No known written record has been found in India medieval history about saint Ravianand Chalal, who was supposed to be influential and active in and around the Himachal region of north India. Like so many saints, who have been obscured by the clouds of history since populating the medieval Bhakti period, which stretched from early fourteenth century to mid seventeenth century before it gradually petered out under the British, Ravianand Chalal supposed to have lived during the reign of Aurangzeb, which though wasn't the best period to thrive as a Bhakti saint, was at the same time one of those high tides of time when people are ready to die for their beliefs.
It drizzles bleakly on the Chalal forest, blue and black in the night of that cold December, as a bright bald monk, clad in bluish soaked-white, waded through its rain soaked thicket. It is absolutely dark and as the monk makes his way through the bushes and shrubs, a pale faraway light comes into view. Seeing it, a new strength seeped into the monk and with renewed energy, his limp walk turns almost into an unsteady run. The look on his face remains tense and anxious while he feverishly clutches at the package he is carrying.
A foreboding howl of a wolf echoes through the forest, as the monk enters the dwelling, in which, on a mattress, lies Ravianand Chalal. He breathes heavily, and his left hand lies limply on his chest. He wakes up uneasily as the monk enters.
' Barish kya abhi bhi ho rahi hai? '
' Haan baba.'
He gives the package to a young woman, clad in white sari, who comes forward to receive it and then recedes with it into an inner chamber.
'Ashok told me the Emperor has destroyed yet another ashram?' Ravianand manages to produce in between moans of pain.
' Haan baba, Aurangzib ko apne khilaf kisi sajish ka darr hai aur woh dharmic sthano par shak kar raha hai.
The woman comes out of the darkness she had receded into, with a bowl of steamy liquid, there is a worried look on her face but she remains silent.
' Baba we must leave, its not safe here anymore, every day we stay here, we await our death. We have to leave Chalal.'
'What did vaidhji say?' the woman finally breaks in, not able to keep silent anymore.
' He says we need to take him to a warmer region. He recommends somewhere in Dakshindesh.'
The look on the woman's face turns even more grave as she helps Ravianand drink the content of the bowl, who instantly passes into a childlike slumber.
'Ravi, baba's condition is serious. He vomited blood thrice today and in the morning he mistook me for his mother. We have to do something.'
' The medicine should do him good' said the monk, solemnly, he knew the hollowness of his own words. The vaidh had told him that Ravianand has contracted a rare disease which will eventually kill him in a year or so. Ravi wanted to tell this to Parvati, but he somehow couldn`t bring himself to say it and as the sound of thunder roared outside, he said, ' We leave for Kalyani, tomorrow evening.'
2.
Born into a poor weaver family little Raviananda from a very young age had shown signs of compassion, curiosity, and an obstinate resistance to authority. He wrote ornate poems in which he tried to delve into the mysteries of the world, its illusions, its discrepancies and contradictions which became common in Himachal households of that time though they have been lost in the flow of time now. Raviananda Chalal, according to the native folklore, had a circle of disciples around him, who had traveled south during the worst atrocities of Aurangzeb. There he contributed to the regional opposition of Aurangzeb's policies and ideas. A prominent feature of Mughal governance, since the empire`s inception in the early 14th century was that the state policies were a delicate balance between the needs of a Mughal foreign minority and the wants of a motley majority of non Muslim groups inhabiting the Indian sub continent during the Medieval period, but this balance, fine and fragile was broken by Aurangzeb, and it resulted in a cut off from other religious groups leading to a stiff politico - intellectual opposition to the Mughals.
Parvati,
I am writing this letter to you after a long time, I know, but I had reasons not to do so before. We have safely crossed Agra, taking a detour of the city and things look brighter, at least than those cold hopeless nights at home, and its because I am a little more optimistic about this and am surer of our journey that I am writing you this letter.
Baba is better, you must be concerned, but do not worry, I know he is recuperating. I strongly believe that his is not a physical malady, it has more to do with his psyche, his intellect which is constantly revolted by the world today, the fear instilled in the hearts of people by the state, the bloodshed and the violence.
Since executing the Sikh guru, the Emperor has murdered countless numbers of innocent sadhus and sanyasis. And all for what? Spreading his message of peace? I fail to understand what to make of all the recent developments, Parvati, but I fear the Emperor is planning a campaign against Vijaynagar and a wave of panic is already spreading in south, it seems like we are the ones who are carrying this catastrophic news with us.
But as for now, our course is set, we reach Kalyani in 45 days and there try to awaken the rajas and sultans, and unite them against the Mughal might.
I am afraid I cannot write more for now. I hope this letter reaches you in your best health.
I will write soon.
3.
The relations of Aurangzeb with the non Muslim religious leaders had become very strained by the end of his reign, the symbolic act of beheading the Sikh guru, Guru Tegh Bahadur, in 1665 and many other such recorded and unrecorded incidents in Aurangzeb's life prove this, as does his popular image in the present Hindu milieu of our country. Apparently, no known reason for this sudden shift in Mughal state attitude towards these non Muslim religious and local communities, apart from the idiosyncrasies of Aurangzeb can be fathomed.
The Red Fort of Delhi has been bustling with activity. The Emperor is back from his northern campaign, and the royal red colored fort is peopled by a milieu of many colors. The whole fort looks like some curry being cooked in a big cauldron, with lots of different colored spices in it. Though there is a subdued gaiety in the womenfolk, the men look serious, solemn, at least those who are concerned or connected with the state affairs.
Emperor Alamagir's decision to start a Deccan campaign, with a bigger motive of ultimately bringing the whole of south under Mughal control, was to start with Ahmednagar and in the first wave itself the Emperor was planning to vanquish the states of Bijapur and Golkunda. There was a heavy burden of responsibility on the shoulders of the ministers to mobilize resources for the campaign.
Muhi-ud-Din Mohammad sits on the steps of his throne, dressed in simple casual clothes, in Diwan-i-Khas, which is shining brightly in the middle of a summer night, with numerous huge lamps and candles.
The emperor is surrounded by about half a dozen ministers, who are getting visibly worried as the Emperor's mood starts to strain with overwork.
' The Dhimmi have to pay, the ummah does its share of giving but the resources of Dhimmi have to be taxed too. We all know these temples and ashrams are not only filled with gold and silver, which can be used in paying off the debt of the empire inquired during the reign of my father, they can also be potential centers of subversion, that is the sole reason for their destruction, nothing is bigger than the Sultan who is the shadow of the almighty on this world...'
Sultan Almagir, an efficient ruler, knew how to get his will done. A god fearing man, he was genuinely convinced that all opposition to the Mughal authority was sacrilegious and was inherently and morally wrong and considered it his duty to bring the barbarian states under the emancipating control of the Mughals.
' The Mughal dynasty is a blessed dynasty, it is destined to go on for a thousand years, and for that we have to stop the barbarians and the outcasts from plotting against us, stop them from poisoning our roots. I have decided to embark on a campaign against Ahmednagar, Bijapur and Golcunda all at the same time, the morale of the army is high from the previous successful campaign in the north and we must utilize it. we would also need the support of the major Rajput states. It wouldnt be too easy in the light of the recent politico- religious developments, but it is has to be done.'
The Emperor takes a moment's pause, and then asks, 'How are our finances? and support?'
A rather short, cunning looking minster steps forward in response to the question and presenting a sheet of paper to the Emperor, says, ' Jahanpanah, the finances and support are not in a great shape, most Rajputs, Jat and Gujjar localities have withdrawn their support after the execution of the Sikh guru. But, hazoor, we have thought a lot and we have stumbled upon an idea.We have decided that the day of your birthday, coming winter, would serve as the perfect opportunities. we could call them all to the royal fort, and then start negotiation. We could also call some monks to give the whole thing their legitimization and a secular color.' Withdrawing to his original position he lets the Emperor mull over the prospect.
Almagir lost in the train of his own thought, finally says after much thinking, ' I, under no circumstance want those barbarians to think that the Sultan of Hindustan, is in need of THEIR help and that they have a choice to refuse or accept to offer resources. They have to feel like hostages the moment they set foot in this fort, with no discretionary power. I want them to concede to my demands one way or the other.' and with this, calling off the meeting in Diwan-i-Khas and he retires to his chamber.
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