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Tuesday 26 June 2018

CH# 7: The Mughal Eclipse- Freedom fighters at Red Fort-fusionstories

CH # 7: THE MUGHAL ECLIPSE

novel on mughal history




Freedom fighter at Red Fort to meet Mughal King

‘... I’m sorry. I couldn’t notice you. Are you ok?’ the shadow was clear in the sapphire moonlight.


Angeline stepped back first and then came forward to see a bent man who was sobbing with pain.


‘Water…water…,’ Umer cried.


‘Please take this?’ Angeline looked around and filled in the bowl with water.


The moon hid behind the clouds and shadows disappeared in the twilight which could only sense the breathing or sighing of someone close by.

 

Umer gulped the drink in one go and sat at one side to hold his energies. On the wing, clouds were not hospitable or were constrained against gushes of free air that they didn’t let moon to respite amid them and set it exposed to natives of the earth in few seconds. The red color was barer in black that Angeline couldn’t get it anymore.   

 

‘I think, I can help you, let me see…,’ Angeline stepped close to check his bleeding wound.

 

'Was she any fairy or moon swooped down,' for seconds Umer was hooked in her brown hairs cuddling on her face.   


'I'm so sorry that your wound...,'


A foreign tone and a female voice approaching close cautioned Umer promptly. 


‘No… get away...,’ Umer got out of trans. He raised his arm to stop her at once and leaped back angry.

 

‘…I’ll manage it myself,’ he continued irritated.


‘Just go to hell. Actually, dumb Indians don't deserve any sympathy. You all should see disgusting death.' Angeline fumed feeling insulted. 


'I dont want to scuffle a lady. I didn't call you for help. Please go away. Syed Ahmed shouldn't rescue these people when their end is doomed in here,' Umer grumbled and moved forward.


He put his hand on chest to curb his pain and flow of blood after taking few steps. 


'Just consider your status in the new world, you can’t even make a matchbox to lit a fire and dreaming to eradicate well equipped British forces. You are wasting your energy and our time in brawling. You have no fate other than of failure. I’m actually very pleased to see you like this,’ Angeline yelled out noticing him down.


mughal history novel


‘The freedom is at our doors now. In the morning, King Bahadur Shah Zafar will meet freedom fighters, and then all big heads of foreigners will bury with their arrogance. Mughal sultanate will restore its roots and we’ll flourish in an autonomous Hindustan.’ Umer hardly reached to his bed and looked for his shirt. 


‘I’m telling you, you can’t get freedom at least in this century. You’ll wipe out with your ignorance…you’re nothing but dumb browns…illiterate Indians. The rule of Queen Victoria will boom across the world,’ Angeline kept on blowing out in fury without taking care of silence at night.


Umer put his shirt on the wound to stop the gushes of blood and closed his eyes. Syed Ahmed Khan woke up to offer his Tahjud prayer before sehri when he overheard someone’s shrill grumbling. He walked out to the corner of a big garden where Angeline was taking fast sips of water now. She threw the bowl on one side and walked inside. Syed Ahmed could listen at her muttering; the dumb browns, the dumb Indians…useless illiterate creature on earth…want freedom…,’


 ‘Dumb, illiterate browns...she is right…that’s what we’re...,’ Syed Ahmed khan felt those words hitting his stance. This was not only Angeline, but all whites have the same opinion for the natives of India.


‘That’s what you meant in your letter, chacha Ghalib and I couldn’t realize this.’ Syed Ahmed Khan came back to his room after offering Fajr prayer. He lit the lantern, opened his translated book Ain e Akbari and took out a folded letter from it.


‘You want me to change the course of my nation in a modern direction. You’re asking me for great responsibility. I don’t know, where to start?’ his thoughts were revolting in new directions.


‘You can’t win independence at least in this century…,’ Angeline’s grumbling was echoing in his mind. He didn't guess when the chirping sparrows unwrapped the hopeful dawn in Delhi. Freedom fighters got up very early to see the "Emperor of Hindustan".        


 ‘Clear the spider webs and fix every inch of the royal court. These giant walls of Red Fort will glimpse the scenes of a formal meeting in Diwaan e khaas after a long time. The correspondents of freedom fighters are looking for permission from his Highness Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar for the meeting.’ Crown Prince Mirza Mughal ordered the fort servants. 

 

13th May 1857
WEDNESDAY

 

 Once these gates kept open their arms for every petitioner kin or rich and blanched the terror on every enemy near or far and for now they’re silent for long against any call. Niaz Din, Ranbir Singh, and Aneel entered Diwaan e Khaas mesmerizing with victorious echoes of the past. King Bahadur Shah Zafar was seated on his simple throne. Prince Mirza Mughal, Prince Khizar Sultan, Prince Jawan Bakhat, and Prime Minister Ehsanullah were also present there wearing glowing royal gowns and adorned royal caps.

 

The vibrant silk curtains on windows were fluttering at every wind gust from outside. Everyone was talking and suggesting about the prevailing situation except the king. The formal meeting was started after the recitation of the Quran and King Bahadur Shah Zafar got attentive to the correspondents.

               


     

‘Don’t you think that you’re at the wrong place to seek help? Red Fort can't aid you in any protest against the British government. You should manage it in your way. Why don’t you choose anyone amid you to lead you?’ Bahadur Shah looked at the correspondents and questioned them in a shrill and discourteous tone.

 

‘Meray huzoor, this was the only right place in the whole Hindustan, where we could put and met our pleas for centuries and we hope the same again. The things are far complicated than mere complaints now. It’s tough to breathe as slaves on our own land. We’re out with the cause of freedom from the British. We’ll fight until we expel every single foreigner from Hindustan. Our struggle needs a colossal name behind it. We request Red Fort to lead our movement,’ Niaz Din briefed, ignoring the unwelcoming attitude of King.

 

‘Why would Red Fort head and follow a bunch of mutineers? Red Fort is neither prepared nor want to set up with any war politics,’ Bahadur Shah forced on his hand stick and spoke out.

 

‘Meray huzoor, we’re not a bunch of mutineers. A lot of soldiers and local civilians from all over India have been joining us under the slogan of Mughal empire restoration. We’ve taken the city of Delhi for you. You can thrive back as an Emperor of Free Hindustan. The back from Red Fort will blow a fresh verve in our movement. You’re our last hope,’ Aneel came forward and presented the keys of city gates to King.

 

‘…but Red Fort can’t afford the expenses of any Army. It’s better than…,’ King didn’t show much interest in but princes were keen to hold the heavy bunch of keys from freedom fighters. 


It was a long time ago when Bahadur Shah had fought many wars against British. He was young at that time and realized the basic pools to strengthen an Army. He doesn’t want to bluff himself or the freedom fighter. He paused for a while.

 

‘Meray huzoor, we ask for nothing but a Mughal label which is a soul of our movement. We’ve enough ammunition and other supplies to come in front of any enemy. You just nominate one of your princes as our commander in chief and we’ll struggle under the authority of Emperor of Hindustan Bahadur Shah Zafar,’ Ranbir continued on his points.

 

‘What do you suggest?’ the old king looked at his personal physician and senior minister Hakim Ehsanullah.

 

‘My lord, these freedom fighters have captured the city of Delhi just in a day but they’re lacking a significant central command. The small British garrison couldn’t resist them. Most of the officers are looking for any safe place to survive. Now, the whole city is a hostage at the hands of an unorganized but well-equipped mob. I think we should give a chance to these fighters and Red Fort as well,’ Prime minister gave his opinion.

 

‘I second Ehsanullah,’ Prince Khizar spoke up on his turn.


Crown Prince Mirza Mughal and other noblemen also favored the fighters after spotting the keys of Delhi very close to them.

 

King Bahadur Shah Zafar thought for a while, left his small throne, and walked to his room restlessly. They all looked at each other and then to the door. The king was out without giving any final words. They had no option other than to wait for him. The fort lobbies were barren on that hot day. All ladies were locked to their low roofed cool quarters at Rang Mahal or busy for Eid stitching at Mumtaz Mahal. The children were also kept insides because of the formal meeting at Red Fort after such a long time. Only the pigeons and parrots were chirping amid guava and mango trees with ripening fruits.

 

'The most difficult task of the world is to hide your misery and vulnerability under the shadows of your shining past. It becomes terrible when people demand from you the same charisma, which you have lost a long time ago. Is this trembling Mughal sultanate is capable to bear the load of any movement, no one is considering it but relying on the fascinating stories of past, ' King Bahadur Shah Zafar crossed the group of mango trees at Hayat Bakhash Bagh and reached his room at Khaas Mahal. The sun rays were blazing on papers at his study table in the corner.


'Na kisi ki aankh ka Noor hun, Na kisi k dil ka qarar hun

Jo kisi k kaam na aye woh musht e khubar hun

Na raha who rang na bo rahi, na gulon ki khubi o khu rhi

Jo khizan k haathon tabah hua woh yaadgar e bahar hun'


Why don't these people understand? 

 

"The movements, no matter how influential and true they are have stomach too. They drown in the well of hunger for nothing if they are not fed up to the mouth."


Why don't these fighters understand?

 

"Fights are not led and won under rented leaders. A boss rises among the warriors themselves, actually architects the path to victory,"

 

He talked to himself restless. He closed the door of his room. All courtiers couldn’t understand the king’s actions. Was he ignoring them or really it was tough for any slave to stand against his master after 81 years of fixated service even when the time and chance of freedom  fell in his lap like ripe fruit.                    

 

‘Ah, Zafar, you’re that unfortunate king who had to witness the bitterness of war with borrowed soldiers,’ King moved to one corner of the room and stopped by a wooden chest restless.

 

‘Every rise has to see a fall one day. Why not finish it with an honor of bestowing against at least one try to sustain it?’ Bahadur Shah came up with a decision at last. He uncovered the wooden chest, wiped out its dust, and opened it. A heavy rifle engrossed with the name of ‘King Aurangzeb’ seemed complaining. He took out the rifle, opened the door, and reached at Diwaan e Khaas after a while. Everyone became attentive to listen to King’s final verdict.

            

‘Though I’m doubted about the goal and destiny of this mutiny, I announce my consent and back for the cause fighters. As far as the matter of my representative is concerned then I’ve found that Prince Khizar has better hostility and managerial skills. I can observe the wisdom and courage in his eyes that’s why he’ll be colonel of mutineers force. He’ll also look out financial matters as minister of finance,’ King Bahadur Shah announced. Prince Jawan Bakhat was also designated as a military commander.

 

‘Meray huzoor,’ Prince Khizar Sultan and Prince Jawan Bakhat bowed down.

 

‘Crown Prince Mirza Mughal will be commander in chief of royal Army of freedom fighters,’ King announced and bestowed the royal rifle to Prince Mirza Mughal which Mirza took bowing to the Emperor of Hindustan.  


'Long live Emperor of Hindustan

Long live Mughal sultnate' 


Freedom fighters representatives raised slogans overjoyed. 

 

         ‘For all, this rifle belongs to my great grandfather Emperor Aurangzeb. As a Mughal Crown Prince, I’m the only one on this land who is skillful to hold this. History witnessed how British traders had to plea for Aurangzeb’s forgiveness in Bengal to continue their jobs. I’ll cut the roots of any foreigner from Hindustan just like my great grandfather King Aurangzeb did,’ Prince Mirza Mughal suddenly felt himself at the hype of overconfidence. He just forgot how he was reluctant to show any leniency or aid to fighters.

 

                ‘I’m definitely very fortunate. Soon I’ll be the Emperor of this sultanate because of these fighters. I should dab out all fears otherwise any other will grab the chance,’ Prince Mirza Mughal observed his other brother envious.


King dismissed the court and locked himself again in his room with his paper and pencil.

 

‘I’m concerned about your designation as a colonel in the Mughal Army as confronting the enemy in-ground is not like tarnishing the women of the house. The enemy doesn’t impress by the bodily splendor of men but looks for war skills. As a Commander-in-chief, I’ll talk Aba Huzoor about your status,’ Prince Mirza Mughal walked to his brother Prince Khizar sultan as soon as the King left the court.

 

‘And war is not fought in dreams but in daylight and reality, my brother. I’m also concerned about your snoring. Do you’ve any plans?’ Prince Khizar threw back the fire in no time.


‘We should call and reorganize all freedom fighters in the cavalry ground to discuss and plan the situation? We should also think of collecting the revenue,’ Aneel dared to interrupt.


 

        ‘First of all, I should see of any striking army uniform as a commander in chief which could demonstrate the grace and terror of Mughal valor. What else an independent king requires to show his power?’ Prince Mirza Mughal asked his son Prince Abu Bakar.

 

‘An expensive paramount crown and a new peacock throne,’ Prince Abu Bakar crooked to his father looking at the Prince Jawan Bakhat, who just left the court in rage.

 

‘How genius my son is! The time is not too far when I’ll be the Emperor of Hindustan and you’ll be my crown prince soon,’ Mirza Mughal patted his son and called for the fort servants.

 

‘First, I’ll visit the city with might, so that everyone knows and fears my status. It's 20th fast today and it’s better to wait for more revolted soldiers from all around India to join us till Eid ul Fitr. Then we’ll plan on any better terms,’ Prince Mirza Mughal delivered his first command.

 

‘I must plan to get rid of Mirza Mughal or any other contestant of the throne. This state needs the energies of a sensible and shrewd leader like me. I was the only one who was in favor of this movement from start and only I owe its lead,’ Prince Khizar Sultan clenched his fist, thought for while, and moved to quarters in Mumtaz Mahal.

             

The correspondents observed the king and princes leaving the court and looked at each other.  

 

‘Every second has its worth at war, my lord. Our soldiers are advancing towards Lucknow, Cawnpur, and Fatehpur and have reached up to Bengal. There is uprising at Oudh and Agra too…We should assemble the scattered struggle…,’ Aneel opened a map in hurry.

 

‘I know the gravity of the situation that’s why I’m planning to arrange a meeting on Iftar today. I'll tell you my plan there. By the time you go and tell your mates about Red Fort’s back,’ Prince Mirza Mughal didn’t bother to peer on map.


‘Go and arrange a splendid horse cart for me to visit the city,’ Prince Mirza Mughal ordered the servants.

 

‘I’ll go with you, aba huzoor,’ Prince Abu Bakar insisted.

 

‘Of course,’ Crown Prince Mirza Mughal reciprocated pleasing.

 

What else a readymade commander in chief could sort out. Niaz Din, Aneel, and Ranbir had no choice to leave the court.


 Prince Mirza Mughal was nervous, excited, or burdened, but he needs some time to make his mind to meet his new authority. It was just like a dream for him to lead an army without putting any effort...TO BE CONTINUED...Click to go CH # 8

  Link to CH# 1

Above complete novel of 'THE MUGHAL ECLIPSE' is also available KINDLE AMAZON

Disclaimer: all characters of the story are imaginary. They bear no resemblance to anyone living or dead.

The writer can be followed at fusion stories@facebook.com.

 

 

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