Last Chapter: The Mughal Eclipse| WITNESS THE KILLING OF LAST MUGHAL PRINCE BY HUDSON AT KHUNI DARWAZA,DELHI 1857-fusion stories

LAST CH: THE MUGHAL ECLIPSE

   The killing of Last Mughal Princes at Khuni Darwaza, Delhi terminated the Empire forever 

 

... Princess Hamida Bano sat with Bahadur Shah Zafar in the cart. They all avoided eye contact till the Mughal convoy reached Humayun's tomb.

‘Humayun tomb, a splendid piece of architecture by Mughals built with red sandstones gazed the convoy amazed. It was a double story building, with a wide terrace, steep staircases, and arched entrances for different chambers. The humble noise of flowing water channels up to striking water reservoirs in the green gardens of Charbagh was creating magic in the twilight. 

 

The families of Princes arrived first and entered different chambers to look for reasonable corners to stay. Their servants started to swipe webs and dust with clutter by stealing their eyes from older residents of the tomb; the resting bodies of kings and princes in the graves. King Bahadur Shah Zafar’s cart arrived at the end.   

An old banyan tree at the gate and all around chirping birds got alert after hearing at the King’s carts. They waited for the buglers, security men, and naurtans to enter first. This is what, they were observing for centuries.

‘Ba adab ba mulaiza hoshiar,

 the king of kings,

the emperor of Hindustan

 Akbar is arriving here,’

Ba adab ba mulaiza hoshiar, king Jhangir is coming,

‘Emperor Shahjahan is here,’

‘Emperor Aurangzeb is visiting here,’

It was true that the Mughal sultanate was declining for more than a century after King Aurangzeb but few norms were still alive.

‘Astonishingly, no announcement was made this time and King Bahadur Shah Zafar quietly passed by with his family from the large pathway in the Charbagh till the main chamber of the tomb. Princess Hamida Bano stayed there, under the dumbfounded banyan tree. A mysterious quietness undercover the chirping of birds was overwhelming the environment.

 

King and all Princes offered ‘Fateha’ at the graves of King Humayun, King Jhahandar, and King Alamgir 2 and then moved to another chamber to see Prince Dara Shaikun’s grave.

 

‘Why are you freeze under that old banyan tree, princess Hamida. There are graves all around inside and outside. Many emperors, prince, princess, and queens are buried here. Don’t roam about alone here. This place may be cursed. I’m going to see your eldest brother Furkhsharyar’s grave. We would stay in that chamber,’ her mother called her after a while.

‘I’m hearing at him, ami Huzoor. He is narrating to me the time when the chief consort of Humayun, Haji Begum well-thought-out to built this tomb in the memory of her husband. The land of Hindustan first time witnessed the leap in its architecture, a domed mausoleum, surrounded with Persian style four gardens; Charbagh. He is amusing me with the stories of prince and princess of authoritative Mughal rulers, playing and swinging around the roots of this banyan tree. It is also telling me the mystified memorial ceremonies of burial at here and at last the story of Mughal princes who approach here as prisoners and will leave so,’ she murmured to herself.

‘Aren’t you listening to me, Princess Hamida Bano? It’s a time of Maghrib prayer. Come inside,’ her mother called her again.

 

Mughal families were settling down at the tomb when the British entered the Red Fort without any resistance. They looted all-around to soothe their long tiring fight as a mark of victory. The city of Delhi was retaken and the British were successful to suppress the most intense uprising at the time. Several civilians and freedom fighters were slaughtered brutally on that day and many were imprisoned.

 

The night approached clear and bright. A full moon was recording another wounded, plundered, and screaming night of history after any war.

 

Bakhat khan arrived at the borders of Lucknow accompanying few freedom sepoys. He stopped his horse along the water channel among the fields.   

 

‘My part of the work is done here. The feeble authority, flock of spies around me, and lack of logistic supply made it difficult to sustain our victory. The British have overtaken us. My soldiers are imprisoned now. I’m leaving with the broken heart,’ Bakhat was gloomy.

 

‘The history will remind you as a great hero of freedom fight. You were a warrior of the field. You put your best,’ one sepoy replied. The roar of war was out of their sights now but the visuals of long tiring brawl were fixed in their eyes.

 

‘I’m just a soldier of passage. I’ll continue with this movement of freedom fighters in other areas of India. In real each freedom fighter was a hero and especially like you, who left from Meerut and lit the fire to the movement of freedom till the end,’ Bakhat Khan owned up.

 

He tightened the rope of his horse and vanished in the soaring soil towards Lucknow.

 

The moderate weather of September struggled to cradle the royal family calm in the tomb but poppet of the castle was a baring night with open eyes.

 

‘Where are you going in the dark?’ Prince Jawan Bakhat spotted Queen Zeenat Mahal getting ready.

 

‘After the killing of General Nicholson, another British agent General Hudson has joined in here. I want to see him ensure my deals, which were done with Nicolson. I’ll be back in while.’

 

‘Make it early. It’s scary over here,’ Prince Jawan Bakhat crumbled in his sheet.

 

 

King continued reciting and praying for the whole night. Prince Abu Bakar was continuously staring at stars from the opening of the chamber.

 

‘These grave holders were luckier to pass their life at the unsurpassed era,’ after bearing long, awaken and restless night Prince Mirza Mughal, Prince Khizar sultan were about to close their eyes when another day folded dated 21^st September 1857, at early morning and the gates of Humayun Tomb smashed with a bang. British soldiers’ encircled the to

'Ba adab ba mulaiza hoshiar, king of kings, the son of Bahadur Shah Zafar, King Mirza Jawan Bakhat, is appearing at Diwaan e khaas.’

 

She put the glorious crown upon her son’s head and followed him till the court. All ministers and couturiers bowed against her. She sat on the magnificent jeweled peacock throne, which her forces just seized back from Kabul.

 

‘The sun of Mughal legacy is shining from east to west of Hindustan, my queen. These imprisoned British officers are looking for their destiny at your hands now,’ prime minister pointed to the shackled white inmates.

She got up to address the court when something fell with a bang and dream busted. She found herself in a mattress in a small chamber of Humayun’s tomb.

 

       ‘Respected, Queen Zeenat Mahal, Major William Hudson has enclosed the Humayun tomb with almost 1000 horsemen,’ her maid informed her.

 

‘Oh, at last, my dream is going to come true,’ she came outside contented.

 

King Bahadur Shah Zafar just offered his Fajr prayer and was about to open the Quran again when his servant came inside with a British officer.

         

‘Red fort and the Delhi are under the control of British command now. Most rebellions are imprisoned. Insurgence is suppressed. The king is advised to notify the official surrender and offer unconditional apprehend of himself with his family,’ the officer read the message from Hudson.

 

‘We’ll not surrender. The war still has the fire. Go and tell your command,’ Prince Mirza Mughal got up and approached the king. Prince

Mirza Mughal hoped on his spies, who spread the news, of Humayun's tomb’s siege in the surroundings. In no time, undercover mutineers and locals were mostly equipped with farm tools gathered there to protect their historical Mughal legacy. Mirza Mughal gave the last try to directly command the locals.

‘We’ll not let you harm or assassinate our king and his princes at any cost,’ one man displayed his farm knife in the air with aggression as he’s to cut the crop of well equipped British soldiers with his almost rusted farm knife.

 ‘This tomb is testifying the great period of Mughals in this region. That’s why all people have hoped sanctity of buried kings here would help descends the grave owners.’ A large number of people were still roaring at the slogans of Mughal restoration.  Though feeble…though crippled still it was tough for folks to think of life without Mughals around? Mughals believed to be their last hope towards freedom.

‘I’m William Hudson, the leader of ‘Hudson’s Horse’ cavalry. Unfortunately, they don’t know about me. Ah…. I really don’t want to kill this poignant crowd but if I’ll not have any choice then I won’t regret it but others.’ yellow-haired tall William Hudson twisted his big brown mustaches with ruthless eyes annoyed. He demonstrated his gun in the air and stride near the crowd on his horse to display his might.

                 ‘Look at down, we can’t bear more blood on our necks. Wake up, my child. The war is ended. We’ve lost. It’s time to make a deal, not to show egotism. My experienced eyes can foresight the doom which your young blood is unable to smell,’ Bahadur Shah explicated his sons.

  ‘Don’t worry Aba Huzoor. These are my loyal men, who will fight by heart for us,’ Prince Mirza Mughal was still determined.

‘Go and tell your commander. We’ll not surrender.’ Prince Mirza Mughal longed to give last chance to fate.

The officer looked around the graves. His eyes observed the scared Mughal kids. He smiled wickedly and left.

‘Ok then go outside the walls of the tomb.  Fight in front,’ Bahadur Shah screamed at his son but started to cough badly and fell. Queen Zeenat Mahal held the king.

‘I’m ready to lead,’ Prince Khizar took his gun and moved to the garden.

‘Don’t act like a fool. William Hudson is here with bad attentions. It’s better to play wiser now. In my opinion, some of us should surrender and get themselves arrested. Then the free part of the family will reorganize the force and will demand the autonomy of prisoners,’ Queen Zeenat Mahal gave the suggestion. 

 

‘Then who’ll be among to lay down his arms. I think you would love to send Prince Jawan Bakhat first,’ Prince Abu Bakar looked at scared prince Jawan Bakhat.

 

‘Let William decide this. The prisoner would be the hero of the crowd outside. May we come to another level headed deal,’ Queen Zeenat Mahal argued strong. 

 

‘I only yearn for the guarantee of life for my family and my people outside in any deal,’ Bahadur Shah favored her.  

The air was also bitter today; leaves were shattering fast on the graves laid in the garden of the tomb. 

      ‘What these Mughals think of them?’ How can they refuse to surrender,’ short-tempered William Hudson ordered his men to take positions?

The crowd around looked for someone from the tomb to command them but just the wandering air was crumbling at the closed gates of Humayun’s tomb. Just then a messenger came inside with Zeenat Mahal’s letter.

William Hudson entered the gate and reached straight to frail king without any resistance.

‘Mr. Zafar, the sun stays fixes at his place. It’s the earth which tilts to bend its rays and suffers coldness then. We could make your empire history when your father Shah Alam 2 was defeated at the Battle of Buxar. The generous British government did you a favor, feed you on its pension for long and you showed us your back. We never expected that this frail patient can lust for life again. It’s just unbearable for the British government,’

 

              ‘I’m sorry sir Hudson but you didn’t feed us but your industry is feeding on the sweat of our farmers’ labor at cotton and wheat fields. It’s your taste buds which lust for our spices that you captured our land,’ Prince Khizar couldn’t stop himself.

 

‘You have been very emotional and tough however Mr. Khizar but I have come here with full authority from Governor-General of Hindustan Wilson. I promised him not to bear the single white blood otherwise….,’ William Hudson got furious.

‘Are you going to surrender or my men…,’

‘Take a breath, Sir Hudson. Please sit down,’ Bahadur Shah asked his servants for refreshment.

 

‘We can come to a deal. We announce our official surrender and will ask the crowd to go back. You declare this tomb as a sub-jail and ask the British government for any middle way. In other cases I won’t be able to stop my sons,’ Bahadur shah continued in a rather confident voice.

‘The autumn seems harsh this time,’ Princess Hamida Bano looked at the bop of leaves inside the chambers when suddenly the strong wind passed by the tomb’s garden.

 

‘The continuous slogans and roaring of the crowd outside the walls are coming to his nerves now,’ Prince Abu Bakar pointed towards William Hudson.

‘No, he is an arrogant man, who is depicting the face of winners,’ Prince Mirza Mughal replied.

 

Bahadur Shah hardly reached a big wooden chest, which he lugged from Red Fort with him.

‘Are you going to present this? We have a lot of memories attached to it?’ Prince Khizar looked at him taking out a scabbard of a precious sword with the engraved seal of his great grandfather king Jahangir. Bahadur Shah didn’t answer and took out another magnificent sword named after a warrior Nadir Khan.

 

‘I’m sorry, my boy, Prince Abu Bakar.’ He remembered whenever his young, active fair-colored grandson visited his room, he always insisted to play with this sword.

 

King Bahadur Shah came outside the main chamber with a fit of pique.

William Hudson stared at him and then on the overhead sun above the row of Sufaida trees.

 

‘Present these swords to Queen Victoria as a sign of our gratitude and loyalty in the future. The safety of my family is my only demand. She would

show her favor on us,’ Bahadur Shah presented those with shivering hands but with composed facial expressions. As seven skies fell on the graves, as the darkness took over the brightness. Prince Mirza Mughal felt something wet close to his eyes.

‘But soon I’ll snatch these swords back,’ he promised at heart.   

 

The news of the surrender of the king spread quickly and the crowd outside disarmed themselves quietly.

 

‘Though it was a time of lunch it is ok,’ William Hudson took a salty cookie from the refreshment presented to him. After having refreshment calmly he turned to the resented Mughal family.

 

‘I respect your words, Mr. Zafar but according to my intelligence report, your prince can manipulate the situation again. I want to take prince Mughal and prince Khizar as the undertaking of your surrender…but don’t worry, they will not be harmed…and may be released after the situation is settled,’ William Hudson stood up, clean his hands, and gave his final words.

 

‘We don’t believe in you,’ Prince Mughal tried to yell but his voice stuck in his throat.

 

‘That’s your choice, Mr. Ex crown prince then my soldiers are ready to trap your poor public outside,’ William Hudson was very clear.

 

‘But… If…,’ Bahadur Shah spoke after a deep silence.

 

‘British officers keep the honor of their words. Your princes will not be harmed,’ William Hudson consoled Bahadur Shah sharply and instantly called his 10 horsemen to take the princes towards Delhi.

 

‘Won’t you go with your father today or you’re scared,’ Prince Jawan Bakhat twitched Prince Abu Bakar.

 

‘Stop, I’ll also go with my father,’ Prince Abu Bakar called from the back.

 

‘For sure, I don’t mind,’ William Hudson stopped by disdained.

 ‘Our people will mark our capture as a heroic attempt and we can manipulate their sympathies for the restoration of our empire,’ Prince Abu Bakar sat with his father Prince Mirza Mughal.

 

The sun was down behind the row of sheesam trees now. The mood of William Hudson went black as soon as he observed the row of people crawling behind the bullock cart.

 

British sarkar murdabad( may the British government be ended)

 

Queen Victoria murdabad

 

Jay Mughal sultanate (long live Mughal legacy)

 

          After the failed attempt of mutineers, these Mughal princes have started dreaming about putting up an autonomous state against the British government. No prince, no dreams, no hopes,’ Hudson thought furious. The crowd was multiplying with time and was blowing the fuse of William Hudson.

 

‘What these people think of the British government.’ He ordered to stop the bullock cart near Khuni Darwaza(bloody gate), just outside Delhi.

 

‘William’s attention doesn’t seem right,’ Mirza Mahal got worried.

 

        ‘Don’t worry, he can’t do anything in front of our public,’ Mirza Khizar came out first.

 

‘Strip off your shirts now,’ they all got stunt at the next order.

‘You can’t humiliate us like this. We’re the heirs of great Mughal Empire,’  

 

‘Sir William, keep the honor of your words. Just take us to the jail,’ Prince Mirza Mughal said loudly.

 

‘The honor of my state is more privileged for me than any words and by the way, losers don’t have the right to make deals. I damn care of that 81 years old man. Strip off you right now, otherwise…,’ Hudson held his gun straight.

 

The three Princes looked at each other helpless and put down their shirts.

 

‘British sarkar murdabad

 

Queen Victoria murdabad

 

More people gathered there and got furious at the insult of their princes.

 

 ‘Ahhh…. You all fool browns. Your end will be the example for the others, who are confronting great and powerful British government anywhere on this land.’ His eyes got red and he couldn’t have control over his gun and eradicated them. Just in seconds the three princes fell and drowned in blood. The busted red color stream made its way through the bricked road. A deep silence crept among the public after looking at their beloved leaders distorted naked on the ground. The

 

orange sun and many around witnessed that betrayal flabbergasted. After rising and shining for more than three hundred and fifty years, Mughal descendants were murdered naked and helpless.  

 

‘Long live Great Britain

Long live Queen Victoria’

 

William Hudson got hysteric. He went near the corpses and took off their signet rings, precious turquoise diamond armbands, and jeweled swords. These are the booty; these are the trophy of this war. Queen Victoria would love it. He kept them with him.

He roamed here and there boiling in furious. Our innocent women and kids were killed in front of these Mughals at the red fort but they didn’t utter a word. Now they were expecting amusing farewell.

His feelings of revenge couldn’t soothe even after insulting the dead bodies. He took one sword, which he just looted from a dead body, and cut their heads one by one.

 

‘Present these slain heads to their father and throw these bodies in the front of the city police station. From now no one would dare to stand against us,’ he ordered his men and jumped at his horse. 

 

‘Aba Huzoor, He betrayed us. He killed all…my brothers…their slain bodies are left at the police station to exhibit…how could anyone do this with Mughal’s heirs,’ Princess Hamida was shattering in tears.

 She looked at his father and tried to hold him but Bahadur Shah fell after looking at the quiet cranium of his sons.

 

‘I’m sorry, my kids, I couldn’t shield you. My lord, 

I don’t want to stay in your world anymore.

Tears gushed in Bahadur Shah's eyes.

 

‘Bravo, I made it,’ Queen Zeenat Mahal didn’t try to conceal her feelings upon the end of her though thrown rivals. She ran to Prince Jawan Bakhat who just entered gloomily.

 

‘Look my son, how I cleared your way to the throne,’ she got excited.

 Prince Jawan Bakhat didn’t utter a word and just put forward a paper towards her. He didn’t have clue why he was mourning; on the demise of his throne rivals but brothers or for ending at Mughal legacy but his tongue was jammed to say a word for long.

 

              ‘British government has announced the termination of Mughal sultanate for forever. No heir claiming the throne would be entertained in any way. An inquiry commission would investigate the reasons for mutiny in Delhi. Anyone who would be found convicted in supporting the rebellions and in the killing of European prisoners in front of the red fort would be punished by the court,’ he read the letter.

‘It can’t happen. I’ll fight…,’ Queen Zeenat Mahal continued yelling holding her head.

 

‘You’re too precious for me, my son. I don’t want your end like your brothers. I’ll not…I can’t…,’ she thought terrified.  The night was darker and blacker.

‘We should better leave your uncle’s home and never come back,’ she ordered to arrange a cart. Princess Hamida Bano was still staying there with her father.

 

After three days of the killing of his princes, the British soldiers entered the Humayun tomb and arrested the aged and feeble King Bahadur Shah Zafar and mistreated the women there. Princess Hamida Bano hardly made her way out to her home. Bahadur Shah Zafar was sent to exile in Rangoon, Burma after the court trial accusing him of responsibility for the killing of European prisoners, where he died at the age of 86 and the Mughal sun eclipsed for forever. Queen Zeenat Mahal and Prince Jawan Bakhat hid in the suburbs of Delhi and spent their days selling the jewels from glorious days.

 

British families settled in Delhi with might again. East India Company was finished and Subcontinent was given under direct control of Queen Victoria. Umer came out of prison bearing wounds of punishment at the jail as someone interceded for him especially.

Angeline was waiting for him outside the jail with a horse cart.

'The sacrifices of my friends will not get wasted. We've set a path towards freedom which will end at freedom. I'm sorry, Ashoke. I couldn’t make your last wish but the fight is not ended yet,' Umer sighed and looked at the sky. He looked at Angeline who was waiting for him against a cart.

          'You can...,' 

'We’re travelers of opposite destinies, Angeline. We can’t be on a single ride,' Umer cut her up and walked aside somewhere at murky paths leaving Angeline behind. Angeline left Hindustan and went back to Yorkshire.

Syed Ahmed khan and Princess Hamida Bano came to Ghalib’s house before leaving for left for Muradabad. 

‘I don’t know why everyone has stopped talking…stopped writing… Folks are still traumatized at the vicious ending of their adored Mughal sultanate,’ Mirza Ghalib was reacting hysteric on looking at the papers around.

‘What would happen if we win this war? What would be bad if princes not killed?....

Is there anyone who can reason this trounce and let us out of its ignominy,’ he yearned at Syed Ahmed Khan.

Ghalib recited his poem (ghazal) loud and depressed.

Syed Ahmed Khan and Princess Hamida stayed there for a while and left as Syed Ahmed Khan had to join his job again to make his living. 

Princess Hamida Bano offered her all ornaments when Syed Ahmed opened his first school named Gulshan at Muradabad in 1859 and Victoria School at Ghazipur in 1863. A few years later, Umer Khan also joined Syed Ahmed's education cause. On that day, he was interviewing the candidates who came there for a job.

'Is there any vacancy for a lady doctor, sir,' a familiar voice approached near? 

 'Angeline...Am I dreaming,?' he got up with a pleasant surprise. He couldn't believe the green eyes, he never missed to remember in all these years were sparkling in front of him.  

'Angeline is appointed as a lady doctor in Convent hospital and she is here to join our cause too,' Sir Syed Ahmed Khan came behind. 

In 1875 Syed Ahmed Khan met his mentor Ghalib’s dream by founding the first Muslim University in South Asia-Muhammadan Anglo-oriental school to set the trail towards real freedom from British aliens which became possible on 14^TH August 1947, after a long striving struggle of one more century by the residents.  

Every sultanate thought how much grand has to see the fall one day but they always remain alive in the hearts of folks because of their splendid marks on history. Mughal sultanate gifted arts, architecture, boom, and civilization to the subcontinent that why it is still breathing at hearts of inhabitants of Hindustan and Pakistan, regardless of any territory and religious disputes.

 

 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.

 

The end