This is the first book of Chitra Banerjee that I have read and it’s a historical fiction, which is by the way my very first attempt at this genre. I’ve never been very keen on learning historical facts despite being good in the subject back in school. Though my high score in the subject could undoubtedly be attributed to my rote learning skills and spewing it on paper. The book, however, was recommended in the book club amongst others. Since it was a different genre, I wanted to go out of my comfort zone and experiment. So, I, curiously, found myself voting for it. Obviously, it won the maximum votes and, owing to selection of the book in the club, I got another chance at visiting my favourite book shop in Khan Market, which also has a café on the floor above, where I read the first few pages sipping hot cuppa coffee while diving into sticky date cake.
I was instantly sucked into the story, more so because it was being told from a woman’s perspective. Our country has plenty of mythical stories along with historical events, but women have never held centre stage or their opinion counted upon besides a handful of them. What the queens thought or felt or went through has never been spoken about before. It’s only the kings, their noble actions, and deeds occupying space in the pages of history. Speaking of lauded emperor, up until now I’d heard only bits and pieces of the famous Maharaja Ranjit Singh. The book brought with it a wealth of knowledge of what he did for Punjab and how he united the misls to keep the British away from destroying the holy land of Sikhs. It also refreshed long-forgotten memories of stories my father told of the one-eyed Maharaja when I was a child, and why he insisted on me following the tenets laid down in the Guru Granth Sahib (the holy book). For instance, my father–being the conservative one, would admonish me severely when I cut my hair or ate paan, but my mother—the untraditional cookie—took delight doing just the opposite. Perhaps she wanted to invoke ire in him. Well, that’s a discussion for another time.
Coming back to the book, the portrayal of Rani Jindan, the last Queen of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, reaffirms our belief in romance, love and dreams coming true. After all, Jindan was the daughter of a poor kennel keeper, and who would have imagined that she would one day adorn the throne of the most beloved emperor. If we were to think of it, she never even aspired to be the queen, but became one. Was it destiny or sheer luck? Let’s leave that question for the astrologers, pandits and numerologists to answer. In my opinion, it was her beauty and intelligence that furnished the opportunity.
The use of Punjabi dialect in Rani Jindan’s inner monologue intrigued me the most, as I could see myself communicating my problems, my fears, my anxieties in a similar fashion with the almighty, which I believe is universal across cultures. These nuances and details captured by a Bengali writer is worth a mention, since it’s very rare that someone can understand someone else’s culture in such depth. At the book club, one suggested that he could sense the hand of a ghost writer, to him I’d say that even if it were the case, the writing is still beautiful and the story, wonderful, and that is what we should consider–a compelling piece of art.
At many points, Jindan came across as a strong, practical, wise, and most importantly, a quick learner. But there are instances where she is weak, vulnerable, selfish and, foolish even. ‘But, aren’t we all?’ some would say—and I’d said so myself. Even then it brings me to say that she made the biggest blunder of inciting the Khalsa army and misusing them to avenge a wrong. Amidst all this, the royal son, Dalip Singh, was the worst victim. He was manipulated by the British, taken to England, kept away from his mother’s love & care, made to believe everything “rosy” about the monarchy and even converted to Christianity, changing his ideologies and everything he stood for. His whole identity was taken away and kept under wraps till his mother emerged in his life many years later. However, the persistence of a mother and her efforts at surviving in spite of grave dangers to her life and many pitfalls show true strength of the woman. And as far as Dalip Singh is concerned, his personality could never fully blossom, courtesy the British monarchy. Nonetheless, it’s endearing to see that he came back to India, to his people—though nothing much was left of his kingdom—on recognizing the true intentions of the British and the administrative machinery.
In all honesty, while I didn’t feel much for Rani Jindan, her assistant, Mangla, stood out for me. Mangla’s loyalty towards Rani Jindan and to what extent she could go is unmissable, so is her reach. Similarly, the faithfulness of Avtar Singh, and, nuggets of wisdom from a father figure Fakir Chand makes me believe in the goodness of people. It is for people such as them that makes life easy.
Speaking of language, the sentences are beautifully written, encapsulating each thought clearly and in an easy-to-understand manner. Interestingly, while we are enjoying the perspective of events and how they unfold from Rani Jindan’s point of view–which is a fictional account, we are also attaining knowledge on historical events as they happened in reality. The fictional aspect of the book is beautifully interwoven with facts, which makes the reading all the more enjoyable and visceral. Though there are a few rushed up bits which seem stretchy before the final chapters, but I guess the writer was compelled to communicate the factual details before coming back to Rani Jindan, and what happened to her in later years.
Where the book covers all main good aspects of human existence—such as survival, love, intelligence, faithfulness—it also covers the demons of greed for power, wealth, treachery, and bloodshed. And how can I forget the famous—Kohinoor. On learning the origins and how it came in possession of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, it made me think that, even the great and beloved emperor had conquered it from the Afghans. So, if the British got their hands on it by trickery there’s isn’t much of difference between us and them. So why so much hoo-ha over it. After all, it’s just a piece of stone—I admit the most expensive one. But are we not the country that aims and preaches spiritual growth. Then why so much jibber-jabber over the materialistic piece of rock. Let’s get over it and move on!
All in all, it’s a wonderful read and I highly recommend it to all voracious readers out there!
