The Prophet Pt. 2

4.

Kalyani is a calm quiet city on the banks of grey Narmada. Dusty from an evening squall, Kalyani welcomes the caravan of Ravianand with subtle modesty, at the gates the company was awaited by two monks, both bald and clad in saffron, who guides  Ravianand, Ravi and two elderly monks, through tiny trails next to brick walled houses, sometimes next to barren fields, till they reach the outskirts of the city. There in a jungle the monks lead the group to a big abandoned house which is the dwelling of saint Gyanendra. It has been dusk and the sunlight  slowly leaves the country, as the company enters the household.
                               Its a big house and as Ravi notices, well lit and provided for. Each traveler is given a separate room in the innards of the house and a modest welcome dinner awaits them in the hall. Ravi notices how happy and relaxed everybody seemed. The womenfolk, gay and chirpy, while the male population, content and fearless. 
                      It wasn't until then, that he notices the difference in the condition of the peoples and he realizes that he is away from home. Away from familiarity, a familiarity which entailed living in a constant state of fear, unsure of the future, and he  becomes uncertain whether he likes this soothing unfamiliarity or if the feeling of pain more at having left Chalal and Parvati behind.
His mind reels back in time, back to Parvati, when suddenly in his room comes Ravianand. The saint's condition, much better than before, is yet not completely healthy. He walks with a stoop and it is palpable on his face that his whole body, every cell, every molecule, is fighting, fighting a losing battle. 
The saint comes and sits near the monk, who in turn, collecting himself, sits up as well.

' Baba, kaise ho?'

' Pahele se behtar, but I can feel my body losing the battle. But how are YOU Ravi? You look distraught.'
' Baba, I am worried about tomorrow. What if the Marathas and the Deccan Sultans fail to unite against the might of Aurangzeb? Individually they are nothing in front of the northern might, and what shall pass if the emperor takes control of Dakshindesh as well? The same religious bloodshed?'
The saint listens with a grave expression and finally says, "You know, Ravi, jab maine ghar  ,I did not dare tell Ma about it, for I knew she would convince me to stay somehow, but I felt that it was my duty to tell father, I thought he'd understand, but he did not, he couldn`t understand why I had to go, leaving all the comforts behind to search for something I didn`t know anything to begin with. But as he could see that it was impossible to convince me otherwise, kissing me on the forehead, he said, ' Beta Ravianand, remember, always be a good human and whenever you are lost or can't find the path, ask yourself, '' who you are? where you come from? and where are you going?" and you ll surely see light."
Its time for you to do the same Ravi, the time has come to do the thinking, I have a task for you, think about it too.'

               The saint slowly stands up, and with the same stoop goes out of the chamber, leaving Ravi alone, with all color flushed from his face. 
5.

Parvati,

I think finally the time has come to tell you this, or maybe its too late and I shouldn`t tell you this at all. I was torn between the desire to tell and the fear of its outcome and I have waited a long time, been patient, introspective about my feelings, doubting them, feeling guilty about them, but now, right now in this moment, I am free of all the burden of good or bad, right or wrong, for I am one with the moment. 
Parvati, I have always respected you, since the day I first saw you in the ashram, when we were but little kids, I have respected you as a fellow human of higher emotional and intellectual content and whenever I have talked to you, I have felt a pull towards you, like I am being drawn towards you, by your dark, deep-set eyes, by your short thick black hair and Parvati, today I am telling you something which maybe I wouldn't have told you if baba hadn't given me this task. This particular thing which baba wants me to do is the reason I have been able to muster enough courage to tell you this.
I cannot reveal the details of this task assigned to me but I see it as an opportunity to turn all the respect and gratitude I feel for baba, into action, and maybe put all the wrongs today, right. This I believe is the only opportunity I can get in this life time to repay my debt to baba. 
But, the real reason for writing you this letter Parvati, is that I want you to know that I love you.  My life Parvati has not been a comfortable one, but whatever comfort I experienced I experienced by looking into your deep dark eyes, which have given me strength and courage in my darkest hours and Parvati, right now, I need the comfort of your eyes more than ever, I feel like a tired man, hopeless, the sun is setting on my horizon and I need you. Sometimes I wonder if we are really better off than these eagles flying in the sky, these dogs roaming in the streets, these cats that seem so satisfied? Is our consciousness a gift or a curse? But all these questions go away as soon as I think of you Parvati, you are the shining star in my night sky, you are my guiding light. 
I have come to a conclusion, I have made the decision. I believe in baba and I will do as he wills. Having said this I must tell you that I feel very hollow and empty, in a very positive way. I am ready to do what I have to do.
I leave for Agra tomorrow, and at Shangri La, I`ll wait for you.

6. 
The art of history writing is a tricky one, the reader has to gauge the intention of the author, sift through the sources and read between the lines. But what if there are contradictory stories about the same event, what if the sources are fuzzy.
                               According to some lesser known medieval Bhakti sources, the morning of 16th December 1707 was a cold and wet one. It was too cold for even that cold winter morning in Agra. The sixth Mughal ruler of the Indian Subcontinent, Muhi-ud-din-Mohhmad Aurangzeb, was stepping into his 47th regnal year and a big feast was organized in the Red fort of Agra, inviting all the local rajas and chiefs along with many monks and saints. Although the whole royal entourage had a calm composed facade, and a festive gaiety was maintained, those who were associated with the state affairs knew that things were far from either festive or gay. A tension was slowly building, with each passing hour. All the rajas and chiefs were seated in a big hall in the innards of the fort, which was well provided with food, drinks, and light music, away from the increasing activity in the fort, while discussions raged on in Ibadat Khana various religio- philosophical discourses took place amongst the monks and the saints. Once, all the guests had arrived, the gates of the fort were closed and it was not until Aurangzeb had made his appearance in the hall, with his compelling company of royal body guards, that the invited ruler elite, began to sense the tension in the surroundings. But by then it was too late, they were helplessly trapped in the fort with their horses and carriages somewhere hidden from them in the huge Agra fort. 
While all this was happening in the hall, the Ibatat Khana was having its own riot, scholars and monks were engaged in furious debates over issues of higher mental facility. 
Although, no one noticed him, there in the congregation of the learned there was a bright, bald emaciated monk too, clad in bluish white, who looked around for something with shifty eyes, not at all interested in the happenings around. In the mughal royal hall, Aurangzeb, to a highly nervous and anxious gathering, officially announced his plans for a Deccan campaign and without standing any ceremony, asked them for their support, without which he declared they couldn`t not leave. 
                              The narrative of the record is fuzzy about the incidents that followed during that cold day of December. The emperor left the local elite to discuss his proposition and come to a conclusion, locked in the royal hall. From there he went to preside over the happenings at Ibadat Khana, which became hushed like a graveyard upon his entrance. All monks gathered around the Emperor to greet him, who had spared the scholars the overpowering presence of his royal body guards and there was quite a free interaction as the Emperor wanted to project himself as a salvation of his subjects, requiring a good report with them. While the interaction was happening, the emaciated monk too made his way to the Emperor, with a sleek sharp steel blade hidden in the folds of his clothes and when, close enough, on the pretext of hugging the Emperor, stabbed him, once, neatly through his heart, killing him instantly.

The Prophet Pt 1

1.
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.