Baijilal

Baijilal

All the children rushed to the temple courtyard to hear stories from their jija. She would tell them tales from Ramayan, tales of the brave men and women of the soil who sacrificed everything for their motherland and sometimes if they requested her she would also tell tales of brave kings and princes who fought against the world for their love. 

Today they were going to ask her to tell them the story of dhola-maaru, the child lovers who were estranged before being reunited only to face hardships, tests after tests to come out as victors and lead a happy life. Ajabde caved in as she narrated the story earning sighs, oohs and ahhs at the appropriate times but her eyes were on one girl who seemed to be struggling with her emotions. Instead of daydreaming her eyes held anger and at the end when almost everyone had left she walked up to her and asked,

“Jija why did Maaru send those letters to Dhola? Why couldn’t she forget him like he forgot her?”

Before Ajabde could answer her back the alarm bell was tolled, and a voice rang out, “dacoits are coming. Hide”

Ajabde grabbed the girl and rushed inside the temple where other people also had taken refuge. Leaving the girl with others, Ajabde grabbed a sword kept in the corner and took her position. No dacoit was going to harm the innocent people taking refuge in the shelter.

Kunwar Pratap, Rao Ramrakh and Rawat Chundawat’s sat looking at the outline of the area map. They had received news of regular dacoit attacks in nearby areas and was looking at ways of aiding them. Kunwar Shakta walked strode in angrily, “why are we feeding that man?” he questioned the men. 

The young prince was agitated as he continued, “it's been three days since we found him, and he has not said one word about his so-called information. So, why is he still alive?”

The men looked at each other and then at the young prince. Rawat ji stood up but before he could say a word, Kunwar Pratap voiced his disappointment

“that is no way to speak to the elders, bhai.” He looked at his brother who quickly apologised to the men and then asked his brother

“I apologise for my rude interruption but tell me dadabhai why are we keeping that traitor alive?”

“Baijilal,” Kunwar Shakta repeated the name that Dhaman Singh had told him. “So, this Baijilal knows where bhabhisa is hiding?”

Rawat Chundawat nodded his head, “find Baijilal and you will find Kunwaranisa.” Pratap looked out at the blue skies as he started making a strategy on finding Baijilal.

Ajabde handed the balm to the ladies who applied it to the injured men. It had taken them sometime before the dacoits ran away after being defeated by them. She had killed the two dacoits who had entered the temple complex before help arrived there. She checked up on everyone before leaving for her home. Patta was helping with the rebuilding of a broken shed so she still had some time to prepare the meal.

“Jija,” a girl’s voice rang out. The girl whom she had saved in the temple stood in front of her with a group of girls and spoke up, “teach us self-defence so that we may fight back against the enemies who try to harm us and our motherland.”

Ajabde looked at them “come to my hut at dawn tomorrow, we will start with the basics.”

“Ji Baijilal,” they responded with huge smiles.

The atmosphere in Chittor court was tense as Kunwar Shakta demanded Dhaman Singh’s public execution. He had returned back to Chittor with his elder brother and Rawat ji holding Dhaman Singh as their captive. The news of Dhaman Singh’s capture had sent the whole court in a frenzy for the man was considered as a loyal servant of Mewar. 

Dheerbai sat in her chambers tensed as the maid informed her about the on-goings of the court.

“Dhaman Singh has been sent to solitary confinement till Rana ji makes a decision,” the maid told her. The queen sat disturbed for there was no way she could end Dhaman Singh’s life in solitary confinement but leaving him alive meant her downfall. She needed to find a way to end the man’s life but before that, she needed to have Rana ji under her control. She smiled as her fingers caressed the paan-dan kept near her, “tonight will be Dhaman Singh’s last night” she thought to herself.