty is infused with auspiciousness; she is the ultimate treasure of virtue. A jewel that cuts through sin, known throughout the world. The complete virtues of the past, listen, Jai Praveen. O Rai, your voice, my queen, is like the water of Ganga.”

Anand and Hukum Singh, while talking, had arrived at Anand Bhavan. It is a strange irony that where a man wants to hide his love, a woman wants to reveal it to everyone by giving it social acceptance. A man needs an opportunity to love, and a woman needs a reason.

The bond of love between Maharaj Indrajeet and Rai Praveen was extremely strong. Rai Praveen's poems contain many depictions of Samyog Shringar (the joy of union in love), and the heroine of those songs was Rai Praveen herself, and the hero was King Indrajeet. Although she was a court singer and he was the king, they both yearned for each other.

Along with poems of intense romance, Rai Praveen also composed some wedding songs and Garis (folk songs with teasing lyrics). Rai Praveen created these songs for the court singers to perform at various royal family ceremonies.

The Royal Love Nest

Hukum Singh, pointing towards the palace, explained that the Maharaj had built this Anand Bhavan for Rai Praveen. On the second floor of this three-story palace is a central room, whose walls are adorned with paintings and depictions of Rai Praveen in various forms. Attached to the palace is also a magnificent garden, divided into two parts.

This palace is a grand mansion with small rooms featuring large windows, allowing ample light and air circulation. The palace's semi-underground summer room was designed to keep the air cool. Rai Praveen Mahal is an ideal stronghold of amazing architecture surrounded by nature's beauty. An astonishing view of the Betwa River is visible from one side of the palace. We were exploring the palace rooms, moving from one to another.

The Maharaj had named this palace Anand Bhavan. Beautiful images of singing and dancing were depicted through frescoes. These paintings are a detailed account of Rai Praveen's artistic poses. Various romantic poses illustrate their love story. The second floor was adorned with Indian dance poses. There are several murals inside the palace, depicting the form of Rai Praveen.

The paintings of the King and Rai Praveen dancing in the palace keep this love story alive. A saga of love is written in the palace. In one painting, Rai Praveen appears to be walking towards the prince with flowers, and at a short distance, the prince on horseback is also seen moving towards his beloved.

Here, dance and music echo in the doorways, jharokhas (overhanging enclosed balconies), and every wall, where the tinkling of anklets can be heard. This palace is a unique gift from the Maharaj, dedicated to Rai Praveen's art. Both were deeply immersed in the blissful lake of love. Time was passing at its own pace.

Rai Praveen loved flowers immensely. A very beautiful garden was built outside the palace, whose flowers, bushes, and creeping vines were all unparalleled.

The virtuous Maharaj gave this palace to Rai Praveen. He left no stone unturned in providing her with all comforts and conveniences in Orchha. This building seemed not to belong to Rai Praveen, but to be a part of the celestial realm itself. Poet Keshav Das compared this building to the celestial realm.

Poet Keshav had composed "Kavipriya" for Rai Praveen, which gives a glimpse into her personality. He writes:

 "Rai Praveen ki Sharada, shuchi ruchi rajat ang. Veena pustak Bharati, rajhans yut sang. Vrishabh vahini ang yut, Vasuki lasat Praveen. Siv sang sohe sarvada, Siva ki Rai Praveen." 

“Rai Praveen's Saraswati, with pure grace adorning her limbs. Veena, book, Bharati, accompanied by a royal swan. With the body of a bull-rider, Vasuki shines, Praveen. Always beautiful with Shiva, Rai Praveen of Shiva.”

A Night of Unspoken Desires

Hukum Singh continued with an interesting narration that the guests had departed. They were now alone in the Rang Mahal. The doors were closed from the outside; only guards were patrolling at a distance. The second watch of the night had begun.

Rai Praveen's skin was so soft and fair, as if moonlight had been touched and trapped in glass. Her long hair, her way of walking, and most of all, her eyes. In those eyes, a strange hunger, as if she desired not just love, but something more. Something that would touch her soul, or perhaps engulf someone's soul.

Whispers were circulating among the populace: "Why did the Maharaj marry such a young girl?" Some said, "The king has grown old, but his lust is still young." And someone whispered, "Perhaps this is not a marriage, but a ploy."

The Maharaj was not affected by these whispers. He only wanted Rai Praveen's smile. Rai Praveen was also smiling, with innocence on her face. Inside, she was carefully observing every room, every gaze, and every person. A game had begun in her mind. On the first night, when she was brought to the king's bedchamber, the room was filled with the scent of perfume.

The Maharaj was looking at his face in the mirror. He was wearing a red sheet embroidered with golden threads. His eyes were shining, as if he felt twenty years old. Rai Praveen slowly entered the room. Her gaze was downcast, but inwardly she was understanding every moment. She knew that tonight, only a physical connection was not to be made in the room, but the first step of her future life would be taken.

In the cold night, the moonlight was chilly, but the heartbeats were warm. The Rang Mahal of Anand Mahal witnessed a romantic night tonight. The Maharaj wore light-colored attire, which made him more romantic in the darkness of the night.

His gaze was fixed on a sound. Rai Praveen was approaching with slow steps. A light chunni (scarf) on her head. Her face was as bright as the moon. There was no nervousness or hesitation in her walking pace. Her heart had thought a lot. Now the decision was made. Both stopped in front of each other. There were moments when time itself stopped. The Maharaj extended his hand. Rai Praveen looked at him for a moment, as if asking if he truly had this right.

Then slowly she placed her hand in his. The dampness of their hands, a slight tremor, and the quickening of heartbeats – both felt everything. The Maharaj held her palm for a while. Then slowly pulled her towards him.

Rai Praveen's eyes closed. Her light breaths quickened. Indrajeet took her face in his hands. That face which he had seen from afar until now was now before him, close and more beautiful than reality.

The warmth of her cheeks. The fluttering of her eyelids. Everything was being expressed. She was equally immersed. When his hand first touched Rai Praveen while placing the sweet packet in her pallu, she trembled. That trembling was not fear. It was an acknowledgement. In that trembling was a slight vibration of years of suppressed emotions, restrictions, closed doors, and voiceless sobs. Her soul seemed to be saying, "Yes! Don't stop now."

Both said nothing and quietly sat on the edge of the bed. Sometimes, love completes itself just by sitting close. That night was the first. But it was not the last.

The silence between them in the middle of Anand Mahal had now become a part of the Rang Mahal. There was a different kind of excitement, a different kind of attraction in their meetings. They started communicating not just through words, but also through their silence and each other's heartbeats. Rai Praveen's heart now felt the Maharaj in every movement within the palace.

Her eyes, along with her silence, searched for the Maharaj in every passing moment. And Indrajeet's heart, too, was residing in thoughts of Rai Praveen.

The Maharaj began to shower Rai Praveen with expensive jewels, clothes, and gifts. The Maharaj could not understand why Rai Praveen looked sad despite all this opulence. He would wonder. Was Rai Praveen's heart elsewhere? Why does she stand at the balcony and look out at the royal palace? "Is this the life she wanted?" The Maharaj knew Rai Praveen's answer. It was "No." "I don't just want love, I want soul too." When the Maharaj was not with her, in the silence of the night when everyone slept, Rai Praveen would remain awake. She had only one thought in her mind, that of Indrajeet. Slowly, a sense of insecurity was taking root in her mind.

One night, there was a gathering in the palace. It had no specific purpose. It was just to quicken the heartbeats of the palace. Waves of music, the scent of wine, and melodies fragrant like night-blooming jasmine, but this night was special. This night, their meeting was taking a new turn. The Maharaj did not want to be part of the gathering today.

He quietly went to Rai Praveen's chamber in the Rang Mahal. Rai Praveen was humming something. Her hair was swaying on her back, indicating that she too was feeling something special today. She was looking at her reflection in the mirror.

Her back was towards the Maharaj. As soon as she saw the Maharaj's gaze in the mirror, she suddenly turned. Her heart began to beat loudly. The Maharaj, without saying anything, slowly called her closer. Rai Praveen looked back for a moment. Then she moved forward. Her face was now closer to the Maharaj's.

Her eyes were now looking openly. The sound of music faded, as if everything was happening only between the two of them. The Maharaj felt Rai Praveen with his eyes. Then slowly placed her head on his shoulder.

Rai Praveen closed her eyes. Felt his touch. After resting her head on his shoulder, a strange feeling spread within both of them. That hidden attraction opened its doors.

The Maharaj's fingers intertwined in Rai Praveen's hair. With the light touch of her skin, they began to express their desire. Rai Praveen's breathing quickened, as if she too desired this very moment. Indrajeet looked into Rai Praveen's eyes with a faint smile. Then lightly gestured on her cheeks with his finger. Rai Praveen opened her eyes, and their eyes remained locked. This closeness was now felt in the depths of their hearts. Their heartbeats began to synchronise to the same rhythm.

But for some reason, both stopped. Their attraction was very intense at that moment. Yet both held back their intentions.

There was a complexity. There was a wall standing between the two of them. That wall was of power, of the kingdom, and traditional relationships. The Maharaj knew that if he went down this path, he would need to rethink his future, and Rai Praveen was not familiar with those complexities. They remained silent for a while. Rai Praveen's breathing had slowed, and Indrajeet stepped back.

That moment of their closeness had ended, but a burning ember remained in both their souls, which then turned into fire and then a blaze. Rai Praveen ran and fell into Indrajeet's embrace. All questions vanished. It felt as if the earth and sky had become one. This was not just a meeting. It was a journey, a journey that was going to open a new world between their bodies and hearts.

Now they were not trying to hide their love. There was a strange attraction in both their eyes, which had now deepened even more.

A slight shyness within Rai Praveen filled Indrajeet's heart with freshness. There was a kind of intensity even in her innocence, and that intensity further increased the Maharaj's complete absorption. Now they could not live without each other. This was a pressure.

A fire that had turned into a blaze within both of them. This room in the Rang Mahal had now become a symbol of their desires. The gatherings, music, and the scent of wine in Anand Bhavan no longer mattered to them. Their focus was only on each other. I was astonished by Hukum Singh's knowledge. He was a very unique man. Hukum Singh and Anand had spent the entire day in this building. From the window of this building, Indrajeet Singh's palace was visible.

Anand was astonished by Hukum Singh's knowledge. He was a very unique man. Hukum Singh and Anand had spent the entire day in this building. From the window of this building, Indrajeet Singh's palace was visible. In front, the stream of Betwa glittered like gold in the light of the setting sun. The atmosphere was very romantic. I imagined the era when this love story must have begun.

Hukum Singh said that even today, any couple in love who comes to Orchha visits this place. Anand saw that lovers had carved their names on the walls in many places, as if they all wanted to immortalise their love in this palace of love. Anand thought to himself that one's love cannot be immortalised in a borrowed palace. For that, you have to build your palace.

Bundelkhand

On the first Diwali night, Orchha Naresh King Indrajeet Singh, after performing Ramraja and Lakshmi Puja, informed the doorkeeper that he would be going directly to his beloved Rai Praveen's palace. As soon as the news was received, activity increased in Rai Praveen's palace. The sound of the Dundubhi (a type of drum) welcomed the Maharaj into Rai Praveen's palace. At the door, Rai Praveen's close friend and maid, Mahua, welcomed the Maharaj by applying kumkum and turmeric-rice on his forehead.

The tinkling sound added sweetness to the atmosphere. From inside the palace, the Empress of the Maharaj's heart, the beautiful Rai Praveen, arrived. Hukum Singh looked directly into Anand's eyes, where he could see the threads of love.

At Rai Praveen's behest, the Maharaj closed his eyes. Not even a few moments passed with his eyes closed when the entire courtyard resonated with the sweet melodies of music. The sweet sounds of drums, tabla, and sarangi intoxicated the mind.

The Maharaj, too, became entranced and lost himself in that sweet melody. Except for the musicians, everyone else left the place. The security guards spread around the palace. The entire atmosphere was fragrant with perfume.

Then her nectar-like melody compelled him to open his eyes. As soon as he opened his eyes, he was mesmerised. In front of him, on the platform built in the courtyard of Rai Praveen's palace, a captivating carpet was spread. The entire courtyard was covered with pure moonlight. From the moonlight canopy, various colored chandeliers hung in different places.

The colourful chandeliers hanging in the moonlight illuminated the entire pandal and stage in rainbow colours. On the night of Kartik Amavasya, the whole of Orchha was adorned with rows of lamps, as if moonlight had descended on Earth. From afar, the ramparts of the fort and palaces, and the turrets glittered with millions of lamps, as if an army of fireflies sat in a garden. Then fireworks began in the sky. The sky, which until now had been silently lost in dense darkness, bloomed like a new bride. The reflections of the skyward fireworks created waves of light on the waters of the Betwa. Today, the special adornment of Diwali had enhanced Rai Praveen's beauty fourfold. The Maharaj sat on his special throne.

Rai Praveen's golden waist-belt (kardhani) and the anklets on her feet produced a sweet tinkling sound. In a queen-colored lehenga, chunari, and choli of Chanderi silk, studded with golden threads and stars, and pearls, she looked like a celestial nymph.

Rai Praveen's nose-pin (nakmoti) and nose-ring (nathiya) studded with gems, diamond-and-pearl-studded earrings in her ears, and gem-studded bangles on her wrists were making Rai Praveen's unparalleled youth extremely intoxicating.

The deep red dye (mahavar) on her feet, the dark henna on her hands, were giving her exquisite youth an attractive and divine form. The diamond-and-pearl-studded maang-tika (forehead ornament) hanging on her forehead, from which the light of burning lamps created a rainbow aura. Rai Praveen, overflowing with the intoxication of youth, walked with steady steps. The fragrance of her voluptuous body permeated the entire atmosphere.

Her elephantine gait and flexible waist were giving her the form of Kamadeva's Rati. Her fair-complexioned body shone in the night of Amavasya. Rai Praveen's long braided hair, hanging on her hips, gave the illusion of a black serpent.

Rai Praveen, remaining veiled, bowed her head with folded hands towards the temples of Shri Ramraja, Lord Jugal Kishore, Lord Chaturbhuj, and the ancestral deity of the Bundela dynasty, Vindhyavasini. After turning and bowing to her revered Guru Dev Acharya Keshav Das, she bowed with folded hands to her beloved Maharaj Indrajeet.

The Maharaj, entangled in the enchanting illusion of her captivating beauty, was gazing intently. Rai Praveen not only pleased the Maharaj with her captivating dance but also mesmerised all living beings present.

Indrajeet slowly extended his hand towards Rai Praveen's face, and she felt his intensity. There was no longer any need for words between them. Their eyes and hearts began to converse with each other. Finally, the ceremony ended. The Maharaj and Rai Praveen were now alone in their chamber. Only the sounds of guards walking outside could be heard.

Rai Praveen gave a signal with her eyes, and Indrajeet's lips covered hers. The slight flutter of her eyelids was a sign. This was no longer just love; it had become a fire that had spread through both their bodies and souls.

Every layer of Rai Praveen's skin had a freshness. She felt that in the company of the Maharaj, her talent, which flowed in poetry, dance, and singing, was further blossoming.

King Indrajeet spent more and more time in Anand Bhavan. He narrated the history of Bundelkhand to Rai Praveen so that she could become familiar with the dynasty. Hukum Singh and Anand had returned to their respective places.

Bundelkhand: History, Geography, and Culture

In the evening, Anand was sitting with Sanjay. Today, after dinner, we came out and sat. Sanjay's wife also finished her work and came and sat near us. Anand expressed his desire to learn about the history of Bundelkhand from Sanjay.

Sanjay had almost memorised the history of Bundelkhand. He told me that Maharaj Madhukar Shah had eight sons, among whom Indrajeet was extremely intelligent.

When Prince Indrajeet was sent to Varanasi for studies by his father, the gurus were requested to make him proficient in statecraft. Therefore, it was essential for him to have a deep knowledge of Bundelkhand. As a result, Indrajeet was taught the history of Bundelkhand in great detail.

Anand inquisitively asked Sanjay, "Which part of our country is called Bundelkhand?" Sanjay brought a book from inside, and showing a map on one of its pages, he began to explain: "The boundaries of the Bundelkhand region are defined by the vast plains of the Ganga-Yamuna in the north and the Vindhyachal mountain range in the south. It is a moderately sloping highland." Regarding the boundaries of Bundelkhand, a couplet is popular:

"It Jamuna ut Narmada, it Chambal ut Tose. Chhatrasal se laran ki, rahin na kau hos." 

“Here the Yamuna, there the Narmada, here the Chambal, there the Tose. No one dared to fight Chhatrasal.”

"Why is there so much poverty in this region?" Anand posed his next question.

Sanjay explained that this region receives low monsoon rainfall. Sometimes, the rainfall is so scarce that it leads to drought conditions. Most agriculture is dependent on the monsoon. He said with a laugh, "Due to the scarcity of water in this region, a proverb is prevalent:

"Megh karota le gayo, Indra baandh gayo tek. Bair makora yo kahe, maran na pave ek." 

“The clouds took the bucket. Indra held back the rain. The pests say, not one should die.”

Jowar and Kodo are the main crops here, but when famine strikes, the poor survive by eating only mahua and ber (jujube), which are the favourite foods of the Bundelkhandi people. These two trees are the most popular in this region. Here, mahua is considered a fruit, ber is considered kaleva (morning snack), and gulchul is considered the best sweet. As is clear from this line:

"Maua meva ber kaleva gulchul badi mithai. Itni cheezein chaho to gudane karo sagai." 

“Mahua is fruit, ber is breakfast, gulchul is a great sweet. If you want these many things, then get engaged in Gudana.”

When Sanjay recited these couplets, his natural poetic heart was revealed.

"So what is the history of this region then?" Anand inquired very politely.

He replied, "Bundelkhand, in the distant past, was the land of Shabar, Kol, Kirat, Pulind, and Nishads. These tribes offered strong resistance upon the arrival of the Aryans in Bundelkhand. From the Vedic period until the rule of the Bundelas, over two thousand years, this region was ruled by many castes and dynasties." They influenced the original customs of these castes with their socio-cultural consciousness. Among the various rulers, the Mauryas, Sungas, Shakas, Hunas, Kushanas, Nagas, Vakatakas, Guptas, Kalachuris, Chandels, Afghans, Mughals, Bundelas, Baghelas, Gonds, Marathas, and British were prominent."

Based on the Mahabharata and Raghu-Vansha, it is believed that after Manu came Ikshvaku, and his third son Dandak established his capital in the Vindhya Mountains. Pururava, the son of Budha, is considered a contemporary of Manu. His great-grandson was Yayati.

Whose eldest son Yadu and his son Koshtu were also associated with Chedi (present-day Bundelkhand) during the Janapada period. In the Puranic period, Bundelkhand remained under famous rulers, among whom the Chandravanshi kings had supreme dominance. Thus, the Chedi Janapada of the Puranic age is the ancient Bundelkhand.

The Enigma of Khajuraho and the Chandela Dynasty

As the day was over, I started going to my room to rest, when Sanjay gave me a book to read on Khajuraho. Before resting at night, I started reading it. In the initial chapter of the book, I read:

'In Bundelkhand, a folk legend is prevalent regarding the construction of the Khajuraho temples. It is said that once, Hemvati, the beautiful daughter of the royal priest Hemraj, went to bathe in a pond in the evening. At that very moment, Chandra Dev (the Moon God) saw the extremely beautiful Hemvati bathing, and he was struck by love for her.

At that moment, Chandra Dev appeared before the enchanting Hemvati and requested her for a Gandharva-Vivah. It is believed that a son was born from their sweet union, and that very son founded the Chandela dynasty.

Hemvati, out of fear of society, raised that son in the forest, on the banks of the Karnavati River. The son was named Chandravarmann. In his time, Chandravarmann was considered a very influential king. Chandravarmann's mother, Hemvati, appeared to him in a dream and ordered the construction of temples that would convey the message to society that the fulfillment of sexual desire, after adhering to social rules or scriptural methods, should also be considered as essential as other aspects of life, and the person fulfilling sexual desire should never be considered guilty.' The book began in a very interesting way, making my sleep disappear. I kept reading. 'After Mother Hemvati appeared in a dream, Chandravarmann chose Khajuraho for the construction of the temples. Making Khajuraho his capital, he performed a grand yagna with fifty altars here. Later, fifty temples were built in place of the fifty altars, and their construction was continued by the subsequent kings of the Chandela dynasty.'

The group of temples in Khajuraho seems to have brought the poet's imagination to life on Earth. The sculptor's dream seemed to have come true. Adorned with its massive mandapams, antaralas, amalaka shikhars, anushikhars, and high towers decorated with stupikas, and its countless unique stone sculptures, this temple complex invites visitors to its unparalleled beauty. Both the outer and inner walls of the temples are adorned with beautiful artworks of deities, apsaras, beautiful women, vidyadharas, loving couples, gajas (elephants), and shardulas (mythical lions).

The artistry of the sculptors of Khajuraho is unparalleled. Their female figures are so beautiful that it seems as if the inanimate has awakened with its full glory. There is so much enchantment that one gets the illusion of life throbbing in the stone.

The sculptors of Khajuraho have depicted every form of a woman's life and emotion. Sometimes as a shalabhanjika (a woman holding a tree branch), and sometimes engaging in love-play and sensual pleasures with her lover. Laughing and conversing with friends, breastfeeding children, adorning herself, sleeping, sitting, and standing – in every situation, immersed and ecstatic.

Large, half-closed eyes, raised breasts, heavy hips, many twisted postures, a fluid laugh or smile floating on full lips, a silent invitation of love – these are the main characteristics of female sculpture. The Chandels departed from Khajuraho in the fourteenth century. With that, that era ended. It is a folk legend that during the time of the Chandela kings, the Vamamargi (left-hand path) branch of the Tantric community dominated this region. These people considered both yoga and bhoga (enjoyment) as means to moksha (liberation). The city deity of Khajuraho is Lord Shiva. For this reason, there are one thousand and one Shiva Lingas in one Shiva temple here.

In Anand's dream that night, the stone sculptures of Khajuraho came alive. He was overwhelmed by the influence of that amazing culture.

The next morning, Anand was interested in knowing the history of Bundelkhand. Although when Anand got up and came out of the room, Sanjay was writing something at his desk. Anand greeted him with 'Namaste', and he stood up. Then both sat down. Anand wanted to know about Khajuraho from Sanjay.

Then Sanjay said, "These sculptures are the result of their activities. Mahoba was the centre of the Chandels. After the death of Harshavardhan, the Gaharwars took control of it."

Sanjay ordered his assistant to bring tea for Anand.

Chandels vs. Bundelas: A Tale of Two Dynasties

Anand asked Sanjay, "Are Chandels and Bundelas the same?"

Sanjay replied, "No, they are completely different." The progenitor of the Chandels is considered to be Nannuk. After him comes the name of Vakpati. Vakpati had two sons – Jaishakti and Vijayshakti. Jaishakti was enthroned after Vakpati, and the Bundelkhand region was named "Jejak-Bhukti" after him, and the inhabitants here were called 'Jijhautia'.

Sanjay continued, "The Bundelas were Kshatriya rulers and, in the distant past, were related to the Suryavanshi King Manu. King Karnapal of Varanasi had three sons – Veer, Hemkaran, and Aribrahma. Karnapal had enthroned Hemkaran in his presence. Upon Karnapal's death, the remaining two brothers dethroned Hemkaran and exiled him. Troubled by his brothers, Hemkaran consulted the royal priest Gajadhar. He inspired him to worship Vindhyavasini Devi."

In the worship of Vindhyavasini Devi in Mirzapur, four human sacrifices were offered. The Goddess was pleased and granted a boon to Hemkaran. But the atrocities of Hemkaran's brothers still did not decrease for Hemkaran. Later, he pleased the Goddess by offering another human sacrifice. The Goddess named him 'Pancham' due to the five human sacrifices. After this, he became a devout devotee of Vindhyavasini. In society, he was called "Pancham Vindhyela". "According to another story, when Hemkaran placed a sword on his neck before the Goddess and wished to sacrifice himself, the Goddess stopped him, but five drops of Hemkaran's blood had fallen from the edge of the sword. Due to these, Hemkaran was named 'Pancham Bundela. '"

"So, from where does the period of the Bundelas begin?" Anand's curiosity had reached its peak.

Sanjay explained, "Bundela, Gaharwar, Dhandhere, Chauhan, and Panwar (Parmar) are called the 'Teen Kuri ke Thakur' (Thakurs of three lineages) of Bundelkhand. The 'Teen Kuri ke Thakur' formed a strong alliance and defeated the Khangars of Garhkundar. Thereafter, Garhkundar became the capital of the Bundelas."

"Then when did Orchha become the capital of the Bundelas?" Anand asked Sanjay the question that arose in his mind.

Sanjay said, "The era of the rulers of Orchha begins with Maharaj Rudra Pratap Singh Bundela. Orchha was founded in 1530 AD. Rudra Pratap was extremely shrewd. He formed a friendship treaty with the Tomar kings of Gwalior." "Maharaj Rudra Pratap Singh Bundela shifted his capital from Garhkundar to Orchha, situated on the banks of the Betwa River, during the Rohini constellation. After chasing away Sher Shah Suri, Raja Bharti Chandra Judev's younger brother Madhukar Shah ascended the throne. Thereafter, Madhukar Shah established the independent Orchha state."

Sanjay sadly informed that even climbing one step of development in this region is extremely difficult. Every village in Bundelkhand is tied to tragic stories of hunger and suicides. Frustration, despair, and depression have weakened their fighting spirit, leading them to take drastic steps.

Nevertheless, Bundelkhand's rich cultural heritage and historical significance have made it a popular tourist destination. Bundelkhand has approximately thirty-four forts and historical buildings. Betwa and Dhasan are the major rivers of the Bundelkhand plateau.

Here, instead of the inertia, sadness, and inactivity prevalent in society, a strong inclination towards devotion is particularly observed. That holy current of devotion did not flow with the same intensity in Bundelkhand as it was seen in the Braj region. All kinds of worship systems have been prevalent here.

Goswami Tulsidas was also associated with this region.

The famous poet Rahim also had reverence for the culture of Bundelkhand, which is evident from his saying: 

"Chitrakoot mein ram rahe Rahiman Avadh Naresh. Ja par vipda padat hai so aavat ihi desh." 

“Rahim, the King of Ayodhya, resided in Chitrakoot. Whoever faces calamity comes to this land.”

When Lord Rama faced adversity, he also came to Bundelkhand. Sanjay continued to speak.

Orchha's Ram Raja Temple: A Divine Kingdom

One day, finding an opportunity, Rai Praveen expressed her desire to know about the Orchha dynasty and the city from the Maharaj. Then the Maharaj asked her to inquire about this from the royal poet Keshav Das, as the Maharaj himself did not wish to praise his lineage. Thereafter, Rai Praveen questioned the royal poet.

Keshav Das told her that at that time, the influence of the Bundelas was increasing in Orchha. The kingdom of Gwalior was weakening, while Orchha was prospering greatly due to its location on the trade route from north to south.

The Bundelkhand region was very important. Through it, the route from Deccan to the Yamuna-Ganga Doab passed, but this region was hilly, difficult to traverse, and hard to control. An extremely beautiful city, Orchha, was being carved out of the mountains. Grand palaces, royal residences, markets, and bridges and ghats on the Betwa River were being constructed.

Kanchana Ghat is one of the most famous ghats in Orchha, and it is located within the Orchha Fort complex. The city of Orchha became so prosperous that it is said that when the women of the city cleaned and shined their gold ornaments with sand while bathing at the Betwa Ghat, approximately one and a quarter maunds (a measure of weight) of gold would wear off daily from their ornaments and dissolve into the water. Kanchana Ghat of Betwa got its name for this reason.

Dharamshalas (rest houses), sarais (inns) for merchants, wells and stepwells on the roads, and military outposts for security were built. Every palace, temple, and building constructed in Orchha has its own interesting stories. Among them, the most interesting story is of a temple.

Keshav Das told her a very interesting story. This temple was built for the idol of Lord Rama, but at the time of idol installation, it did not move even an inch from its place.

One day, Orchha Naresh Madhukar Shah Bundela asked his wife Ganesh Kunwar Raje to go to Vrindavan to worship Krishna, but the queen was a devotee of Rama, so she refused to go to Vrindavan. Angrily, the king told her, "If you are such a great devotee of Rama, then go and bring your Rama to Orchha."

The queen reached Ayodhya and, building her hut near Lakshman Kila on the banks of the Saryu River, became absorbed in spiritual practice. During those days, Saint Shiromani Tulsidas was also engaged in spiritual practice in Ayodhya. After receiving blessings from the saint, the queen's devotion grew stronger and stronger.

But the queen did not have a vision of Ram Raja for many months. Finally, she, disheartened, jumped into the middle of the Saryu to give up her life. It was here, in the depths of the water, that she had a vision of Ram Raja. The queen told him her intention.

Ram Raja agreed to come to Orchha, but he laid down three conditions: Firstly, the journey would be on foot; secondly, the journey would only take place during the Pushya Nakshatra; and thirdly, the idol of Ram Raja, once placed at a spot, would not be moved again. Regarding the idol currently present in Orchha, it is said that when Lord Rama was going into exile, he had given a child idol of himself to Mother Kaushalya. Mother Kaushalya used to offer baal bhog (child's food) to it.

When Rama returned to Ayodhya, Kaushalya immersed this idol in the Saryu River. This is the same idol that Ganesh Kunwar Raje found in the middle of the Saryu. The queen sent a message to the king that she was bringing Ram Raja to Orchha. King Madhukar Shah Bundela built the Chaturbhuj Temple at a cost of millions to install the idol of Ram Raja. A golden kalash (urn) weighing one and a quarter maunds was placed atop the temple. When the queen reached Orchha, she placed this idol in her palace. It was decided that at an auspicious time, the idol would be placed in the Chaturbhuj Temple and its prana pratishtha (consecration) would be performed, but this idol of Rama refused to go to the Chaturbhuj Temple.

It is said that Rama came here in his child form, and how could he leave his mother's palace and go to a temple? But after the temple was built, no one could move the idol from its place. Rama is still seated in this palace, and later, an idol of Lord Vishnu was installed in the Chaturbhuj Temple, which was built at a cost of millions for him.

Considering this a miracle of God, the palace itself was given the form of a temple and named Ram Raja Temple. On the day of Vivah Panchami, after their marriage was performed with all grandeur according to rituals, Madhukar Shah, the then ruler of Orchha, fulfilled the promise given by his wife and performed his coronation.

In Bundelkhand, Madhukar Shah, the then ruler of Orchha, is accorded the status of Lord Shri Ram's father, and Maharani Ganesh Kunwar, that of his mother. According to scriptures, it is believed that Lord Shri Ram's father, Maharaj Dasharatha, passed away while fulfilling his vow of dharma, and his coronation could not take place there.

Then, the ruler of Orchha, Madhukar Shah, and Maharani Ganesh Kunwar, fulfilling their duty as parents, completed their responsibility of being a father by performing Lord Shri Ram's coronation in Orchha and gifted the city of Orchha in the coronation. And King Madhukar Shah declared Lord Rama as the king of Orchha and established himself as the acting king. Since then, his descendants have continued this tradition.

Sanjay stated that the famous Kanak Bhavan Temple in Ayodhya was built by the kings of Orchha. To this day, all expenses, from the upkeep of that temple and the appointment of priests to the puja offerings, are borne by the Tikamgarh royal family.

Anand found the idea of declaring Lord Rama as the king of Orchha very wonderful and unique. Nowhere else in the history of the world is there such an example where God himself is the king.

Betwa

In Orchha, the 'Satdhara' of the Betwa River is a unique and scenic spot that enhances the beauty of this historic town. Hukum Singh had brought Anand here today for a boat ride.

Hukum Singh explained that the Betwa River, whose ancient name was Vetravati, is an important river flowing through the states of Madhya Pradesh and Uttar Pradesh in India. It is a major tributary of the Yamuna River. It originates from Kumharagaon in Raisen district of Madhya Pradesh and flows in a north-easterly direction through major cities like Bhopal, Vidisha, Jhansi, and Lalitpur. It is considered the longest river of the Bundelkhand plateau.

Hukum Singh was very happy today. His wife had made him moong ke laddu and thadula. Both were eating them while sitting in the boat. Hukum Singh was telling Anand the story of the river. Orchha was the home of Betwa. "The name Orchha means 'hidden'. The mythological name of Orchha is Tungaranya, as it is the penance ground of Maharishi Tung. Here, Saraswat Rishi taught the Vedas to other sages. Orchha is built on a small island formed by the confluence of the Jamni and Betwa rivers." Today's Orchha is a historical town located in the Niwari district of Madhya Pradesh. This town is entirely situated on the banks of the Betwa River, and it has gained a special identity because of this river. The Betwa River is an integral part of Orchha's natural beauty and presents a mesmerising view along with the palaces and chhatris (royal cenotaphs) here.

Anand asked, "What is Satdhara?"

Hukum Singh explained, "In Orchha, the Betwa River divides into seven different channels (streams) at a particular spot. Orchha is a mythological and historical town situated on a seven-mile rampart. Here, the river divides into seven streams; this seven-stream division of the river is known as "Satdhara."

Anand asked the next question, "What is the significance and legend of Satdhara?"

Hukum Singh explained, "This river has historical significance. According to local legend, this Satdhara was created in honour of Orchha's seven then-prominent chiefs or kings. It is a symbol, in a way, of the memory of those rulers and their reign."

Satdhara is full of extremely enchanting natural beauty. Here, the river's currents scatter and flow in small channels, creating a peaceful and beautiful environment. At sunset, when the reflection of Orchha's royal chhatris is seen in the calm currents of the Betwa River, this scene is breathtaking and unforgettable. It is a major tourist attraction. It also has spiritual significance. Many people consider the Betwa River sacred, and this division of the river at Satdhara provides a special spiritual experience.

Anand noticed that tourists visiting Orchha were spending time on the ghats built along the Betwa River. They were enjoying boat rides and feeling the calm flow of the river near Satdhara.

Anand found this place a paradise for photography and nature lovers. Especially in photography, the half-hour before sunrise and sunset is called the 'Golden Hour'. This is when the sun's rays, being parallel to the horizon, create a different scene. At this time, the redness of the sky paints various pictures on the river water.

The Satdhara of the Betwa River in Orchha is not just a natural landform; it is an important symbol of Orchha's history, culture, and natural beauty, which attracts every visitor.

The Tale of Vetravati

In the heart of Bundelkhand, where the Betwa River flows like a silver ribbon through ancient land, lay the kingdom of Orchha. Stories arrived on the gusts of wind through its rugged hills and dense forests, but none were more captivating than the story of Rai Praveen. She was not born of royal blood, but a descendant of grace that surpassed any lineage.

One day, Rajkavi Keshav Das, while narrating the story of the Betwa River to Rai Praveen, told her that the Betwa is called 'Kalau Ganga Vetravati Bhagirathi' in the Puranas. The Betwa River, known in ancient times as Vetravati, is an important river flowing through central and northern India. Betwa is considered one of the ancient rivers. The urban civilisation of the Betwa River valley is approximately five thousand years old. At one time, certainly, bamboo ('vetra' in Sanskrit) must have grown here like in Bengal; only then would the river have been named Vetravati. Vetravati has irrigated the entire Bundelkhand with its playful currents.

According to a story mentioned in the Puranas, a king named 'Singh Dweep' performed severe penance to Varun to take revenge on Devraj Indra. Pleased with the king, Varun's wife Vetravati appeared before him in the form of a human river and said, "I, Vetravati, Varun's wife, have come to obtain you."

Vetravati said, "A man who does not accept a woman who has come out of desire for self-enjoyment goes to hell and commits a great sin. Therefore, O Maharaj! Please accept me."

The king accepted Vetravati's prayer. Then, in due course, a son as radiant as twelve suns was born from Vetravati's womb, who became known as Vritrasura. He defeated Devraj Indra and fulfilled King Singh Dweep's wish.

Betwa is Yamuna's friend, her sister. Betwa's birthplace is truly a wonderful, joyful, and comfortable land for the weary traveller. Vetravati assumes three forms in her life's journey. In her paternal home, i.e., Bhopal, at her origin, living a restrained life, and in Orchha, in her best form, whenever people see Betwa, they are not untouched by its unique influence.

Cities Along the Betwa

Bhojpur is located near Bhopal, situated on the banks of the Betwa River. It is famous for the magnificent Bhojeshwar Mahadev Temple, an incomplete Shiva temple. Built during the reign of King Bhoj of the Parmar dynasty, this temple is known for its colossal Shivlingam, carved from a single stone. This site also contains the ruins of a large dam built by King Bhoj to create a vast artificial lake, showcasing his advanced engineering vision. The carvings on the surrounding rocks are believed to be architectural drawings for the temple and other structures planned for this site. These cities and sites collectively showcase the rich tapestry of Indian history, encompassing ancient Buddhist and Hindu civilisations to medieval Rajput and Mughal influences, all nurtured by the life-giving waters of the Betwa River.

The ancient city of Besnagar (later known as Vidisha) was located on the western bank of the Betwa River. The modern city of Vidisha is on the eastern bank. Vidisha has a very old history, dating back centuries before Christ. It is also mentioned in the Ramayana. After the Mauryas, Vidisha saw the rule of various dynasties, including the Shungas, Kanvas, Nagas, Vakatakas, Guptas, and Parmars.

Banabhatta has given a wonderful description of Vindhyatavi in 'Kadambari': 'During bathing in the Vetravati River flowing around Vidisha, its waves would be shattered by the striking of the breasts of the pleasure-seeking women, and its water would turn red like the evening sky due to the spreading of vermilion from the foreheads of foreign women brought by the guards for bathing. It's bank was always reverberating with the clamour of intoxicated swan flocks.' Shatrughna's son Shatrughati ruled Vidisha, whose capital was Kushavati. Maurya Emperor Ashoka married Sridevi, the daughter of a prominent merchant of Vidisha. Sridevi was a resident of Vidisha, and according to her wishes, Emperor Ashoka built a stupa vihara and a monolithic pillar here. He had a son, Mahendra, and a daughter, Sanghamitra, with Sridevi.

Sanchi is located just west of the Betwa River. Despite not being directly on the river, its historical significance is closely linked to the area irrigated by the Betwa. Sanchi is world-famous for its Buddhist monuments, especially the Great Stupa. The Great Stupa was originally built by Emperor Ashoka the Great. Later, the Satavahana rulers made significant contributions by building intricately carved gateways called toranas around the stupas. Sanchi has the world-famous Buddhist stupa, where Buddhist monks and devotees from around the world come for worship, meditation, and darshan. Sanchi is also known as Kakanaya, Kakanad Vote, Vote Shri Parvat. Sanchi also has antiquities from both the Hinayana and Mahayana branches of Buddhism. This site reflects a continuous artistic tradition spanning centuries.

Chanderi is located southwest of the Betwa River, surrounded by hills, forests, and lakes. This is where Chanderi is situated. The history of Chanderi is linked to the 11th century, and its mention is also associated with King Shishupala of the Mahabharata. Its strategic location on ancient trade routes at the border of Malwa and Bundelkhand made it an important military and commercial outpost. It saw the rule of various dynasties, including the Gurjara-Pratiharas, Malwa Sultans, and Bundela Rajputs. The city is famous for its fort Kirti Kila, palaces, stepwells (like Battisi Baori), and ancient Jain temples, which reflect its rich cultural and architectural heritage. Chanderi is also globally renowned for its traditional handloom industry, especially the exquisite Chanderi sarees.

Decline and Enduring Legacy

Keshavdas explained that the strategic location of the fort, surrounded on three sides by the Betwa River, provides natural protection, making it an ideal site for the state's stronghold. The Bundela kings built this palace on the Betwa River, which extols the bravery, valour, and heroic glorious tales of the kings. Within the Orchha palace are many ancient temples, including the Chaturbhuj Temple, Ramraja Temple, and Lakshminarayan Temple, which are paradigms of the Bundela rulers' love for art.

After hearing the history of Bundelkhand from Sanjay, Anand was now able to connect the threads of Hukum Singh's stories. Anand asked Hukum Singh about the city of Orchha, and he said that his life had been spent playing in these places, so every single spot is etched in his mind.

Anand asked, "Why did the Bundelkhand state get divided into small jagirs?"

Hukum Singh recalled, "Madhukar Shah had eight sons, so he divided his kingdom into eight jagirs and gave one jagir to each of them. After Madhukar Shah's death, his eldest son Ramshah, upon seeking forgiveness from the emperor, was made the ruler of Orchha, but due to his lack of interest in state affairs, he handed over his throne to Indrajeet Singh. Veer Singh Ju Dev. I received the jagirs of Barouni, and Indrajeet Singh received Kachhua."

All states like Datia, Chanderi, Ajaygarh, Panna, Charkhari, Banda, and Bijawar were formed from the fragmentation of the Orchha dynasty. Gradually, the Bundelkhand state was divided into small jagirs. Over time, wherever the princes of the Orchha dynasty were given jagirs, they established their independent states there. Due to the division of the Bundelkhand, Orchha state, among eight sons into small jagirs, most kings had to form alliances with the Mughals for security reasons.

A question arose in Anand's mind: why did Orchha's trade route disappear? He asked this question. Hukum Singh said, "During this time, anarchy, looting, and guerrilla warfare continued throughout Bundelkhand, which affected the trade route passing through here. Due to lack of security, the use of this trade route gradually decreased."

Hukum Singh sadly stated that the rulers who were supposed to provide security started sheltering looters. Due to a lack of employment opportunities in this region, migration increased. In terms of economic backwardness, Bundelkhand ranks highest on the map of India.

The oldest palace within the fort, the Raja Mahal, was built by King Rudra Pratap Singh. Its outer walls are adorned with vibrant frescoes depicting religious themes and scenes of daily life, while the interior features beautifully carved windows, balconies, and ceilings.

Anand found the idea of cycling around Orchha with Harbole very useful. Anand and Hukum Singh were very tired after seeing all this, so they went to their respective accommodations to rest.

Seeing an opportunity to sit with Sanjay, Anand came and sat near him. Today, a group of foreign tourists had stopped at Sanjay's farm. Sanjay was very busy looking after their arrangements. Food was cooked on the farm today in a traditional Bundelkhandi style, and its taste was very different.

Upon Anand's inquiry, Sanjay's wife said that this taste came from cooking in clay pots. The dal was tempered with clarified butter. The rotis were made from local rice and Sharvati wheat flour, and the kadhi was made from buttermilk prepared from cow's milk.

Everyone, along with the foreign group, sat down and ate on dona pattal (leaf plates). Rice kheer made with cow's milk was prepared. Sweets of kalakand and chironji barfi were served. Poori ke laddu is a unique sweet made from puris of wheat or gram flour; it tastes different from boondi ke laddu. Slightly thick puris made of flour are fried. These fried puris are finely crushed by hand. Then they are sieved and lightly roasted in a little ghee. Now, sugar or jaggery syrup (solution) is added, and laddus are formed by hand. To enhance the taste, cardamom or black pepper powder was mixed in. This food was very delicious.

Barahmasa

 A Year of Festivals in Orchha

Arrangements were made to organise Indian classical folk dance programs in Anand Bhavan. On this ideological basis, Anand started celebrating festivals in Anand Bhavan. The tradition of celebrating festivals throughout the year began in Rai Praveen's Anand Bhavan, which is called Barahmasa. This is a wonderful concept of the poets of the Ritikal period. Barahmasa became a folk tradition in Bundelkhand. Anand asked Hukum Singh, "What is this Barahmasa?"

Hukum Singh explained, "Rai Praveen was taught Barahmasa by Keshavdas. In Barahmasa, a virahini, meaning a woman overwhelmed with love, yearns for her lover over twelve months. In this Barahmasa, the heroine employs a clever tactic to avoid becoming a virahini in the first place. She tells her lover about various festivals or special qualities associated with each month so that the hero does not leave her and go abroad. Rai Praveen used all means to keep the Maharaj by her side. It was essential for the Maharaj to be present at every festival."

Hukum Singh said that all these festivals are still celebrated with the same enthusiasm in Bundelkhand today as they were during Rai Praveen's time. Each festival has its worship method, the story of its blessings, and associated folk songs, which women sing as a collective chant. Bundelkhand's cultural heritage is vibrant and unique because of these. Hukum Singh began to describe each festival:

Gangaur/Ganaur (Chaitra Shukla Tritiya)

Gangaur is primarily a women's festival, celebrated on the Tritiya (third day) of the bright half of the Chaitra month, as the worship of Goddess Gauri (Parvati) and Lord Shiva (Eesar). This festival was new to Anand. He asked, "Are Gangaur and Ganaur the same festival?" Hukum Singh replied, "Yes, it is called Gangaur in Rajasthan and Ganaur in Bundelkhand." In Anand Bhavan, this festival was fragrant with the smell of fresh gulgule (sweet fritters) and marigolds. Women, including Rai Praveen and her friend Meera, would fast for several days, water the 'Ganaur ki Kheti' (sprouted wheat and barley), and sculpt beautiful clay figures of Eesar-Gauri. Rai Praveen's hands would be adorned with intricate mehndi designs. While colouring the idol of Gauri, they would hum traditional songs like "Gote ki chunari Gora, Eesar ji laye...", wishing for a devoted husband like Shiva. In the evening, women would perform 'Ghumar' or 'Gauri Nritya' (dance) balancing the idols on their heads, which is a beautiful and circular movement dance. Meera also joined the circle, praying for her husband's long life. This is a celebration of womanhood, tradition, and unwavering faith, which finally concludes with the immersion of the idols and promises happiness for the coming year.

Chaiti Poonam (Chaitra Purnima)

Hukum Singh explained, "Chaiti Poonam, also known as Chaitra Purnima, is an important festival of Bundelkhand, celebrated on the full moon day of the Chaitra month. In Anand Bhavan, Rai Praveen prepares for this festival. On this day, seven small pots are colored and decorated with lime and chalk, and filled with laddu; they are worshipped according to rituals. Women sing songs like 'Chait mahina aayo re, man mora harsayo re...'. This festival celebrates the joy of harvest and the beauty of nature. In the evening, the main event of Rai Nritya takes place in the large ground of Anand Bhavan." Rai Praveen and other experienced artists, in their sparkling costumes, would perform agile steps, spinning like 'mustard seeds' to the beats of dholak, nagara, and manjira. Folk songs like "Chait ki pounau aayi re, sakhi, man mein umang samai re!" (The full moon of Chaitra has come, friend, the heart is filled with joy!) and "Mori Gaura Maiya, aao angana, Shiv sang biraji aao ji!" (Oh my Mother Gaura, come to the courtyard, come seated with Shiva!) would resonate throughout the night. This festival, lasting until morning, was a vibrant display of the soul of Bundelkhand, its culture, and its exhilaration.

Asamai (Vaishakh Shukla Dwitiya)

Hukum Singh explained, "Asamai is a unique festival of Bundelkhand, celebrated on Vaishakh Shukla Dwitiya (second day of the bright half of Vaishakh). This festival is observed as a fast for the accomplishment of tasks. In Anand Bhavan, on this day, a square is drawn, a puppet is made with white sandalwood on a betel leaf, and four cowrie shells are placed and worshipped. Seven 'Aasein' (boiled dishes of flour) are offered as naivedya. In the evening, the courtyard of Anand Bhavan comes alive with Bundelkhandi dance troupes." Rai Praveen's 'Bedaniyan' (dancers) perform Rai dance with lightning speed in their sparkling ghagra-choli. Their ghungroos produce sweet sounds with every beat. Male artists play the dholak and nagara in rhythm. Songs like "Asamai Maiya, vardan de ja, ghar-ghar khushiyaan bhar de ja!" (Oh Mother Asamai, grant blessings, fill every home with happiness!) would echo. This festival symbolises the confluence of nature and culture, creating an unforgettable blend of colours, sounds, and traditions in Anand Bhavan.

Akati (Vaishakh Shukla Tritiya)

Hukum Singh explained, "Akati, also known as Akshaya Tritiya or Akha Teej, is an important festival of Bundelkhand celebrated on the Tritiya (third day) of the bright half of the Vaishakh month. It is a confluence of new beginnings, prosperity, and childhood traditions. Boys fly kites and girls play with dolls. 'Ghaelon' (small pots) filled with puris, pakoras, and sattu are donated. In Anand Bhavan, a grand cultural evening is organised on this day, where the dance of the royal dancer and poetess Rai Praveen is the centre of attraction. She comes on stage wearing a deep red ghagra and presents Rai dance, singing songs like "Akati aayi, khushiyaan laayi, khetan mein hariyali chhaayi" (Akati has come, brought happiness, greenery has spread in the fields!)." Her dance was a unique blend of agility and emotionality, which mesmerised the audience. This festival is a living proof of Bundelkhand's cultural richness and the unwavering faith of its people.

Bada Barsat (Jeth Krishna Amavasya)

Hukum Singh explained, "Bada Barsat, also known as Vat Savitri Vrat, is celebrated in Bundelkhand on Jeth Krishna Amavasya (new moon day of the dark half of Jyeshtha). On this day, married women worship the Banyan tree for the long life and happiness and prosperity of their husbands and listen to the story of Sati Savitri. In Anand Bhavan, this festival is filled with devotion and joy, where women circumambulate the Banyan tree singing songs like 'Jug jug hum nahin ho baat, ho saatu janam rahe sajna ke saath ho' (May we never be separated for ages, may we stay with our beloved for seven births)." Maharaj Indrajeet Singh himself would be present at this festival. In the evening, Rai Praveen would present a special dance for the Maharaj. She would come on stage wearing a deep blue and green ghagra and dance to devotional songs like "Vat ki chhaya, sheetal kaya, Savitri ne jeevan paaya" (The shade of the banyan, a cool body, Savitri found life). This festival signifies the deep bond of nature, family, and tradition.

Kunghusun Pounam (Ashadh Shukla Purnima)

Hukum Singh explained, "Kunghusun Pounam is celebrated in every household in Bundelkhand as the worship of new brides on Ashadh Shukla Purnima (full moon day of the bright half of Ashadh). On this festival, the mother-in-law makes four puppets on the wall with turmeric. She worships them and wishes for her daughters-in-law's homes to be filled with wealth and children. In Anand Bhavan, this festival was celebrated amidst the full bloom of nature and lush green crops. In the presence of Maharaj Indrajeet Singh, the courtyard of Anand Bhavan would light up with lamps and torches. Rai Praveen would present dance and singing on this occasion. She would come on stage wearing a green and golden ghagra and sing devotional folk songs like "Kunghusun Pounam aayi re, man mein umang samai re" (Kunghusun Pounam has come, the heart is filled with joy!), followed by her unique dance. Her dance depicted the beauty of nature and the valour of Bundelkhand, making this festival even more memorable.

Hari-Jot (Sawan Amavasya)

Hukum Singh explained, "Hari-Jot is a popular agricultural-based festival of Bundelkhand, celebrated on Sawan Amavasya (new moon day of Shravana). It signifies respect for agriculture and nature, where people dedicate and worship green plants to protect their crops. In this, girls are worshipped to show respect for them. In Orchha, this was a royal tradition. Maharaj Indrajeet Singh and Rai Praveen led this festival. The palace courtyard would be adorned with green leaves and flowers. Rai Praveen herself would sow barley and wheat seeds (jot) in clay pots. In the evening, a devotional procession would take place, where women walked with 'jot' pots on their heads, singing songs like "Hari-jot jagi, Hari-jot jagi, dharti maiya aaj saji" (Hari-jot has awakened, Hari-jot has awakened, Mother Earth is adorned today). The palace dancers would present a dance depicting respect for the earth and the tenderness of nature. This festival symbolises Bundelkhand's deep faith and its unbreakable connection with nature.

Nag Panchami (Sawan Panchami)

Hukum Singh explained, "Nag Panchami is an important festival of snake worship in Bundelkhand, celebrated on the Panchami (fifth day) of the Sawan month. On this day, people offer milk, curd, and popped grains to the snake deity and worship snake pits. In Anand Bhavan, this festival is celebrated with great enthusiasm in the presence of Maharaj Indrajeet Singh. From morning, worship takes place in the palace's snake temple. In the evening, a grand event of Bundelkhandi folk songs and dance is organised in the courtyard of Anand Bhavan." Singers sing enthusiastic songs like "Yeh Nag Panchami jhammak-jham, yeh dhol-dhamaka dhammak-dam" (This Nag Panchami with its shimmering, this drum with its thumping). Dancers, both male and female, dance with lightning speed in their sparkling costumes. Their steps and gestures depict the power and agility of the snake deity, as if the hiss of a python can be heard. This festival is a living testament to devotion to the snake deity and the rich cultural heritage of Bundelkhand.

Raksha Bandhan (Shravan Purnima)

Hukum Singh explained - Raksha Bandhan is celebrated in Bundelkhand on Shravan Purnima (full moon day of Shravana), where sisters offer rakhis to their brothers and seek a promise of protection from them. Nowadays, sisters tie rakhis and brothers give gifts. In Anand Bhavan, Maharaj Indrajeet Singh celebrates this festival with full enthusiasm. In the morning, the Maharaj gets rakhis tied by his sisters and the poor girls of the state and presents them with gifts. In the evening, a grand cultural evening is held in Anand Bhavan, where Rai Praveen showcases her art. Raksha Bandhan was also celebrated every year at Anand's house. His two sisters always tied him rakhis. There was always a quarrel with his sisters on every festival about what gift to give them, which he could never resolve without his mother intervening. Rai Praveen dances while singing emotional folk songs like "Bhai-bahin ko pyar hai anmol, Rakhi ko dhaga hai anmol" (The love of brother and sister is priceless, the thread of Rakhi is priceless). Her Rai dance depicts the sacred bond of siblings and the deep connection of Bundelkhand's culture. This festival not only represents family love but also the unbreakable bond between the Maharaj and his subjects.

Harchhath (Bhadrapada Krishna Shashthi)

Hukum Singh explained, "Harchhath, also known as Baldev Chhath, Lalhi Chhath, or Halshashthi, is an important Bundeli festival celebrated by mothers for the long life and good health of their children. It falls on Bhadrapada Krishna Shashthi (sixth day of the dark half of Bhadrapada), two days before Janmashtami. It is also celebrated as the birth anniversary of Lord Balarama, whose weapon is the plough. On this day, women observe a waterless fast, and it is forbidden to eat grains from ploughed land, cow's milk-curd, etc. Only mahua is offered as bhog (offering). Harchhath is worshipped, made from kansa-kusa and jujube thorns. Anand Bhavan would be filled with devotion and peace on Harchhath day. The palace courtyard would be decorated with flowers and auspicious flags. Small symbolic ploughed fields would be made by symbolically ploughing. Women in traditional attire would sing devotional songs in groups like "Mahua hi bhog lagaye, aaya bhadon ka mahina..." (Only mahua is offered as bhog, the month of Bhadon has come...) and "Halshashthi aayi re, maiya, putran ko aashish de ja..." (Halshashthi has come, Mother, bless the sons...). Rai Praveen herself would lead this festival. She would fast for the welfare of the children of her state. She would participate in the puja. In the evening, women of the royal family and the public would gather in the palace courtyard. To the slow, rhythmic beats of dholak and manjira, the women would perform a collective dance, which was filled with more emotion and devotion. Their dance reflected a mother's love, respect for the earth, and unwavering faith in their children. Some women danced with water pots on their heads, symbolising the nourishment of life. Rai Praveen's participation infused new energy into the celebration. This festival depicts the sacrifices of mothers and their devotion to nature and the deities.

Janmashtami (Bhadrapada Krishna Ashtami)

Janmashtami, called 'Kanhaiya-Aathe' in Bundelkhand, is celebrated with full enthusiasm and devotion on Bhadrapada Krishna Ashtami (eighth day of the dark half of Bhadrapada) as the birth anniversary of Lord Krishna. Once, Anand had gone to Mathura Vrindavan with his maternal uncle to see this festival. Anand Bhavan was submerged in a sea of devotion on Janmashtami. Sweet sounds of conch shells and bells came from every corner of the palace. The courtyard was grandly decorated with flowers, flags, and tableaux depicting the childhood लीलाs (divine plays) of Lord Krishna. Maharaj Indrajeet Singh himself would perform puja, swing baby Krishna in the cradle, and pray for the happiness and prosperity of his subjects. At midnight, as the auspicious time for Krishna's birth arrived, the entire building would resound with slogans of "Haathi Ghoda Palki, Jai Kanhaiya Lal Ki!" (Elephants, horses, palanquins, victory to Lord Krishna!) and the blowing of conch shells. On this occasion, Orchha's royal court dancer Rai Praveen gives a special performance. She comes on stage in a deep blue ghagra and a choli adorned with peacock feathers. Her performance begins with an emotional Bundelkhandi folk song like "Aaj janme hain Kanha, ghar-ghar mein khushiyaan chhain..." (Krishna is born today; happiness has spread in every home...). After this, she presents her unique 'Nritya' (dance). Where her agile steps and expressions depict the mischievous plays of child Krishna and the love of the gopis. Her dance and singing are a wonderful blend of devotion and art, which mesmerises the audience. Maharaj Indrajeet Singh also enjoys her art and feels pleased. This festival is not only a living testament to devotion to God but also to Bundelkhand's rich cultural heritage.

Teeja/Kajari Teej (Bhadrapada Shukla Tritiya)

'Teeja' or 'Kajari Teej' is an important festival celebrated by married women in Bundelkhand on Bhadrapada Shukla Tritiya (third day of the bright half of Bhadrapada) for the long life and prosperity of their husbands. Women observe a waterless fast and stay awake all night. Teej festival in Orchha (public event): This time, at the initiative of Maharaj Indrajeet Singh and Rai Praveen, this festival was organised not in Anand Bhavan but in a large public ground in the city for poor and deprived women. The ground was decorated with colourful flags and swings. Women happily swung, and the air was fragrant with the smell of mehndi. In the afternoon, dishes and sweets were brought from the palace and everyone was fed. Anand's mother used to celebrate the Teej festival with neighbourhood women at home, where neighbourhood boys would pluck flowers and leaves to make a small canopy. In the evening, Rai Praveen comes on stage, adorned in a deep green and golden ghagra. She begins her performance with an emotional Kajari song like "Kajari Teej aayi, sakhiyaan jhoola jhoolen..." (Kajari Teej has come, friends swing on swings...). Her sweet voice describes the joy of Teej and the love of Sawan. After this, she presents her unique dance, where her agile steps and swirling lehenga create the illusion of a blooming flower. After Rai Praveen, local artists also presented traditional Bundelkhandi folk songs and dances. This festival not only kept traditions alive but was also a beautiful example of the Maharaj's generosity and social harmony, where every section of society together enjoyed art and culture.

Risi Panche (Bhadrapada Shukla Panchami)

Hukum Singh explained, 'Risi Panche' or Rishi Panchami is celebrated by women on Bhadrapada Shukla Panchami (fifth day of the bright half of Bhadrapada) to express devotion to the Saptarishis (Seven Sages) and to atone for sins committed knowingly or unknowingly. Anand Bhavan remained filled with peace and devotion on this day. The courtyard was adorned with flowers and sacred plants. Symbolic idols of the Saptarishis were installed, where women bathed and worshipped with holy water and medicinal plants. Maharaj Indrajeet Singh himself performed puja and sought blessings for the welfare of the state. In the evening, the royal court dancer Rai Praveen gave a devotional performance. She came on stage in a simple costume of white and light yellow. Her performance began with a folk song like "Risi Panche aayi re, man mein bhakti chhaayi..." (Risi Panche has come, devotion has spread in the heart...), which describes the glory of the sages and purification. Her dance was not as fast as Rai's, but it had more restraint and spiritual depth, depicting penance and the blessings of the sages. This festival is a symbol of devotion to the sages and Bundelkhand's spiritual faith, which is celebrated with peace and sanctity in Anand Bhavan.

Mahalaxmi (Ashwin/Kwar Krishna Ashtami)

The 'Mahalaxmi' festival is celebrated on Ashwin/Kwar Krishna Ashtami (eighth day of the dark half of Ashwin) by married women and mothers to worship Goddess Mahalaxmi, the deity of wealth, prosperity, and good fortune. On this day, along with Mahalaxmi, elephants are also worshipped, and a special dish called 'Sura Thatthera' is made. The ritual involves bathing sixteen times in a river or pond and eating sixteen suras after the puja. Anand Bhavan glowed with the aura of wealth and prosperity on Mahalaxmi festival. The courtyard was grandly decorated with colourful streamers, flowers, and lotus flowers. Clay elephant idols were installed at the main worship place, on which Goddess Mahalaxmi was seated. Rai Praveen herself led this festival and concluded the sixteen-day Mahalaxmi fast. In the evening, women of the royal family and the public gathered. Sweet Bundelkhandi folk songs like "Mahalaxmi aayi, ghar-ghar mein khushiyaan chhaai, haathi pe baithi maiya, barkat laayi" (Mahalaxmi has come, happiness has spread in every home, Mother seated on an elephant, brought blessings) and "Aa jaiyo maiya, aa jaiyo maiya, nau din ki mehman banke aa jaiyo" (Come, Mother, come, Mother, come as a guest for nine days) echoed. Women performed collective dances to these songs. Which was a beautiful confluence of devotion, joy, and collective energy. Rai Praveen also joined in this music and dance, filling everyone with enthusiasm. This festival symbolises the worship of deities for the prosperity and happiness of the family.

Naurta/Suwata (Ashwin Shukla Pratipada)

Hukum Singh explained, 'Naurta, also called 'Suwata', is a unique and colourful Bundeli festival celebrated by unmarried girls for nine days starting from Ashwin Shukla Pratipada (first day of the bright half of Ashwin). Girls wish for a good husband and a happy married life in their future. Preparations for Navratri would begin even before Navratri. In Anand Bhavan or in the village chaupals (community platforms), girls would make 'Suwata' (a large, gigantic idol) from cow dung and clay, which would be decorated with gram dal, jowar, and colourful flowers. Girls would worship 'Suwata' every morning, offering turmeric, akshat (rice grains), and flowers, and offering 'Athwa Panjiri' as bhog. Anand did not know about this festival before. From Hukum Singh's description, he got a glimpse of the festival. Girls would sing traditional Naurta songs in sweet voices in groups, such as "Naay Himanchal ju ki kunwar ladauti, nare Suwata, Gaura Devi kwanre mein neha tora." (The daughter of King Himachal, Suwata, Goddess Gaura, broke her affection in her maidenhood.) During Naurta, girls would perform simple, innocent, and devotional dances, swirling in a circle, clapping their hands, and tapping their feet rhythmically. During this, they also worshipped 'Mamuliya' (jujube branches decorated with flowers). The festival concluded on Sharad Purnima with the marriage of 'Tesu-Jhinjhia' and the distribution of puffed rice and jaggery sweets. This festival depicts the vibrancy of Bundelkhand's folk culture and its unique identity, which was celebrated every year in Anand Bhavan.

Dasrao (Dussehra - Ashwin Shukla Dashami)

Hukum Singh explained, 'Dasrao' (Dussehra) is celebrated on Ashwin Shukla Dashami (tenth day of the bright half of Ashwin) as a symbol of the victory of righteousness over unrighteousness, truth over falsehood, and Lord Rama's victory over Ravana. Anand Bhavan was filled with an atmosphere of enthusiasm and victory on Dussehra. Maharaj Indrajeet Singh himself celebrated this festival with royal grandeur. In the morning, he would perform 'Shastra Puja' (weapon worship) of the ancient weapons of his lineage in the armoury. He would wash them with Ganges water and decorate them with sandalwood paste, kumkum, and flowers. After this, royal horses and elephants were also worshipped. In the evening, Maharaj Indrajeet Singh, mounted on his royal horse, would lead a grand procession with soldiers, courtiers, and subjects. The procession would reach the outer ground of the city, where giant effigies of Ravana, Meghnad, and Kumbhakarna stood. The Maharaj's fiery arrow would set the effigies ablaze, and the entire sky would resound with the thunder of firecrackers and shouts of "Jai Shri Ram!" When Anand was young, his father used to take him to see the burning of Ravana. Being a child, he couldn't see Ravana in the crowd from afar. Then his father would lift him onto his shoulders and show him the burning of Ravana. After the burning of Ravana, a royal feast and 'Gita-Sangeet' (music and singing) and 'Nritya' (dance) program would be held in Anand Bhavan. Rai Praveen would give a special performance dedicated to victory and joy. She would come on stage in a glittering, festive costume and sing enthusiastic folk songs like "Dasrao aayo, khushiyaan chhaai, Ram ji ne Ravana maaro, jeet hamari aayi" (Dussehra has come, happiness has spread, Rama killed Ravana, our victory has come). Her dance was full of lightning agility and a display of power, which mesmerised the audience. This festival is a living testament to Bundelkhand's rich cultural heritage, its valour, and the unbreakable bond between the Maharaj and his subjects.

Sharad Purnima (Ashwin Purnima)

Sharad Purnima is celebrated on the full moon day of Ashwin. It is believed that on this night, the moon, full of its sixteen kalas (phases), showers nectar, which provides health and peace. From this day, Kartik Snan (ritual bathing) begins in Bundelkhand. Anand Bhavan was steeped in a calm, sacred, and magical atmosphere on Sharad Purnima. The courtyard was grandly decorated with white and golden flowers, strings of pearls, and countless lamps. In the centre, vessels filled with kheer (rice pudding) were placed on an altar so that they could absorb the moon's nectar-like rays throughout the night. Anand remembered the Shiva temple in his neighbourhood, where he had eaten this kheer as prasad. This description illustrates how deeply cultural and religious these festivals were celebrated in Anand Bhavan, and how artists like Rai Praveen played a central role in these celebrations. Anand feels how prosperous the Orchha state must have been.

Dhanteras (Kartik Krishna Trayodashi)

Dhanteras is the first day of the five-day Diwali festival, dedicated to Lord Dhanvantari, the god of wealth, health, and good fortune, and Goddess Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth. On this day, lamps are lit at the entrance of the house, and buying new utensils is considered auspicious. Anand Bhavan would be immersed in the joy of sparkle and prosperity on Dhanteras. Markets would overflow with crowds, people buying new utensils and ornaments. Maharaj Indrajeet Singh himself would perform puja in the palace's Dhanvantari and Lakshmi temples, seeking blessings for the good health and prosperity of the state. In the evening, the vast courtyard of Anand Bhavan would glow with lamps and flowers. The dancer would come on stage, adorned in a golden and red traditional ghagra-choli. She would dance while singing Bundelkhandi folk songs like "Dhanteras aayi re, khushiyaan laayi, Lakshmi Maiya ghar-ghar aayi..." (Dhanteras has come, brought happiness, Mother Lakshmi has come to every home...). Her dance displayed the joy of the arrival of wealth and prosperity, which mesmerised the audience. Anand's mother would always go with his father on this occasion and buy some utensils. The festival symbolises devotion to wealth and health.

Narak Chaudas (Kartik Krishna Chaturdashi)

Hukum Singh explained - Narak Chaudas is also called 'Chhoti Diwali' or 'Roop Chaudas'. It is the second day of the Diwali festival, associated with Lord Krishna's killing of Narakasura and the worship of Yamaraj to avoid untimely death. Lord Hanuman was also born on this day. Anand Bhavan would be immersed in the joy of cleanliness and light on Narak Chaudas. Clay lamps would be lit in every corner of the palace, and 'Yam Deep' (lamp for Yama) would be placed at the main entrance. Maharaj Indrajeet Singh himself would worship in the palace's Yamaraj temple, seeking blessings for the long life and protection of his subjects. In the evening, the royal court dancer of Gwalior would come on stage, adorned in a black and golden ghagra-choli. She would dance while singing emotional folk songs like "Narak Chaudas aayi re, deepan ki mala chhaai, Yamaraj ko deep jalao, akaal mrityu door bhagao..." (Narak Chaudas has come, a garland of lamps has spread, light a lamp for Yamaraj, ward off untimely death...). Her dance depicted the victory of light over darkness and the joy of life. This festival symbolises devotion to Yamaraj and liberation from untimely death.

Deepawali (Kartik Amavasya)

Deepawali is a grand festival celebrated on Kartik Amavasya (new moon day of Kartik), symbolising enthusiasm, joy, purity, and devotion. On this day, Lakshmi-Ganesh are worshipped, and every place is illuminated with lamps. On Diwali, the Orchha state would glow with a confluence of light, prosperity, and folk songs. After Dhanteras and Narak Chaudas, every house would be decorated with lights, flowers, and mandanas (rangoli). Countless clay lamps are lit, conveying the message of the victory of light over darkness. The air reverberates with the happiness of children's fireworks. On the night of Diwali, Mahalaxmi Pujan (worship of Mahalaxmi) holds special significance. The royal family and common citizens, all worship Goddess Lakshmi, Ganesh, and Saraswati, offering kheel-batashe (puffed rice and sugar candies) and sweets. Women sit in groups and sing traditional Bundelkhandi folk songs like "Lakshmi Maiya padharo aaj, ghar-ghar mein khushiyaan laao aaj..." (Mother Lakshmi, come today, bring happiness to every home today...). Maharaj Indrajeet Singh himself would organise special puja in the palace and distribute food and clothes to the poor. Although court artists like Rai Praveen would be seen busy with their personal worship, folk songs and traditional dances would still be presented by local artists in the palace courtyard, making the festive atmosphere even more vibrant. This festival is a grand display of community, prosperity, and light.

Diwali Night Fireworks

A grand display of fireworks is held on the night of Diwali, which is a majestic celebration of the victory of light over darkness and good over evil. Anand remembered his grandmother when she celebrated this festival. He used to receive various gifts. Hukum Singh says that the vast courtyard of Anand Bhavan and the open ground in front would be packed with thousands of subjects. The high walls and turrets of the palace would be bathed in the light of lamps and torches. Maharaj Indrajeet Singh, the Maharani, and members of the royal family would enjoy this grand display from the palace balcony. With a loud conch shell blow, the fireworks would begin. Sparklers, anaar (fountains), rockets, and chakris (ground spinners) would fill the sky with colourful flowers, stars, and waterfalls. The entire Orchha city would resonate with the thunder of firecrackers and the brightness of the lights. The subjects would shout "Jai Ho!" (Victory!) and "Wah-Wah!" (Wow!). Maharaj Indrajeet Singh and Rai Praveen were also mesmerised by this amazing sight. This display would last for about an hour, reflecting the eternal tradition of light, love, and joy, and becoming an unforgettable chapter in the history of Orchha.

Conclusion

Hukum Singh said that Rai Praveen's life also became prosperous due to receiving royal honour. Indrajeet used to organise every ceremony at a state level. Because of this, all these festivals were celebrated with great pomp. Guests were welcomed and entertained in Anand Bhavan. After the puja, there would be a food offering (prasad). The royal priest of the city would be invited to narrate stories. He would be given appropriate donations and दक्षिणा (offering) and then bid farewell. The ceremonies held in the queen's quarters seemed dull in comparison to these. Indrajeet was deeply immersed in Rai Praveen's love. Anand had heard the names of so many festivals for the first time. He was amazed at how rich Bundelkhand's cultural heritage is.

Rao Rani

Anand and Hukum Singh went to see the King's palace. While strolling through the palace, Hukum Singh recounted Rai Pravin's most difficult period of life. Interesting legends associated with royalty are always full of romance and grandeur.

All the royal women, the chief queen, and her family members were also at the Kachhua music festival. Rao Rani had heard about Punia, that a blacksmith's daughter learned music at Phoolbagh school. Sometimes the Maharaja would go to listen to her music. At that time, Rao Rani didn't pay much attention to it, but when she saw Punia on stage for the first time today, seeing Punia's beauty and hearing her song, a doubt took root in her mind.

Hukum Singh said, "They say that sometimes one's virtues and fame become a problem for oneself. This kingdom was Orchha, the best among all prosperous kingdoms of the north. Its soil did not yield gold, but the walls of its palaces were covered with gold. This area was famous for its trade, hunting grounds, and music, but its politics had rotted from within. Big alliances and loyalties were bought and sold under the guise of marriages."

"The most talked-about personality of this kingdom was Rai Pravin. Her voice had the sweetness of honey, and her gait had a velvety stillness. She had seen the world very closely. She was not only beautiful but also educated, proficient in Sanskrit, Arabic, and Persian, and a history enthusiast."

Hearing this story, Anand thought that after the day's heat in the Bundelkhand summers, the sand itself seems to fall asleep. But there are some places where the sand does not tire. There it wakes up, burns, and takes the form of a body, drinking someone's breath.

Such a place is Orchha, where rumours always flew like sand. The name of those rumours was Rai Pravin. She was no ordinary woman. She was the 'Nightingale of Orchha', she was 'Kavi Priya', she was 'Raj Nartaki' (royal dancer). She had no wealth, no army, no power. What she had was her artistic talent and her body. The people of Orchha envied her, but the surrounding kings, feudal lords, and jagirdars were drawn to her because of her talent.

Her eyes seemed to hold hot winds that would scorch the person in front. A slight smile played on her lips, conveying much without saying anything.

'Come, but you won't be able to return.' These words echoed in the city.

The women of the palace hated her. Some feared her, some envied her.

'She practices black magic,' someone would say.

'There's a ghost in her body,' another would claim.

'She misleads men and then who knows what she does!'

Hukum Singh said, "But no one had any proof. Women would advise their husbands not to go near her, but men knew that once their eyes met Rai Pravin's, they felt like forgetting everything. Rai Pravin's palace never lacked guests at her functions."

Whether the sun scorched and life slowed down, or when the sand turned cold in winter, chilling bones, Rai Pravin had learned temperament, not season, and her temperament was new every day.

Rai Pravin's body was not for sale. She was not a marketable commodity. Her body was not available at any price. But still, every man wanted to spend a night with her. Once her gaze settled on someone, they had to walk on their own feet to the Anand Bhavan festival. Some thought they were invited because of their wealth, some because of their position or prestige, and some because of their masculinity.

Hukum Singh explained, "But Punia needed neither money, nor status, nor masculinity. When Punia looked at someone, her gaze didn't just see their body; it penetrated their heart. She could smell their weakness, someone's lust, someone's desire, someone's false masculinity. Punia knew everything. In Bundelkhand, just as hot as the days were, the nights turned equally cold."

Delving into Punia's childhood memories, some nights in the heat of memories felt neither cold nor hot. Some memories are such that they don't cut a person; they swallow them. Punia also had such memories that she had suppressed for years. Once she was also a child. An innocent girl from a small village. Playing with mud, talking to dolls.

Hukum Singh said, "But there were some stains in that childhood. Such stains that cannot be washed away. In Punia's childhood, due to poverty in the village, everyone touched her, looked at her with wrong intentions, and called her close."

Her own relatives' gazes, their hands, their gestures, all had torn away Punia's innocence. At that time, no one spoke. No one saved her. And slowly, she began to understand that in this world, a woman's honour is not tied to her tongue, but to her silence.

Then one day Punia was taken to the city. It was said for education, but in reality, she was prepared for the Maharaja. Now she was no longer that innocent village girl Punia. Now there was no fear in her eyes. There were no tears in her eyes.

Now Punia had one thing left – control. Punia had learned to control men. Now this was a game for her. She had learned that unless you become a hunter, the world considers you prey. And now Punia was only a hunter, and her beauty and art were her weapons.

But Punia did not know that a new character had entered her game - Maharaja Indrajit Singh. The Maharaja's mind moved faster than the streets of Orchha. Punia fell in love with him one day; she who had until now considered herself a nomad, now wanted to settle down. When Punia first saw him, the Maharaja looked so wonderful in the redness of the morning sun. Something stirred in the Maharaja's heart.

For the first time in many years, a man had merely looked at Punia, not stared. His eyes were calm. Something like this had happened for the first time in this small village. Neither pride on his face, nor the royal swagger in his gait; his demeanour was cool, but it was clear that there was some warmth within him, some questions, and a lot of understanding. Until now, on hearing Punia's name, she had only seen a sparkle in men's eyes and fear in women's. That day, the Maharaja left.

Punia was seeing a man emerge from within herself – without any fear. Her meeting with the Maharaja was different. The intensity in her eyes was now confusing. This was the same woman who used to defeat men, but now she was losing herself.

Punia could not get the Maharaja out of her mind. There was a sparkle in Punia's eyes. She was being drawn towards him. This was the beginning of the love story of Kamadeva and Rati.

The Maharaja himself was a poet. He knew that Brahmaji had given Kamadeva twelve places to reside, which included the glances of women, their hair, their thighs, breasts, navel, root of the thigh, lips, the cuckoo's call, moonlight, the rainy season, Chaitra, and Vaishakh months. Kamadeva was given a wonderful flower bow. This bow was made of sweet sugarcane, with a string of honey from bees. He had given Kamadeva five arrows named Maran (killing), Stambhan (paralysing), Soshan (draining), and Unmadhan (infatuating). Today, Punia had used these on the Maharaja.

The Maharaja's Gandharva marriage was completely secret, so the news did not reach the royal palace's zenana. But it is said that: 

"Khair, khoon, khaansi, khushi, mad, preet, madpaan. Ye chhupaye se na chhupe, jaanat sakal jahaan."

"Well, blood, cough, happiness, intoxication, love, drinking. These cannot be hidden, the whole world knows."

Rai Pravin, who was not only blessed by Saraswati but also endowed with beauty and grace by the creator with open hands, was the beloved of Maharaja Indrajit of Orchha. Rai Pravin had accepted the tutelage of Mahakavi Keshav Das and dedicated herself to poetic creation. She had beauty, poetry, and dance.

When she sang Ram bhajans in the Ram Raja temple of Orchha, the whole city would come to a standstill. Rai Pravin's beauty and voice spread throughout Orchha. After that, Rai Pravin sat at the feet of the skilled musician Hariram Vyas, understood music and its depths, and attained proficiency under his guidance.

Hukum Singh began to narrate, "Gradually, jealousy among the artists of Rang Mahal towards Rai Pravin was increasing. History is witness that when people cannot defeat a woman because of her virtues, they attack her character."

Because of the Maharaja and Keshav Das, everyone's mouths were sealed, but they say that walls also have ears. People can see your sorrow, but bearing your happiness is beyond their limit.

There was no dearth of those who were jealous of Rai Pravin's fame. The Maharaja honoured her with the title of 'Raj Nartaki'. Rai Pravin was a beautiful poet and musician, also known as the "Nightingale of Orchha." Then Rao Rani's people felt that Rao Rani should be informed of this. The matter reached the chief queen.

The chief queen was from Gwalior. Her marriage to the Maharaja, who was twenty years older than her, was arranged. In her eyes, the Maharaja was cunning and suspicious, outwardly virtuous but inwardly arrogant, and one who ordered his queens around.

Rao Rani's real life had become a golden cage with him – outwardly bright and inwardly suffocating. Every morning when her eyes opened, the corpses of her desires emerged from her pillow. On the other hand, the Maharaja spent his nights with Rai Pravin.

A palace gathering was organised, inviting neighbouring kingdoms. Show-off, alliances, and deals all proceeded as a ritual. The palace was bathed in moonlight and light that night. The anklets of the dancing girls on the stage resonated. The fragrance of perfume spread in the air. Every carpet, every curtain, every chandelier seemed to be telling a story.

Then, amidst them all, Rai Pravin arrived. She wore a deep blue saree. A shining shawl was draped over her shoulder, and on her face was an innocence rarely seen in this age. But there was something in Rai Pravin's eyes as if she was tired of this spectacle. And then the Maharaja slowly walked in, as if treading carefully. Rai Pravin looked at the Maharaja, and the Maharaja looked at her. Their gazes met, and Rao Rani felt as if something had broken within her.

It was a wave of love that passed through that moment, which was about to become a storm in the royal palace. After the gathering, everyone left, but Rao Rani had seen the rumours she heard come true before her own eyes. To be seen is indeed proof of love. It is in these silent glances that the flowers of hope bloom.

Rao Rani recognised such sights well. One day, a handkerchief with a faint perfume fragrance came out of the Maharaja's clothes. It was the same fragrance that was now coming from Rai Pravin.

Anand was thinking that jealousy is a human emotion, but understanding and managing it is crucial. It is not just an emotion, but it also affects our relationships and mental state. If it is under control, it is good for us. In polygamous relationships, especially those with two wives, rivalry and jealousy between co-wives are common psychological phenomena.

Hukum Singh, speaking to himself, said, "These emotions can arise from competition for the husband's attention, resources, and affection, as well as an unequal distribution of domestic tasks and child-rearing responsibilities. This can lead to various mental health problems, including depression, anxiety, and low self-esteem, especially in the case of the first wife."

"Most of the time, they try to behave well and pretend that they are not jealous or bothered by it, but usually, it's all just an attempt to please the man they are with and to try to become his favourite or eventually his only one."

Anand said, "On the other hand, when out of control, it can become trouble for us. Jealousy is an emotional response. Jealousy occurs when we feel that what someone else is getting, we don't have. Rai Pravin's achievements and her relationship with the Maharaja began to evoke insecurity and jealousy in Rao Rani's mind. This feeling arose due to comparison with Rai Pravin. The more Rao Rani thought, the more her jealousy turned into insecurity. The Queen thought that if Rai Pravin had children, the future of her children would be in danger."

Rao Rani thought that a succession battle would begin in the kingdom. Malice is the extreme form of jealousy, where we not only envy someone's progress but also try to harm them. Jealousy was now turning into malice. She wanted to harm Rai Pravin.

Rao Rani discussed with her well-wishers, friends, and family what should be done about Indrajit and his mistress Rai Pravin.

After deliberation on this problem, Rao Rani decided that her family members who were appointed in Emperor Akbar's court should exaggerate and convey the beauty, dancing skills, singing, and poetic abilities of Rai Pravin to Akbar through them.

Hukum Singh described Rao Rani's state of mind: "Rao Rani felt inferior to Rai Pravin. This strengthened the feeling of insecurity in her mind."

"Her mind was filled with stress. She felt a strange restlessness within herself for the first time. Her heart rate had increased. Her stomach kept churning. Sleep had abandoned her eyes."

"She spent the whole night tossing and turning. She was angry with herself for how she had remained unaware of such a big matter until now. Why couldn't she understand the Maharaja's changing behaviour towards her?"

Anand said, "The cause of jealousy can be different in every person, but some causes can be seen in everyone, such as increasing feelings of insecurity."

"She considered herself a failure. The fear of loneliness haunted her. Her feeling of jealousy increased. Besides, with low self-esteem, she was thinking, 'What will people say?'"

"Who will respect her in the palace?"

Rao Rani sent a message about Rai Pravin's beauty and qualities to Akbar through a very trusted envoy. She found this to be the easiest way to get rid of this problem: the Emperor would not refuse the Maharaja's request, and if Rai Pravin went to the Emperor's court, 'the snake would die, and the stick would not break'.

But Rao Rani had no idea of the consequences of her actions. She was not concerned about the Maharaja, nor about Rai Pravin. She was burning in the flame of revenge.

Rao Rani was concerned about her family and the future of her children. At this moment, she did not think for a second what the Emperor would do if the Maharaja refused to send Rai Pravin.

Would he invade Orchha?

Was the Maharaja in a state to wage war now?

Could Orchha face the Mughal Empire's army?

What would happen to the honour of the Bundel King?

The Maharani was neither so diplomatic nor political. Her entire time had been spent in the luxuries of the palaces. In childhood, under the protection of her father, and later, of her husband. She had no interest in education. Nor did she have any interest in any art. She was only skilled at raising children.

Hukum Singh said sadly, "The arrow had now left the bow and hit the target. Their love was caught in political intrigues. Indrajit's story has love, lust, sensory restraint, and many political conspiracies."

On the other hand, Rai Pravin, by her innate intuition, also knew Rao Rani's feelings. The thing she had always feared had now happened. Even today, she was sitting with Indrajit in their private chamber. The first watch of the night had begun. Just then, the doorkeeper asked for permission to enter the chamber.

The Maharaja asked, "What's the matter?" The soldier said that an urgent message had arrived from Emperor Akbar. The Maharaja recognised the letter with the royal seal. The Maharaja had the letter brought inside and opened, and read it. The soldier bowed and left. Only Indrajit and Rai Pravin remained in the chamber.

When the Maharaja saw the letter, a shiver ran through his body. The Maharaja's face turned red with anger. He punched the wall hard. Something rose within his soul. He knew his standing before Emperor Akbar.

The Maharaja remained silent. He looked at Rai Pravin with loving eyes. Rai Pravin's body scent was attracting the Maharaja. The Maharaja sent the letter to Kavi Keshavdas through the doorkeeper.

If there is so much happiness in life, perhaps some depression is also expected. Therefore, conspiracies were hatched to separate Rai Pravin from Orchha. Under this, letters were written to the then Mughal Emperor Akbar, praising Rai Pravin's beauty, and secret messengers were sent.

Ultimately, Rao Rani'smanoeuvress succeeded. Akbar sent a royal decree to Maharaja Indrajit of Orchha ordering Rai Pravin to be presented at the Agra court as soon as possible.

The Maharaja found himself in a great moral dilemma. The always cheerful Maharaja now appeared constantly angry, irritable, and tired. He was now very old, weak, and sad. He had no interest in eating, drinking, or any activity. He had trouble sleeping and eating. He complained to the royal physician of experiencing headaches, stomachaches, and sexual problems.

The Maharaja refused to send his beloved to the Emperor's court to protect her honour. So the Emperor ordered her to be captured and imposed a fine of one lakh gold coins on the king. Akbar's order deeply hurt the Maharaja's self-esteem.

Indrajit did not want to send Rai Pravin to the Mughal court at any cost. Indrajit knew that if the Emperor was displeased, the entire kingdom would be destroyed. His father had once lost the kingdom of Orchha. It was only after his elder brother sought forgiveness from the Emperor that the kingdom was returned. His family and kingdom were under the Emperor's suzerainty. Therefore, he had to maintain the Emperor's trust.

But the security of Orchha was now threatened by the Emperor. The Maharaja was pacing restlessly in his palace. Sleep was miles away from his eyes. Keshav Das was trying to find a satisfactory solution to the problem in his palace. Rai Pravin was troubled in her palace. She was remembering old things. When Maharaja Madhukar Shah ruled Orchha, he made his son Indrajit the jagirdar of Kachhua (in present-day Shivpuri district).

When Maharaja Madhukar Shah died, Indrajit became the heir to the Orchha throne, and then he also called Shankar Lohar to Orchha. Then Shankar died in an accident. The Maharaja made special arrangements for his daughter Punia. Punia received her education under the patronage of the royal guru of Orchha and the first poet of Hindi literature, Pandit Keshav Das.

Due to Punia's unparalleled beauty, many people in the court had their eyes on her. Therefore, Keshavdas taught Punia not only dance, music, and poetry but also how to wield weapons. Seeing Punia's proficiency in every art, the Maharaja bestowed upon her the title of Rai Pravin.

Maharaja Indrajit Singh, bound by Rai Pravin's charm, finally agreed to a Gandharva marriage with his beloved and gifted Rai Pravin the Anand Bhavan palace, built near the Orchha royal palace. Due to the Maharaja being entangled in Rai Pravin's love, the administration of the kingdom became lax. For the Maharani of Orchha, this co-wife became a problem.

"What is love?" Anand asked.

Hukum Singh replied, "This question is as relevant today as it was when King Indrajit ruled Orchha. Indrajit was then young, a connoisseur of music and art, a writer of love songs, and a patron of artists. He was a skilled ruler, a popular king, and cared for the joys and sorrows of his subjects. On the other hand, he was a representative of pleasure, a leader of connoisseurs, and another name for attachment."

Hukum Singh said, "The story comes alive when Orchha's best dancer, Rai Pravin, a beautiful embodiment of unparalleled beauty, comes to live in Anand Bhavan after a Gandharva marriage. She falls in love with Indrajit. Rai Pravin was sitting with Indrajit in Anand Bhavan."

"The love of Indrajit and Rai Pravin was a topic of discussion throughout Bundelkhand. Indrajit was handsome, virtuous, and full of opulence, but Rai Pravin's love was not for his looks or his wealth. In beauty, Rai Pravin was unique, and she also had plenty of wealth. Rather, the story of her love for Indrajit was hidden in her childhood."

"Rai Pravin was not a dancer from the beginning; she was the daughter of a simple village blacksmith. When she reached an age of pleasure, Indrajit entered her life. Indrajit was the son of Madhukar Shah. His love brought Rai Pravin to Orchha. Rai Pravin was educated by Keshav Das, the eminent poet of Ritikavya. Rai Pravin would become overwhelmed with emotion when she danced only for Indrajit."

"When Indrajit saw Rai Pravin, his face glowed with an aura of grandeur. Rai Pravin could not take her eyes off Indrajit's face."

"Slowly, the society of Orchha realised that the dancer was repeatedly looking at the Maharaja. The dancer, who never looked at any wealthy man, was staring at the Maharaja. She was available only to the Maharaja, not to the community. They were bound by the bonds of love and enjoyed each other's company."

Rai Pravin was blaming herself that such a crisis had befallen the Maharaja and the kingdom because of her. It was a mild summer afternoon. Outside the palace, golden wheat crops swayed. Rai Pravin's tears had dried.

The Maharaja considered Rai Pravin the goddess of patience, but he did not know that something within her was dying every day. Rai Pravin sent for the Maharaja and Keshav Das. She had mentally resolved that she would protect the Maharaja, the kingdom, and her self-respect.

Keshav Das believed that there was only one way for Rai Pravin's liberation - her power of speech. Keshav Das thought that what can be achieved with words cannot be achieved with weapons. If used with discretion, a sword wound heals, but a wound from words never heals. For this reason, in Sanatan Dharma, the word is called Brahma. Keshavdas reminded Rai Pravin of her power and filled her with confidence.

Rai Pravin thought, the Maharaja's worries must be resolved. Rai Pravin would have to protect the Maharaja's honour and the dignity of the Orchha state by sacrificing her life. This Orchha state had given her so much. The opportunity to repay its value had come. She remembered Krishna's words to Arjuna:

"Hato va prapsyasi svargam, jitwa va bhokshyase mahim. Tasmaat uttishta kaunteya yuddhaaya kritanishchaya." 

“If you die in battle, you will attain heaven, and if victorious, you will enjoy the earth... Therefore, arise, O son of Kunti, and resolve to fight…”

Then she explained her point to Indrajit Singh through a poem:

"Aayi haun boojhan mantra tumhe, Nij saasan son sigari mati goi, Praan tajon ki tajon kulkaani, Hiye na lajau, laji hain sab koi. Swaarath aur parmaarath kau path, chitt, Vichaari kahau ab koi. Jaamen rahe Prabhu ki prabhuta aru-mor pativrat bhang na hoi."

 "I have come to ask you for counsel. My entire intellect is lost in your rule. Should I sacrifice my life or my family's honour? My heart is not ashamed; everyone else will be. The path of self-interest and supreme good, O mind, Consider and tell me now. In which the lord's majesty remains and my chastity is not broken."

Hearing Keshav's advice, she informed the Maharaja of her decision.

The Maharaja said, "What kind of stubbornness is this, Pravin!"

She replied, "Not stubbornness, Maharaja, but duty. I have come to take the dust from your feet. May the sun of Orchha shine brightly in this manner. If life remains, we shall meet again. Bless your servant, Long live the Maharaja, long live the Indra of the earth."

Bundelkhand means the land of women's valour, bravery, sacrifice, and selflessness. She suddenly remembered the verse from the Gita:

"Karmanyevadhikaraste ma phaleshu kadachana. Ma karmaphalaheturbhurma te sango′stvakarmani." '

“You have a right to your prescribed duties, but you are not entitled to the fruits of action.' Therefore, do not be the cause of the results of your activities, and never be attached to not doing your duty.”

Listening to this story, Anand's heart was deeply moved. It was a moment of trial for both King Indrajit and Rai Pravin.

Anand asked, "It is said that this was a conspiracy, but where were its roots?"

Hukum Singh, referring to Rao Rani, explained that Rao Rani told her story like this: "I am Rao Rani, Indrajit's wife, but my identity is much more than that. My relationship with Indrajit Singh was completely different. I was not just a wife; I was a supporter, a pillar, the mother of his children, and the pivot of that family. People made many accusations against me. Questions were raised about sending information about Rai Pravin to Akbar."

"Rather, this was the need of the era. When Indrajit sacrificed everything for her, finally putting my honour and the future of my children at stake. Every moment I felt as if Indrajit was exposing me naked in front of everyone every day."

"All his brothers were silent. Ministers and courtiers averted their eyes. Even poet Keshav was motionless, but my soul was not silent. I raised questions."

"Was I asked before my marriage?"

"Is a woman an object?"

"On that day, in that ceremony, the dharma of a husband was exposed. That's when I took a vow. Something had to be done for justice. A spark to burn this unrighteousness."

"It was not me, it was my insult. People say that I sent the information to Akbar, but the truth is that it was sent due to the insult that occurred in that ceremony. I did not seek revenge. I sought justice, that justice which is the foundation of any civilised society."

"Everyone was portraying me as a victim, but the truth is that I did not silently endure injustice. I protested with logic, reason, and self-strength. My story will live on in every era. With every woman who stands against injustice, in every voice that asks, 'Why was I not heard?' If any woman stands against insult in the future, understand that Rao Rani is being reborn."

Hukum Singh tried to narrate the other side of the story from Rao Rani's perspective. Anand thought that we often see only one side of a story and forget the other, that they are living human beings too.

Akbar

He, as if, asked himself, "What should I do?"

Listening to the description of the journey from Orchha to Agra, Hukum Singh said, "On this journey, Rai Pravin was accompanied by Kavi Keshav Das, who was not only her guru but also her trusted friend. This was no ordinary journey, but a long one, a blend of honour and concern, to be covered by bullock cart." Anand imagined how dense the forest must have been at that time. What would the road be like? How fast could a bullock cart go? Anand asked these questions to Hukum Singh. Rai Pravin's family members accompanied her to boost her morale. Keshavdas sent a messenger in advance to his friends in the Mughal court, informing them to seek assistance.

Hukum Singh explained that the journey to Agra was very long and risky. The Maharaja arranged for his best pair of bullocks, Heera and Moti, to pull the royal bullock cart. The bullocks were beautifully adorned. A beautiful cloth canopy was tied over the bullock cart for shade. The Maharaja entrusted his driver, Heeraman, with the responsibility of driving the cart. A military contingent accompanied them. Arrangements were made along the way for food, drink, and lodging for the entourage during the journey. Sufficient funds were provided for expenses. Gifts were also given to present to Akbar.

Keshav Das had assured the Maharaja that he would bring Rai Pravin back safely. Keshav Das also assured the Maharaja that he would take full care of Rai Pravin. Rai Pravin understood the Maharaja's sorrow. Rai Pravin had also tried to explain much to the Maharaja alone all night. The Maharaja quickly became filled with despair.

The Maharaja's irritability increased greatly. He started showing undue anger at palace servants over minor issues. But seeing the Maharaja's sunken eyes, dry lips, choked voice, and trembling hands, Rai Pravin became very worried. But Rai Pravin had to go on the journey, so she set off.

With all arrangements duly made, the Maharaja was permitted to leave. But King Indrajit Singh himself did not come out of Anand Bhavan to bid farewell to Rai Pravin. The King was watching from the jharokha (balcony). His eyes held both concern and respect. Rai Pravin bowed in salutation, her face showing determination, but her heart also felt the sorrow of parting from her loved ones.

When the caravan set off with Rai Pravin and Keshav Das, the line of bullock carts became very long. The caravan moved smoothly along the winding paths.

Hukum Singh narrated: "The first day of departure from Orchha – the sunrise in Orchha was as usual, but today it was tinged with a different sadness. Outside Anand Bhavan, a well-decorated bullock cart stood ready. The bullocks were strong and healthy, adorned with colourful cloths and bells. Inside the cart, soft cushions were laid out for Rai Pravin, and there was ample space for her belongings, along with Keshavdas's manuscripts and writing materials."

"As the bullock cart crossed the border of Orchha, the rattling of its wheels on the dusty dirt road mingled with the atmosphere. The leaves of the trees rustled in the cool morning air. Looking back, Orchha's magnificent fort and temples gradually appeared smaller. Keshav Das kept writing something in his manuscript, perhaps an account of the journey or a poem in honour of Rai Pravin. Rai Pravin sat quietly, gazing at the outside scenery – fields, small villages, and the sprawling, rugged plateau of Bundelkhand."

"The pace of the bullock cart was slow and tiring. Only about twenty to twenty-five kilometres could be covered in a day. The path was sometimes stony, sometimes dusty. Passing through the shade of trees, sometimes sounds of wild animals would be heard, and sometimes the tune of a song from a distant village."

"In the afternoon, the cart would be stopped under a large tree or near a well outside a village. Servants would draw water, prepare food, and the bullocks would also get rest. Rai Pravin and Keshav Das would also rest for a while, talk, or Keshav Das would recite his poems. Rai Pravin often asked him about the tales and stories of Bundelkhand or spiritual matters."

"As evening fell, they would stop at a caravanserai or a dharamshala in a large village. There, they would find simple rooms for the night, but full attention was paid to security. Sometimes, they had to spend the night in a temple courtyard or an open field, where the light of torches and the warmth of a bonfire were their only support. The star-filled sky and the silence of the night became their companions on the journey."

Jhansi was the first major stop. Jhansi was an important city even then. The journey from here onwards could be a bit more difficult.

The next halt was in Datia. The regal and mysterious Datia Palace is a truly hidden gem. It is also known as Satkhanda Palace and Bir Singh Ji Deo Palace.

Historians believe that this palace is entirely built of stone and brick. The architecture of arched doorways, domes, and latticework shows Mughal influences. Whereas the sculptures and very few paintings depict birds, animals, and flowers in the Rajput style. Glimpses of this can be seen in some parts of the palace. The beauty of the palace lies in its massive size, space, and striped domestic chatris (umbrellas). A little further on, the Sonagiri Jain Temple is very good. Rai Pravin kept admiring the natural scenery throughout the journey.

From Jhansi to Gwalior was a long and potentially challenging route. There could have been forests and hilly terrain along the way. Gwalior was a large and important state, and here they could find better inns and facilities for a few days.

Two days later, they halted in Gwalior. Keshav Das told Rai Pravin about Gwalior, saying that Gwalior, located in the heart of India, is famous for its magnificent palaces and temples. This city is home to intricately carved Hindu temples, the Sas Bahu Temple, and the ancient Gwalior Fort, which is situated atop a sandstone plateau and offers panoramic views of the city. Inside the fort walls is the Gujari Mahal Palace. The Jai Vilas Palace is a grand edifice, showcasing a captivating blend of European architectural influences. The magnificent halls are a prominent feature of this vast palace, providing visitors with insight into its rich history and royal charm.

The next stop was Morena. Keshav Das told Rai Pravin that the Chausath Yogini Temple is located a few kilometres from Pitaoli or the Bateshwar temple complex. It is built on a hilltop, offering a splendid view of the surrounding areas. Visitors to Morena can enjoy a tranquil experience at the Bateshwar temple complex. Additionally, spending time at the banks of the Chambal River offers a pleasant view of clean and pollution-free water amidst beautiful landscapes. Then the caravan stopped at Dholpur. After Gwalior, the route moved towards the plains of the Yamuna River. This area began to be somewhat flat.

Dholpur was the final leg of the journey to Agra. Dholpur was also a well-known place at that time. The distance from here to Agra was short, and the path was relatively straight. They wanted to reach the Mughal court as quickly as possible.

Hukum Singh, describing the journey, said, "Dust, heat, and sometimes sudden rain also became a part of their journey. The jolting ride of the bullock cart tired the body, but filled the mind with new experiences. During this journey, Keshav Das composed many new poems, including descriptions of the scenery, people's conversations, and Rai Pravin's emotions. Rai Pravin also imagined many new dance forms and songs in her mind. She observed rural life closely, understanding the simple lives of people, which was completely different from her royal life."

"Many times on the way, they would meet people who would tell stories about the Mughal court. These stories increased both Rai Pravin's curiosity and anxiety about Agra and meeting the Emperor. Keshav Das gave her patience and courage, telling her about Akbar's sense of justice."

After a long and tiring journey of approximately seven to ten days, one evening they saw the huge gates of Agra. From a distance, the grandeur of the Red Fort and the hustle and bustle of the city began to appear.

The bullock cart entered the crowded streets of Agra. In contrast to the peace and simplicity of Orchha, the streets of Agra were filled with merchants, soldiers, courtiers, and common people. There was noise everywhere, and magnificent buildings stood tall.

A Mughal court official was already there to receive them. The bullock cart proceeded towards the royal guesthouse, where arrangements for their stay had been made.

Rai Pravin and Keshavdas dusted off the long journey's grime and took a deep breath. Having stepped out of their world of Orchha, they stood at the threshold of a new and vast world. This journey was not merely covering geographical distance, but a journey of cultural and emotional transformation that added a new chapter to their experiences.

The description of the travel route narrated by Hukum Singh made Anand feel as if he was travelling to Agra sitting in the bullock cart. The next day, there was an order to appear before the Emperor in the Agra palace court.

Rai Pravin couldn't sleep that night. Many scenes kept coming to her mind. Orchha was a prosperous area, and Rai Pravin's palace was there. That palace, made up of three courtyards, was so vast that five to seven thousand people could sit in it. The palace was so beautiful that the palaces of the noblemen and ministers of the Orchha state were small in comparison, and Rai Pravin's wealth was beyond description.

Gradually, Rai Pravin crossed the age of twenty-five. Her beauty spread far and wide from the streets of Orchha. Everyone wanted to meet her after hearing about her beauty.

But Rai Pravin did not meet common people. For them, she was merely an object of sight. Whenever Rai Pravin stepped out into the streets of Orchha, people stood in alleys and on rooftops, greeting her. They yearned for a glimpse of her.

Hukum Singh narrated about Rai Pravin that gradually the discussion of her beauty also reached Emperor Akbar, the most powerful ruler of the Mughal Empire at that time. Orchha was a small state under the Mughal Sultanate, but King Indrajit Singh of Orchha was a very proud king. Therefore, the Mughals did not get along well with the Orchha king.

First, Akbar, filled with his arrogance, thought of invading Orchha to acquire Rai Pravin. He wrote a letter to the King of Orchha saying that he should send Rai Pravin to him, or be ready to pay a fine of one lakh gold coins and face war. It was not just about Rai Pravin; it was about self-respect.

That's why the Maharaja of Orchha sent a message to the Emperor that he was asking for the greatest thing in Orchha. Rai Pravin is the pride of Orchha, and by giving her away, they could not diminish Orchha's pride.

This answer was not just an answer, but adding fuel to the fire. Akbar's anger reached its peak, and he was adamant about sending his army to invade Orchha. There was no dearth of people in Orchha ready to sacrifice their lives to protect Orchha's honour. War was inevitable. At that very moment, Keshav Das sent a message to his friend Abdul Rahim Khan-i-Khana.

Keshav Das's message stated that the Emperor should at least see Rai Pravin once. After that, he could wage war. Lest it happen that the Emperor wages war and then finds Rai Pravin not as beautiful as he had heard. Then this war would be meaningless.

When Abdul Rahim Khan-i-Khana conveyed this to the Emperor, Akbar liked Keshav Das's idea. Then Abdul Rahim Khan-i-Khana sent the Emperor's message to Keshav Das that Rai Pravin should come to the Emperor's court once to display her talent.

When Keshav Das told this to Rai Pravin, she knew that Orchha could not stand against the Mughal Empire. Therefore, she did not want the destruction of the Orchha state for her sake. She made up her mind to go to Emperor Akbar's court.

Anand wanted to know about the Mughal Emperor. Hukum Singh then explained, "Akbar was the third ruler of the Mughal dynasty of Timurid lineage. Akbar was born on the full moon day, so he was named Badruddin Muhammad Akbar. 'Badr' means full moon, and 'Akbar' was taken from the name of his maternal grandfather, Sheikh Ali Akbar Jami."

"Akbar was born in the palace of the Rajput ruler Rana Amarsal in Umerkot, Sindh (present-day Pakistan). Here, Emperor Humayun was seeking refuge with his recently married begum Hamida Banu. Humayun named this son according to Jalaluddin Muhammad, whose name he had once heard in a dream."

"Akbar is also known as Akbar-e-Azam, or Akbar the Great, Shahenshah Akbar, Mahabali Shahenshah. Emperor Akbar was the grandson of Zahiruddin Muhammad Babur, the founder of the Mughal Empire, and the son of Nasiruddin Humayun and Hamida Banu. Babur's lineage was connected to Timur and the Mongol leader Genghis Khan, meaning his ancestors were from the family of Timur Leng, and his maternal side was related to Genghis Khan. Under Akbar's rule, the Mughal Empire encompassed most of Northern and Central India and was one of the most powerful empires of that time."

Anand wanted to know, "What was Akbar's childhood like? How educated was he?"

Hukum Singh explained that Humayun had to live in exile in Persia due to the Pashtun leader Sher Shah Suri, but he did not take Akbar with him; instead, he left him in a village called Mukundpur in Rewa state. Akbar formed a deep friendship with Prince Ram Singh I of that place, who later became the king of Rewa. They grew up together and remained friends for life.

Later, Akbar lived with his uncle Mirza Askari in the Safavid Empire (part of present-day Afghanistan). First, he stayed in Kandahar for a few days and then in Kabul. Humayun always had disputes with his younger brothers, so Akbar's situation at his uncles' homes was only slightly better than that of a prisoner.

Although everyone treated him well and perhaps doted on him too much, Akbar could not read or write. He could only receive military education. Much of his time was spent in hunting, running, duelling, wrestling, etc., and he had no interest in education. By the time Akbar was eight years old, all his years since birth had been marked by great instability, due to which his education could not be properly managed. Now Humayun's attention also turned to this. He organised an event in Kabul to begin Akbar's education. But at the last moment, Akbar got lost, and the ceremony took place the next day.

Mulla Asamuddin Abrahim was appointed as Akbar's teacher, but Mulla Asamuddin proved incompetent. Then this task was first given to Maulana Bamjid, but when he also failed, the work was entrusted to Maulana Abdul Qadir but no teacher succeeded in educating Akbar.

Akbar had no interest in reading and writing; his interest was more in pigeon fancying, horse riding, and keeping dogs, but he always had an interest in acquiring knowledge. It is said that when he went to sleep, someone would read something to him. Over time, Akbar emerged as a mature and sagacious ruler, who had a deep interest in art, architecture, music, and literature.

Hukum Singh: "Taking advantage of the chaos created by the succession disputes of Sher Shah Suri's son, Islam Shah, Humayun regained control of Delhi. A good part of his army was the Persian ally Tahmasp I. A few months later, Humayun accidentally died after falling from the stairs of his library in a heavily intoxicated state."

"Then Akbar's guardian, Bairam Khan, kept this death a secret for some time in the interest of the empire and prepared Akbar for succession."

Anand asked, "When did Akbar ascend the throne?"

Hukum Singh explained that Akbar's coronation took place at the age of thirteen in Kalanaur, Punjab, on a newly built platform, dressed in golden clothes and a dark turban. This platform still exists today. All this happened during the ongoing war with Sikandar Shah Suri for the return of control of the Delhi throne from the Mughal Empire. He was called Shahenshah, the Persian word for Emperor. Until he came of age, his reign was under the regency of Bairam Khan.

Hukum Singh: "Among emperors, Akbar was the only one who received equal love and respect from both Hindus and Muslims. He established a religion called Din-i-Ilahi to reduce the distances between Hindu and Muslim communities. Akbar not only abolished the Jizya tax on Hindus but also did many other things that made both Hindus and Muslims admire him. During his reign, he completely stopped the invasions of the powerful Pashtun descendant Sher Shah Suri. He also defeated the newly declared Hindu king Hemu in the Second Battle of Panipat."

"It took Akbar two decades to establish his empire and bring most of Northern and Central India under his sole authority. His influence extended over almost the entire Indian subcontinent, and he ruled as emperor over a large part of this region. As emperor, Akbar established diplomatic relations with powerful and numerous Hindu Rajput kings and also formed marital alliances with them."

Hukum Singh: "Akbar did not want the centre of the Mughal Empire to be in a distant city like Delhi; therefore, he decided to move the Mughal capital to Fatehpur Sikri, which was in the centre of the empire. After some time, Akbar had to move the capital from Fatehpur Sikri. It is said that the main reason for this was a shortage of water. After Fatehpur Sikri, Akbar created a mobile court that travelled throughout the empire. In this way, it was possible to pay proper attention to all corners of the empire. For the smooth administration of the northwestern state, Akbar made Lahore the capital. Before his death, Akbar made Agra the capital and ruled from there until the end."

Hukum Singh: "After Panipat, the Mughals captured the Agra Fort, along with its immense wealth. This wealth also included a diamond that later became famous as the Kohinoor diamond. Given Agra's central location, Akbar decided to make it his capital. There is a famous ancient temple in Agra where even Emperor Akbar bowed his head at its threshold."

Hukum Singh: "Many stories about the temple claim it to be very miraculous. The Emperor of Agra himself walked to the Darianath Temple in Raja Mandi Bazaar to bow his head. It is said that at that time, there was a terrible famine in Agra, and to get rid of that famine, Akbar went to the then Mahant (priest). It was due to his miracles that the drought in Agra ended."

Anand had heard about Akbar's marriages to Hindu princesses. He asked Hukum Singh, who replied, Raja Bharmal of Amber, a Kachhwaha Rajput king, gained entry into Akbar's court shortly after taking over his state. He agreed to marry his daughter, Princess Harkha Bai, to Akbar. After marriage, she converted to Islam and was known as Maryam-uz-Zamani. Her Rajput family disowned her forever, and she never returned to Amer after her marriage.

She did not receive any significant place in Agra or Delhi after her marriage, but a small village in Bharatpur district. Bharmal received a high position in Akbar's court, and thereafter his son Bhagwant Das and grandson Man Singh also remained high-ranking nobles of the court.

Instances of Hindu princesses marrying Muslim kings were quite common before Akbar's time, but in most such marriages, the mutual relations between the two families did not remain good, nor did the princesses ever return home.

Hukum Singh: "However, Akbar handled this matter differently from previous instances, where the brothers or fathers of those queens received similar respect as Akbar's Muslim in-laws after their daughters' or sisters' marriages."

"Except for eating and praying with them. Those Rajputs received good positions in Akbar's court. Everyone accepted them except for some conservative families who considered it an insult."

"He had a very large 'harem' which contained more than five thousand women. In a true sense, 'harem' was the place where the women of the royal family used to live."

Anand heard the word 'harem' for the first time. He wanted to know its meaning. Hukum Singh said, "The word 'harem' originated from the Arabic word 'hareem', which means a 'sacred untouchable place'. During Babur's time, the practice of harems was not very common."

"But by the time Akbar came, its practice had increased significantly, and it became more of a den of debauchery than a sacred place. Although harems started much before the Mughals, during the Ottoman Empire, they truly flourished during the Mughal period, and by the time Akbar's reign came, the meaning of harem itself changed."

"Most of these women were kept there after being forcibly abducted. 'Meena Bazaar' was set up to buy and sell girls. The harem not only had women but also hundreds of eunuchs (castrated men)."

Hukum Singh: "For the security of the harem, there were superintendents, treasurers, male soldiers outside the harem, and eunuch soldiers and female soldiers inside. The strength of the state was judged by the number of women in the harem. It is said that some of Akbar's people, upon seeing a beautiful woman about to commit Sati, would forcibly stop her, claiming it was the Emperor's order, and then she would be placed in the harem. In this way, the Emperor opposed the practice of Sati and protected those helpless women."

Hukum Singh says that when Begums, nobles, wives of courtiers, or other women wished to present themselves to the Emperor, they first had to inform their wish and wait for a reply. If deemed worthy, they were granted permission to enter the harem. Opposing the Emperor was beyond anyone's power.

Akbar forcibly put his sister and daughter-in-law into his harem. Once a woman entered this harem, she had no contact with the outside world. The entire identity of those women was changed.

Mughal emperors never married off their daughters. They remained imprisoned in this harem. Mughal emperors did not want a war of succession by marrying off their daughters.

No one except the Emperor was allowed inside the harem. If anyone did not follow the rules and regulations of the harem, the punishment was death. Dungeons were built under every harem for hangings.

Anand asked, "Were the financial needs of every woman in the harem met?"

Hukum Singh replied, "Facilities in the harem were provided according to rank. During the Mughal period, the maximum amount of tax revenue was spent on the harem. Those working there received very good salaries, and the women inside the harem lacked nothing. It was like a golden prison."

When the Emperor entered the harem to relieve his day's fatigue, all the women present there would adorn themselves and line up to welcome him, vying for his attention.

Anand asked, "Were the physical needs of every woman in the harem met?"

Hukum Singh replied, "No, there was fierce competition to win the Emperor's affection. Now, there was only one Emperor, and he couldn't be with thousands of women. It was like 'one pomegranate for a hundred sick people.' So, many women spent their entire lives waiting. The women of the harem then wished for someone from outside to come in, even if it was a doctor. All the women behaved as if they were united in front of the Emperor, but behind his back, many conspiracies were hatched. Complaints were made against each other, which led to punishment."

"To gain the Emperor's favour, all the women tried to look more attractive than each other. Many women wore very transparent clothes, while some made obscene gestures, danced, or stood semi-naked. Now, it was the Emperor's will with whom he would spend the night, even if it was a maidservant."

Learning such history from Hukum Singh, Anand was surprised that if he had not come on this journey, he might never have gained so much knowledge.

These days, Akbar's court was located in Agra. The common court included not only the public and members of the council of ministers but also many scholars, artists, and guests. In this court, political matters were decided, art, culture, and literature flourished, and the Emperor's word and justice were manifested. The Mughal court was the centre of the Mughal Empire's power, where political relations, the problems of the subjects, and crime control were discussed.

In the Mughal court, the Emperor appointed courtiers according to his will, but during Akbar's reign, not only did the court expand, but Akbar's Navratnas (Nine Jewels) were also formed.

Emperor Akbar ordered Rai Pravin to be presented in court. Rai Pravin was a great artist as well as very beautiful. Akbar had sent for her after hearing about her. Today in Agra, the court of the Emperor of Hind began earlier than its daily scheduled time.

The guard struck the gong loudly and shouted in a booming voice: "Ba'adab, ba'mulahiza, hoshiyar, Zille Ilahi, Hazrat Mugale Azam, Shahenshah-e-Hind, Jalaluddin Muhammad Akbar is arriving...!"

Silence fell upon the court. All the courtiers present in the court bowed and saluted the Emperor one by one. Akbar's nine jewels were Birbal, Tansen, Abul Fazl, Faizi, Todar Mal, Raja Man Singh, Abdul Rahim Khan-i-Khana, Faqir Aziao-din, and Mulla Do Piyaza. They were proficient in various fields, and the Emperor himself respected them greatly.

Against Indrajit's will, Rai Pravin was sent to Akbar in Agra. Rai Pravin was a name known to every citizen of Orchha. Rai Pravin's beauty was difficult to describe in words.

It is said that when she looked out from the balcony of Anand Bhavan, the birds sitting on the nearby trees would chirp upon seeing her. Rai Pravin's silky hair shone like sunbeams, and her smile had such captivating power that even the greatest poet would write songs in her praise.

To catch a glimpse of Rai Pravin, the people of the city would gaze fixedly at Rai Pravin's palace all day long. Rai Pravin's beauty, dance, singing, and poetry were not limited to her kingdom. Even the people of the Mughal court began to immerse themselves in the stories of her beauty and scholarship.

But Rai Pravin knew that if you want to make beauty a power, you should not only display it but also know how to use it wisely, and she was a master of this art.

Today, when Rai Pravin was to be presented in the Mughal court, this news filled the entire court with joy. There was a different atmosphere in every corner of the court. All the courtiers, ministers, generals, poets, singers, and Akbar's Navratnas were seated in their respective places, but an unusual excitement was on their faces.

Just then, the Emperor entered through the grand palace doors. On the other side, Rai Pravin was seated with Kavi Keshav. She wore a golden Chanderi silk ghagra-choli, which seemed to glow like gold. Her dupatta was very thin, covering her face less with its veil and more illuminating it with a golden glow.

One of Akbar's Navratnas, Abdul Rahim Khan-i-Khana, who was also a famous poet of Braj Bhasha, rose from his place and introduced Mahakavi Keshav Das and his disciple Rai Pravin.

Keshav Das and Rai Pravin greeted Emperor Akbar with folded hands. Emperor Akbar accepted their greetings, raised his hand in salutation, and asked Keshav Das: "What are you writing these days?"

Keshav Das replied, "Huzoor, two of my works are complete: one is the epic 'Rasikpriya' and the other is an educational poem 'Kavipriya', which was completed a few days ago."

"Recite something from your compositions," the Emperor ordered. Upon Akbar's encouragement, the great poet recited a Savaiya (a poetic meter) to Akbar, appropriate for the state of being lustful in old age:

"Haathi na saathi na ghore chere na gaon na thaanv ko naam bilaihein. Taat na maat na mitra na putra v vitt angahu sang na rahaihein. Keshav naam ko Ram visaarat aur nikaam na kaamahi aaihein. Chet re chet ajon chitt antar antak lok akele hi jaihein."

"No elephant, no companion, no horses, no servants, no villages, no name of a place will remain. Neither father nor mother, nor friend nor son, nor wealth will accompany the body. Keshav, forgetting the name of Rama, other useless desires will be of no use. Beware, beware now, within your heart, you will go alone to the world of death."

Upon Rahim explaining the meaning of the Savaiya, Akbar was embarrassed. He greatly appreciated art and artists. To cover his embarrassment, Akbar asked many questions about poetry. Keshav Das answered with his fearlessness, knowledge, and clarity. Akbar was pleased with the answers and ordered:

"Let Rai Pravin, the dancer of Orchha, disciple of Mahakavi Keshav Das, present her poetic composition."

When Rai Pravin came and stood in the middle of the court upon being called, it looked as if the moon was peeking through the clouds. There was such steadiness in Rai Pravin's gait that an aura spread with every step. Golden bangles sparkled on Rai Pravin's hands, and the Navlakha necklace around her neck sweetened the atmosphere with a soft chime.

There was a slight smile on her face. Such a smile that was a wonderful blend of innocence and mystery. In the depths of her eyes was a world where every desire forgot its existence.

Silence filled the court. Everyone's gaze was fixed on one person because no one had words to speak. No one had the courage. Silence reigned all around - magical, deep, and enchanting. Akbar was deeply impressed by Rai Pravin's beauty.

Rai Pravin removed her veil and stood in the middle of the court with a half-veil. In that position, she turned and greeted all the courtiers. The courtiers were mesmerised by Rai Pravin's natural beauty. Then, with the Emperor's permission, Rai Pravin began to recite her poem:

"Swarn grahak teen, kavi, vibhichaari, chor Pagu na dharaat, sansay karat tanak na chaahat shor. Ped badau chhaya ghani, jagat kare vishram Aise taruvar ke tare moy sataavai ghaam. Kahaan dosh kartaar ko, Kaurm kutil gahai baanh Karmheen kilpat phirahin kalpavriksh ki chhaanh."

"Three types of gold-seekers: poets, adulterers, thieves. They do not step; they doubt, not wanting the slightest noise. The tree is big, the shade is dense, the world rests under it. Yet under such a tree, the sun torments me. Where is the creator's fault? The crooked tortoise takes the arm. The unfortunate wander, tormented, even in the shade of the wish-fulfilling tree."

Akbar, sitting directly on his throne, said to Rai Pravin: 

Akbar: "Juvan chalat tir deh ki, chatak chalat kehi het?" Rai Pravin boli: "Manmath vaari masaal ko, saanti sihaare let." Akbar ne kaha: "Oonchai hvai sur bas kiye, sam hvai nar bas keenh." Rai Pravin boli: "Ab paataal bas karan ko, dharak payaano keenh."

Akbar: "The body moves crookedly in youth. For what reason does the flirtation move?" 

Rai Pravin replied: "The torch of Kama (love-god) takes peace away." 

Akbar said: "Having conquered the gods by being high, conquered men by being equal." Rai Pravin replied: "Now, to conquer the netherworld, the descent has begun."

In the court, Akbar had fallen prey to this attraction.

"Bravo, O poetess-dancer of Orchha! You shall become a rare jewel of my harem. You will find a thousand times more happiness and comfort than in Orchha."

Akbar knew that such personalities rarely bless a country. Akbar rose from his throne and applauded with both hands.

There was such turmoil in his heart as he had only felt on the battlefield. But this time, the battle was not outside but within his heart. Akbar was a lover of music and poetry.

Akbar had heard countless songs of love, valour, and beauty, but seeing Rai Pravin, a poem was being born within him—a poem that could not be found in any book, a poem that lived only in a glimpse of Rai Pravin. The other men in the court were drawn to Rai Pravin in their ways.

There was an inexpressible authority in Akbar's eyes, a hidden desire. Seeing the natural beauty of Bundelkhand, he felt not only attachment but also devotion, a creative curiosity.

Rai Pravin understood the power of her beauty. Rai Pravin had used it correctly and appropriately. Every gesture, every glance, every smile was part of a calculated strategy. Rai Pravin knew how to create an invisible attraction in the mind of the great Akbar, how to ignite the fire of detachment in his heart, which would not be visible from the outside but would burn him from within.

When Rai Pravin raised both her hands, her dupatta slipped from her head and clung to her hands. Rai Pravin's delicate wrists and the jingle of her bangles created a stir in the minds of the courtiers. There was a mysterious invitation in Rai Pravin's smile. As if, without saying anything, she was inviting the Emperor to an invisible game. She was smiling at the Emperor without blinking.

Rai Pravin's eyes were saying so much that words were not needed. The courtiers were drowning in Rai Pravin's ocean-like eyes, which had no shore. She was assessing Akbar's emotions, not his capabilities.

This was no ordinary royal proceeding. This was a game where Rai Pravin was playing chess, Akbar was a pawn, and life was at stake.

The sun was setting. The last rays of the sun were entering through the massive pillars of the court. Rai Pravin looked at the Emperor one last time. There was an invisible humility and an invisible politeness in her gaze.

Then she slowly said, "Zille Ilahi! Please be gracious enough to hear my humble request." Rai Pravin pleaded with the Emperor, raising both hands in a prayer-like gesture.

"Yes, yes, speak," Akbar said excitedly.

Rai Pravin, with complete devotion, silently remembered Mother Vindhyavasini and said, "Mother, now the honour of your daughter is in your hands."

"Sarvadharmanparityajya mamekam sharanam vraja." 

(Abandon all varieties of religion and just surrender unto Me.)

Rai Pravin, surrendering herself into the hands of her Mother, with fearlessness and complete self-control, recited this couplet with her quick wit:

"Vinati Rai Pravin ki, 

Suniye Shah Sujan, 

Jhoothi paatar bhakhat 

hain,baari-bayas-swaan."

Rai Pravin very cleverly conveyed this couplet to Akbar. Suddenly, silence fell over the court as everyone heard Rai Pravin's words during the ongoing event. Upon hearing the poem, Akbar's face flushed with anger. Akbar wanted to keep Rai Pravin in his harem against Indrajit's wishes.

Rai Pravin agitated the Mughal Emperor by saying, "It is only a servant, a dog, or a crow who would prefer to eat something that has already been defiled by another."

Such audacity! Such insolence! And that too from a woman? She may be very beautiful, or Akbar might be sixty years old, but such courage from a dancer? That she would call the Emperor "That she would utter words like 'bayas' (crow) or 'swan' (dog) to the Emperor!"

The Emperor was once again astonished by her ethereal beauty. He seemed to be defeated by that beauty, and on the other side, Rai Pravin stood alone in the court, like Draupadi standing in the assembly of the Kauravas. Krishna had come to save Draupadi. Who would come to save her here?

Though Krishna had said, whenever dharma declines and unrighteousness increases, I manifest myself to uphold dharma, meaning I incarnate:

"Yada yada hi dharmasya glanirbhavati bharatah. Abhyutthanamadharmasya tadaatmaanam srujaamyaham."

"Whenever and wherever there is a decline in righteousness and a predominant rise of unrighteousness, O descendant of Bharata (Arjuna), at that time I manifest Myself."

But which lover had Akbar fined a lakh of coins? And who had sent her alone to Akbar's court?

There was no hope of anyone coming to save her. She had to rely on herself. She had to act with courage.

Who knew that Punia, the blacksmith's daughter, would one day truly become a full moon? But she was shining like the moon in the Delhi court. In her voice also reflected the assurance given to Indrajit, which was still in her sweating palms.

"Do not worry, Maharaja! Akbar will never be able to obtain me; he will have to be defeated! He will be defeated by my poetry. When he can be defeated by poetry, why should I raise a sword against him?"

The firmness with which Rai Pravin stood in the court disturbed Akbar. "This woman? So much courage? What is she saying to me in this full court?"

"Emperor, I said nothing to you! I merely spoke about myself, that I can no longer belong to anyone else, because Indrajit Singh has become mine, and I have become his! So, what can I say to you about who eats another's leftovers?"

Had it been his youth, her head would have been severed in the full court, but Akbar sat there, looking embarrassed. At this age, what scandalous lust and greed for a woman caused? He could neither raise his head in court nor accept his mistake.

Akbar had been told the truth of his heart, and impressed by her loyalty to her beloved, Akbar mentally decided to send Rai Pravin back to Orchha safely, preserving both her dignity and her kingdom. Then, overcoming his inner desires, at Keshavdas's request, he announced Rai Pravin's departure with gifts. The fine of one lakh imposed on Indrajit was also waived.

Love won. Lust lost. The lustful Emperor lost. Rai Pravin, the poetic heart, won with all her intellect. Then she rose and left with her reward, leaving behind an invisible silence.

Rai Pravin had turned the chess game around with her beauty and cleverness. The courtiers were stunned. Keshav was speechless. Rai Pravin had taken a risk whose consequence could have been a fierce war or her death. No one had expected such an outcome.

IndraJeet

Hukum Singh had brought Anand to the Chhatris (cenotaphs) by the Betwa River at six in the morning. The enchanting morning view filled the heart with joy. A pair of lapwings had just landed on one of the chhatris. There's an English saying, "The early bird catches the worm," meaning the bird that wakes up early gets the worms. I often wonder, it's fine for the bird, but what about the worms that wake up early?

The story Anand was witnessing was a unique experience for him. Hukum Singh began narrating the story: The most powerful Maharaja of Orchha was seated in his chamber. The moon was still spreading its moonlight in the sky, but the fire burning within him could not be extinguished by any cold light from outside.

Only one name resonated within him: Rai Pravin. Rai Pravin's glowing face, her gentle smile, her mysterious eyes—everything ignited a fire in Indrajit's blood.

Every day, every night, every evening, Indrajit had only one thought. Indrajit's entire life was now centred around one person: Rai Pravin. All his poems and the paintings commissioned in Anand Bhavan were solely to enhance Rai Pravin's personality.

Every day he imagined, and his subject was Rai Pravin: her greatness and the depth of her personality. All his creations were of this kind. Rai Pravin, who was already a scholar, knew that Indrajit's purpose was not merely to possess her body. It was an effort to bring about emotional and mental transformation.

Rai Pravin gradually began to understand these efforts and started taking them as a challenge. She began to feel even more powerful. The Maharaja's efforts allowed her to see herself in a new light. The result of all this was that she began to understand emotions within herself that she had not seen before. She also knew that handling these feelings was difficult.

Rai Pravin was now fulfilling her dreams and desires, but she also knew that she had to maintain her strength and self-respect. Her attraction to the Maharaja was not only physical but also emotional. The Maharaja's eyes were those of a warrior.

Freedom and self-reliance are essential in any relationship. After Rai Pravin left, the Maharaja was filled with immense self-reproach. Although he had not formally married Rai Pravin, he knew that they had performed a Gandharva marriage (a marriage based on mutual love, without rituals). Over time, Punia's age and knowledge both progressed remarkably. Just as the fragrance of a flower spreads throughout the forest when it blooms, similarly, when Punia grew up, the discussions of her beauty, dance, singing, and poetry spread among the royal families, courts, and art lovers of the entire region, but no one dared to say anything because she was a state protectee.

The Maharaja recalled that he had seen Punia with special eyes during the Gangaur cultural ritual. He felt as if they were celebrating her presence. Punia's delicate and graceful body looked like a newly blossomed creeper, and her accessories and ornaments enhanced her astonishing beauty. The Maharaja recalled that the sixteen adornments (Solah Shringar) are related to the sixteen phases of the moon, making Punia look incredibly beautiful like a bride.

This ritual also connects the beautiful bride with Goddess Lakshmi, as she is the goddess of fertility and beauty. The palace attendants had adorned Rai Pravin for the Solah Shringar ritual with traditional bridal jewellery and beauty accessories, making her innocent Bundeli maiden appearance look like a traditional bride.

Rai Pravin's braid was skillfully done. A Gajra was used to decorate the braid. The Gajra added to her beauty. The Gajra was made of fragrant jasmine and mogra flowers. Henna was applied to her hands, wrists, and feet. Sharp kohl (Kajal) was applied to enhance her eyes and beauty, making her look like Meenakshi.

The fragrance of Ittar (perfume) emanated from Rai Pravin's body. It was Khas Ittar, which the Maharaja liked very much. The fragrance of the Ittar had attracted the Maharaja towards Punia.

Punia wore a Chanderi Odhani over her lehenga-choli. She wore Karnaphool in her ears, Pungariya in her nose, Bedi on her forehead, Hansli, Kanthla, Guluband, Bichhauli, Tidna around her neck, Bajuband, Choodiyan on her arms, Angoothiyan on her fingers, Painjana, Jhanjhar on her feet, and a Kardhoni around her waist.

Rai Pravin wore many bangles made of glass, lac, gold, and silver on her hands, whose gems sparkled intermittently. Whenever she adjusted her chunari (scarf), the bangles would jingle. Rai Pravin was a chaste woman.

Their love was true. The Maharaja felt that if Emperor Akbar had summoned his chief queen in such a way, would he have let her go? Would I not have fulfilled the duty of a Bundela? Would I not have risked my life to save the chief queen's honour?

Such thoughts constantly tormented Indrajit. From that day, Indrajit had given up eating and drinking. His friend Keshav was also not there. At this moment, he felt alone. Due to shame and hesitation, he had not even come out of his room in the palace. As the night approached, heavy breathing sounds were coming from the upper chamber of the palace.

Maharaja Indrajit Singh, who was in the final chapter of his life, lay on his bed amidst silken sheets. His wrinkles clearly showed both his fatigue and his age. The warrior of yesteryear was now confined to a coughing, tired body. The sparkle of power, authority, and attachment was gone from his eyes. That day, the entire palace was plunged in sorrow. All colours of festivity had vanished.

Indrajit kept thinking—one by one, all the images churned his mind. He imagined Rai Pravin and wondered what she must be going through in the Emperor's court and palace.? How much shame? How much insult? Only because of me.

If I hadn't brought her to Orchha, she wouldn't be in this situation. It was my cowardice that I avoided marriage by citing public shame. On the other hand, for my selfish reasons, I always considered her an object of my pleasure, whereas she was also a living woman. She also had the right to live a life with dignity, holding her head high in society, which I did not give her.

Rai Pravin gave me her pure love. The Maharaja was her first lover, but he had a chief queen and other female companions. Still, no complaints. No grievances, complete self-surrender. What a woman! What a woman's heart!

Indrajit thought, "She was great. A man truly becomes a man only when he does not look at even a young, unknown woman with merely lustful eyes. He should not consider her merely an object of pleasure. That woman should not fear him even in a deep, secluded forest; she should feel safe."

When a woman develops such natural trust, only then do true men emerge. Just as overeating leads to illness, constantly contemplating lust makes the mind sick. A true man does not ask for certificates from people; instead, he shows through actions, not words. His deeds are his certificates. This human life is very difficult to obtain, and life is very short, so life should not be wasted merely on eating and carnal pleasures.

The Maharaja remembered how, when he saw Punia at the Gangaur program, he felt as if her eyes were speaking, and he involuntarily blurted out:

"Kahat, Natat, Rijhat, Khijhat, Milat, Khilat, Lajiyat. Bhare Bhaun main karat hain, Nainanun hi se sab baat."

“They say, refuse, are pleased, are annoyed, meet, bloom, are shy. In a crowded house, they do everything only with their eyes.”

Seeing Rai Pravin, my eyes widened in wonder. I had never imagined that there could be such beauty on earth. I fell in love with her at first sight. I felt that Rai Pravin loved me just as much. The next day I heard that Rai Pravin had a fever. I was confident that it was a fever of love, which would not be cured by any medicine now.

It was a very short separation, but I felt that we would suffer in this separation throughout our lives. And then I performed a Gandharva marriage with her. Both our souls became one with our bodies. I promised her that I would keep her as a queen in a separate palace. Rai Pravin was very happy and came to live in Anand Bhavan.

Now I would always be lost in Rai Pravin's memory. I could not think of anything else besides Rai Pravin. I didn't care about the emotions of the Rao Rani. I became estranged from my duties as a husband, father, and king. I was cursed for all this.

As if they all said, "Because of the woman's love for whom you are neglecting me, everything of yours will be destroyed."

The irony was that I did not hear this curse. By the time I realised I was neglecting these duties, the effect of the curse had begun. Akbar's message had arrived. I became very nervous. I became sad.

But when Rai Pravin came to me to protect her honour and dignity, I was helpless. I could do nothing. I am in a state where I can neither wage war nor protect Rai Pravin's honour by paying a fine. Rai Pravin must be thinking that I used her and abandoned her in this difficult time.

What was her condition in the village before? And now I have left her trapped in this crisis. What must be the state of her mind?

That day, she became motionless before me. She couldn't say anything. But she neither condemned me, nor spoke ill of me, nor demanded her rights. Quietly, she gathered courage and decided to go to Agra. She defeated me. Her sacrifice brought me down in my own eyes.

Can I rule with this stain on my forehead? With what face will I confront the Rao Rani? How will I face my children? Only the gods, the forest goddess, and the ten directions were witnesses to our marriage, and now they are condemning me.

How will my friend Keshav write heroic poems about me? Can he write my tale of shame? How will history remember me?

The Maharaja constantly compared Rai Pravin and his behaviour, considering himself sinful, inferior, and immoral. He was no longer fit to show his face to anyone. Quietly, he went to the Ram Raja Temple at night. He performed the Lord's bedtime aarti, then bowed to the Lord and returned to his room.

When Indrajit fell so deeply in love with the poor blacksmith's daughter from the village, he performed a Gandharva marriage with her. The only witnesses to this marriage were nature, the gods, the ten directions, and Keshavdas. When this very girl came to the Maharaja today to demand her right to protect her honour, he was more concerned about his kingdom and his family. Indrajit had dishonoured her love.

Then their love story was going to pass through so many turns that it would become immortal in history. The Maharaja decided that he would not let his love story become a story of shame, but rather make it a story of the ultimate culmination of love, to be repeated by lovers, by sacrificing himself. The evening sky was red like embers. He had made a firm resolve in his mind while praying before God. Today, he had not allowed the lamp to be lit in his chamber. He liked being in the dark. The one who always lived in light was now afraid of light.

The Maharaja had been educated in a famous gurukul in Banaras, where he was taught the Gita. While thinking about Rai Pravin, the Maharaja's mental state became such. He had read in the Gita that Krishna says:

"Dhyayato vishayan pumsah sangastesupajayate. Sangatsanjayate kamah kamatkrodhobhijayate."

“While contemplating the objects of the senses, a person develops attachment to them. From attachment desire is born, and from unfulfilled desire, anger arises.”

"Krodhadbhavati sammohah sammohat smritivibhramah. Smritibhramsad buddhinasho buddhinashat pranashyati."

“From anger comes delusion, from delusion bewilderment of memory. When memory is bewildered, intelligence is lost, and when intelligence is lost, one perishes.”

Depression in the Maharaja's life had led to a consistently pessimistic outlook towards life. He was living alone in the palace room in deep sadness. He saw a dark future. His continuously negative self-perception was increasing. Since the day Akbar's letter arrived, his sleep had been disturbed due to depression. Staying awake all night had led to delirium. The desire to live was fading. Due to fatigue, his body had become drained of energy and dull.

Thoughts were wandering. Concentration was lost. Now, there was no longer a desire to spend time with any loved one. He was constantly drinking alcohol. The Maharaja never drank alone. There was always a round of drinks in gatherings. Now he was drinking alone. Escapist behaviour was constantly increasing.

He felt continuously humiliated by Akbar's behaviour. His face was dull and wrinkled. Shoulders slumped. Dishevelled hair. Disordered, soiled clothes. Headaches, chest tightness, rapid heartbeat, digestive problems, and body aches. Weight was rapidly decreasing. The idea of ending his life continuously intensified in his mind. Suicide, taking one's own life, is a tragic response to stressful life situations. The Maharaja felt that there was no way to solve his problems and that ending the pain was the only way.

The Maharaja had also seen in the jungle that when a young lion tries to snatch lionesses from an old lion, the old lion fights until his last breath. When he is defeated and wounded, he quietly goes into the darkness and ends his life. If an animal cannot live a humiliated life, then I am a human being. The Maharaja's wavering mind had become steady, and he too had resolved to end his life.

Departure

At night, the moon covered the sky of Agra. The fragrance of Rai Pravin's perfume wafted in the air. Rai Pravin sat in her room, looking out the window, smiling faintly. She knew how her eloquent style had won Akbar's heart. News had spread everywhere that Rai Pravin had won Emperor Akbar's heart with her eloquence, and she was returning to Orchha with many gifts from the Mughal court, accompanied by Mughal soldiers.

But alas, fate! Maharaja Indrajit Singh was not alive to witness this glory.

Hukum Singh, while narrating the story, sat with Anand by the Chhatris on the bank of the Betwa River. Hukum Singh took a deep breath and sighed, beginning to speak, "The Maharaja had plunged his dagger into his chest on his bed in his room last night. In the morning, chaos erupted in the palace. A dark cloud of sorrow had enveloped Orchha. The beloved king of the people, Raja Indrajit Singh, was no longer in this world. The news of his death sent a wave of grief throughout the kingdom. From the palace to the hut, every eye was wet."

As the Maharaja's demise was announced, sadness and silence spread throughout the palace. Queens, princes, and princesses were lamenting beside their beloved king's mortal remains. The chief pandits and astrologers of the state were immediately summoned to make proper arrangements for the last rites.

As morning broke, people from every corner of Orchha thronged towards the palace. Everyone wanted to have a final glimpse of their king. A long queue of grieving people formed at the main gate of the palace.

The Maharaja's mortal remains were adorned with sandalwood and fragrant flowers. He was placed on a specially prepared bier, decorated with silken cloths and pearls. This beer was so large that it required many strong men to lift it.

The royal cremation ground, located on the bank of the Betwa River, was also prepared for the last rites. A pile of sandalwood logs was arranged for the pyre, and all necessary materials for religious rituals were collected.

As the sun began to rise in the sky, the final journey began. At the forefront, a soldier walked with the royal flag lowered, behind whom the royal band played mournful tunes. Following the band, members of the royal family, including queens, princes, and princesses, walked barefoot. Tears flowed continuously from their eyes.

After that came the grand bier carrying the Maharaja's mortal remains. The soldiers and servants carrying the bier were also steeped in deep sorrow. Alongside the bier walked the chief ministers, generals, scholars, and priests of the state, all bowed in deep respect.

Behind the bier walked thousands of subjects. Children, old people, women, and men – everyone was part of this journey to bid their king a final farewell. Sadness was on people's faces and tears in their eyes, but in their hearts was immense love and devotion for their king.

The route of the final journey passed through the entire city of Orchha. At various places along the way, people had placed water pots and incense lamps in front of their homes. As the bier passed them, they showered flowers, offering their respects to their king. Some people were weeping loudly, remembering their king, while some were silently closing their eyes and praying.

The city streets, usually vibrant and bustling, were plunged in sorrow today. Shops and markets were closed. Silence and grief pervaded everywhere.

After a journey of approximately two hours, the royal funeral procession reached the cremation ground located on the sacred bank of the Betwa River. Thousands of people were already present there, waiting to have a final glimpse of the Maharaja.

The pandits began chanting Vedic mantras. The Maharaja's eldest son, Prince Vikramjit Singh, completed all religious rituals. His son lit the pyre with full state honours, near the chhatris of his ancestors in the royal family's cremation ground built on the banks of the Betwa.

As the fire engulfed the sandalwood logs, shouts of "Long live the Maharaja!" resonated all around. Many people were seen unable to hold back their tears.

Meanwhile, Rai Pravin was entering the city of Orchha with her caravan. Contrary to her expectations, the city was neither decorated, nor was anyone there to welcome her. She was surprised to see everything in reverse. Just then, she saw the royal flag of the palace, which was half-mast. Her mind was agitated with apprehension.

Rai Pravin understood that the misfortune she had risked her life to prevent had, by the will of destiny, come to pass.

Since the day the Maharaja had sent back the Emperor's messenger, Rai Pravin had always harboured this fear in her mind. Rai Pravin's deep concern was that the Maharaja could neither fight Akbar nor save the state and its honour. If he had to escape this quagmire, he would uphold the dharma of a true Bundela by giving his life.

And how well she understood the Maharaja. She could read his mind. That's why she understood his wishes without him speaking, and she fulfilled them without being told.

Rai Pravin understood the male psyche very well. She could read every thought of Indrajit's mind. That's why from the very beginning, Rai Pravin was less concerned about herself and more about saving the honour of Orchha and the Maharaja.

Rai Pravin herself had decided to go to Agra after discussing it with her guru, Keshav Das, so that there would be no moral pressure of the decision on the Maharaja.

They were two bodies, one soul. Rai Pravin knew that: "Prem gali ati sankari ja mein do na samaye." (The lane of love is very narrow, where two cannot fit.)

Rai Pravin had no regrets towards the Maharaja. The Maharaja had fulfilled his duty, and now it was Rai Pravin's turn.

Today, Anand Bhavan was deserted. Although it had been tidied up upon the news of Rai Pravin's arrival. Due to the state mourning in Orchha, silence pervaded everywhere. All the kings of Bundelkhand were coming to express their condolences. Indrajit commanded respect throughout the region. The Garud Purana was being recited by the royal priest in the palace, and its faint sound could be heard.

Rai Pravin had to fulfil her last duty. In this crowd, there was only one person who could understand Rai Pravin's state of mind, and that was Keshavdas. But today, he did not want to stop Rai Pravin's path by saying anything.

Keshav Das reflected that Rai Pravin's fame reached the ears of Raja Indrajit Singh, the benevolent and cultured ruler of Orchha. He was a patron of the arts and, upon seeing her extraordinary talent, felt he had found a rare gem. Raja Indrajit Singh brought her to his court, not merely as a scholar, but as a respected artist and a beloved companion.

For Indrajit Singh, Rai Pravin was more than just a beautiful woman; she was his inspiration, his confidante, and the embodiment of Orchha's artistic soul. Indrajit Singh's relationship was deep and true, based on mutual respect and a shared love for poetry and music.

Rai Pravin was a famous scholar of Orchha, known for her extraordinary beauty, poetic talent, musical and dancing skills. Rai Pravin Mahal – a testament to his affection – is a beautiful three-story building surrounded by meticulously maintained gardens, featuring a fountain and a fragrant pathway of aromatic flowers.

Here, amidst the gentle gurgle of water and the rustling of leaves, Rai Pravin composed her poems, practised her dances, and enchanted the court with her captivating performances. It was said that Rai Pravin's sweet voice and melodious music would continuously echo in the sky of Orchha, as always.

But the fame of "Nightingale of Orchha," Rai Pravin, was so bright that it could not be confined within the boundaries of a single state. The tales of Rai Pravin's unparalleled beauty, her mesmerising voice, and her profound intellect spread far and wide.

Keshav Das knew that the female Chakwa (Ruddy Shelduck) would not live long after the male Chakwa died. He quietly gazed at Rai Pravin with empty eyes. Rai Pravin sought forgiveness from her family present there and bowed to the teachers of the gurukul. Rai Pravin was so eager to meet the Maharaja that she had her favourite maid apply her Solah Shringar early that morning.

Rai Pravin wore everything to the Maharaja's liking. So that her adornment would not go to waste, Rai Pravin requested that her caravan be diverted towards the Chhatris, which are built on the banks of the Betwa River. Centuries changed, but the river did not change its course.

The Betwa River, known as Vetravati in ancient times, is a tributary of the Yamuna flowing through Central India, also mentioned in the Mahabharata. The Betwa witnessed the Bundelas settling here and was also a witness to their ancestors' departure to the celestial abode. Life lessons do not come from sermons. One has to learn from experience. As a social being and sitting at the highest level of consciousness, man must think about the welfare of society and nature and work in that direction. This is the meaningfulness of human life.

The Chhatris were built as royal memorials in memory of the Bundela kings and their family members. The size of the Chhatri might have been determined by the length of the reign of those rulers. These mausoleums speak of the stories of the kings through their massive structures. In Hinduism, there are a total of sixteen Sanskars (sacraments) from birth to death. Death is the last, the sixteenth Sanskar, which includes cremation, immersion of ashes, Shraddha rituals, Pind Daan, etc.

The monuments were built to keep the Bundela kings alive in Indian history. In Hinduism, bodies are cremated and ashes are immersed in a river. Therefore, the mausoleum of Orchha was not built to preserve bodies for the next birth.

The design of these mausoleums is unique. They are tall, square buildings, built on high platforms with a domed pavilion at the top, which resembles an umbrella; hence called Chhatri. Here, the main Chhatris are in two rows, set amidst pleasant and well-maintained gardens. The massive size of these monuments makes it feel as if you are walking among palaces.

After death, Hindus believe that the physical body has no purpose, and therefore does not need to be preserved. They choose to cremate their loved ones because they believe it is the fastest way to free the soul and help in rebirth.

Historically, Hindu cremations take place on rivers. The Mahabharata states that 'death' is the ultimate and inevitable truth of life, which no one can avoid. For one who is born, death is certain, and after death, rebirth is also certain. Life and death are like a cycle that every person has to go through.

When sunlight falls on these Chhatris, they turn golden. The rising sun at dawn illuminates them. At sunset, the magnificent silhouettes of the Chhatris blur on the river water. The Chhatris were built in memory of rulers like Madhukar Shah, Bharti Chand, Sawan Singh, Bahar Singh, Pahar Singh, and Uday Singh. All these Chhatris have witnessed their life stories with their own eyes.

The Chhatris look alike, except for one that was built for Bir Singh Deo, the most successful Bundela king. The entrance to this Chhatri faces the Betwa River. It is believed that the deceased ruler enjoys regular bathing and the natural beauty of the river in his next birth.

Now they are glowing in golden colour, as if welcoming Rai Pravin. Rai Pravin had gained knowledge from the scriptures that the soul is immortal, the body is perishable. Therefore, one should not worry about this body. It is just a garment that the soul will change at some point and leave.

But at the same time, Rai Pravin had studied the infinite age of the universe. Rai Pravin knew that whether a human lives for sixty years or even a hundred years in extraordinary circumstances, it is insignificant compared to the age of this universe. That's why she did not understand the attachment to this body.

Smoke was still rising from the Maharaja's pyre. This place was reserved only for the funerals of members of the royal family. Rai Pravin knew that the family who had not given her a place in life would they do so after death? Rai Pravin was proud of the Maharaja's decision. Outwardly calm, her eyes were glazed, but everything inside was shattered.

The bond of the body was broken. There was no crease on Rai Pravin's face, but there were cracks in her soul. That woman, whom the world had called characterless, had loved innocently. But when society weighed Rai Pravin's love on the scales of its standards, it gave it a name - characterless. Rai Pravin smiled and embraced silence because Rai Pravin had to answer not with words, but by sacrificing her life. The world always fears what it cannot understand.

Keshav Das thought that the word used for death in Hindi is 'Dehant' - the end of the body. Our body is made up of earth, water, air, fire, and sky. The first element that departs at the time of death is breath or air. When the fire element leaves, the body becomes cold. Then water leaves. Then if you burn it, the soil mixes with the soil. When the body ends, the sky element merges with the sky.

During cremation, a pot is broken; this symbolises the merging of the sky element with the sky. Keshavdas, seeing Indrajit's pyre at the cremation ground, was thinking: Indrajit's body has ended, but what happened to his desires, lusts, hopes, aspirations, knowledge, intellect, discretion, envy, malice, hopes, aspirations, knowledge, intellect, discretion, and ego?

Keshav Das knows that the energy created in nature is not destroyed because energy is ubiquitous. There are two types of people in this world: those who have left and those who are about to leave.

Just then, Anand saw a white pigeon sitting on Maharaja Madhukar Shah's Chhatri. Anand's head bowed in reverence towards it.

Rai Pravin was silently fighting with herself within. She got out of her vehicle and slowly went to the pyre. Rai Pravin believed that there is birth even after death and that she would meet Indrajit again in the next life. Rai Pravin had read the Gita, in which Krishna says:

"Nainam Chhindanti Shastrani Nainam Dahati Pavakah. Na Chainam Kledayantyaapo Na Shoshayati Marutah."

“Meaning: The soul cannot be cut by any weapon, nor can fire burn it; water cannot wet it, nor can the wind dry it.”

Lord Krishna has spoken of the soul being unaging, immortal, and eternal. Rai Pravin was thinking these things in her mind.

She lay down completely towards the Maharaja's feet and bowed. Her bridal adornment was complete, only her parting (maang) was empty. "The one whom the king accepts is the queen." A king has no caste.

She picked up a pinch of ash from the direction of the Maharaja's feet and proudly filled her empty hair parting with it, and then walked peacefully into the thousands of streams of the Betwa—to meet her beloved.

The current of the Betwa is also immensely compassionate. It quickly hid this unfortunate daughter in its embrace. The people standing at the ghat cried out in anguish.

Keshav saw the sun, sitting on its chariot, setting in the west, and his beloved disciple, Rai Pravin, eager to meet her beloved, riding on the waves of the Betwa. The strong current of the Betwa was rapidly carrying Rai Pravin to meet her lover, Indrajit. Keshav Das, seeing such an end to the story, wept inwardly. He had never imagined that the pride of Bundelkhand, the embodiment of beauty, a scholar, a chaste woman, would meet such an end.

Keshav thought that this love story was destined to end this way. Every lover thinks that the love that has arisen in their heart on earth, no one has ever loved like that. And he is not wrong either. He had known this kind of love for the first time in his life. That's why everyone's love is unique, new, a first-time love.

Indrajit had also thought the same. When society loses a diamond due to its beliefs, it realises the loss it has incurred, and by the time it understands what it has lost, it is too late. He felt that the assembled crowd was also weeping. Their story is one of love, intellect, and rebellion, which became immortal in the history and folklore of Orchha.

After the fire subsided, the pandits collected the ashes and bones. The next day, members of the royal family went to Prayagraj to immerse the ashes in the Ganges River. While immersing the ashes in the sacred current of the river, everyone prayed for the peace of the Maharaja's soul.

With the death of Raja Indrajit Singh, Orchha lost a great ruler, but his memories and the good deeds he did will always live on in the hearts of the people. His last journey showed how much the people of Orchha loved their king and how loyal they were to him. This was not just a funeral, but the end of an era and the beginning of a new one, in which Raja Indrajit Singh's legacy would be carried forward by his son.

Their story became a legend, a testament to the power of intellect, loyalty, and unwavering love in the face of royal might. Their story is etched in the stones of Orchha, a song of resilience and enduring love that has resonated through the ages.

Anand was observing and feeling that as the day was drawing to a close, the bank of the Betwa River in Orchha was taking on a wondrous and magical appearance, especially where the majestic Chhatris had stood serenely for centuries. The sunset view there was difficult to describe in words.

Slowly, the golden sun began to move towards the western horizon. First, a faint orange glow spread across the sky, then it gradually transformed into a magnificent blend of deep saffron, deep red, and finally purple and pink hues. It seemed as if a divine painter had colored the sky with his most beautiful brush.

The calm waters of the Betwa River faithfully absorbed this changing spectrum. All the colours of the sky shimmered on the river's surface, making it appear as if another sinking sun had risen within the river itself. The sun's last rays, falling on the water, created golden lines that were slowly fading away.

The grand Chhatris standing on the bank marked their presence in this ethereal scene. Their intricate carvings and architectural brilliance, which were clear in the daylight, were now slowly losing their distinctness, emerging only as grand silhouettes. Their domes and minarets appeared like dark shadows against the setting sun, lending a mysterious and tranquil character to the entire landscape. It seemed as if they had been silently witnessing this unforgettable moment for centuries.

A unique tranquillity began to pervade the air. The day's bustle was subsiding. The chirping of birds was softening as they returned to their nests. From afar, the faint sound of temple bells and the chanting of some sadhu (sage) floated in the air, making this calm atmosphere even more spiritual.

As the sun descended further, the redness in the sky deepened. Then it slowly began to merge into blue and black. Even the last rays, when they merged with the horizon, left behind a deep, peaceful darkness and a sky full of twinkling stars. Every kind of shadow was dissolving into the waters of the Betwa.

Watching the sunset on the banks of the Betwa, near the Chhatris of Orchha, was not just a natural phenomenon; it was an experience that brought peace to the soul, calmed the mind, and exposed one to the incredible beauty of nature.

It was the moment when history, nature, and spirituality converged to leave an unforgettable impression on Anand's mind. Anand and Hukum Singh saw that darkness was enveloping everything, and two stars were shining very closely in the sky.