If You Were In The 18th Century…

A Rajput Princess was standing amidst the battlefield. Her army had overcome the enemy and there was deafening silence in the valley. Her sword has severed someone’s head a while ago; and thick, red blood was dripping from it. She looked around; the ground was strewn with dead, wounded and unconscious soldiers. The sun was shining high and the drops of sweat trickled down her brow. The sticky, salty sweat began to irritate the wound. She had received a deep laceration from his sword. She knelt down and tied a handkerchief around her wounded arm.

She had always been an anti-war but sometimes circumstances force you to set aside all the principles. He was charming, he was sharp but he had deceived her. It was not the rejection that hurt it was the breach of trust that killed. This Rajput woman had two facets; soft, compromising, sacrificing, caring and ready to die for love and to kill and be killed if it came to her honor and name. That man perhaps knew nothing about that other facet; he took all her kindness for granted. He left her when things were apparently going well. He had no explanation; he didn’t bother to give any. She longed and wept for him for many days; her softer side had overtaken her completely.

One day while she was writing in her palace she received a letter from him. He was marching with his armies to invade her small state. The state though small in size and population was an example of peace and prosperity. She, however, remained calm and cool and sent a herald with an invitation for negotiations. The herald came back with another letter. He had openly challenged her to face the scourge of his forces. She couldn’t believe her eyes that man whom she had once loved could go to that extent. She summoned her advisors and ministers and all of them unanimously agreed to fight the enemy. They sent spies to collect information about the strength of the enemy. The Defense Minister informed her that the sinews of war were enough for a month long battle.
She sketched out a strategic plan; from writing a love ballad to planning a war with her ex beloved; the transition was just too sudden. But it was better to die rather than to be disgraced by the invader.

“He has just seen my loving side; let him see the other one. I am Rajputni; I have the blood of the warriors”. She thought.

On the day of battle she commanded her forces and led the attack. He smiled curtly when he saw her mounted on the horse; her face veiled and the glittering sword in her right hand. He threw down the gauntlet and with a war cry both the armies attacked each other. She was engaged in a fierce battle with him. He was a man; his arms were more powerful but he could see her eyes raging with anger and revenge. Their swords were emitting sparks and she was successfully defending herself. Then his sword slashed her left arm; with pain her grip on the sword loosened but she had to fight.

“Physical pain is easy to endure then the pain of love and separation”, she thought and targeted his leg. He couldn’t defend himself and fell on the ground. She dismounted and hit his right arm. A while ago he was a man with all the power and now he was lying on the ground helpless.

“Please don’t kill me” is all he could say. She leaned forward and said, “Never underestimate a woman’s strength. She has been chosen to create, to bring life into existence and not to take but if I left you, you’ll kill me. And I won’t let this happen again. You killed my trust… something inside me once.” With that she raised her sword and severed his head.

She felt a pang in her heart; she looked at his lifeless eyes. Those eyes had admired her eyes; her eyes that carried more fables than the One Thousand and One Nights; the eyes that were deeper than the ocean; the eyes worth dying for. She could have never done that to him, but he had challenged her honor and her existence. She turned around and unveiled her face; her nose pin sparkled and that resplendence was the only hope in the valley where silence, death and brutality had ruled.


DISCLAIMER: This is a work of pure fiction and resemblance to any person “living” is purely coincidental. :-P

NOTE: Even I am a dreamer :-)