akdha ss/ff - the desert's rose - Page 4

Exactly! It's quite sad that none of us learned the true History of India and probably never will because History has been changed so many times to suit the needs of others.

as usual, my words are in bold here

Originally posted by: lkdaswani

I read in one of these papers that only male slaves were freed whereas female slaves remained untouched by this 'anti-slavery' law.

well, what the hell! (this is the same reaction I had when I learned that only white women got the right to vote in the 1920s. it perfectly shattered the illusion that I had, thinking it was all women who got to vote). this is why sanitizing history is such a bad idea 😭

Omg, I need to stop reading these papers otherwise Fitoori IS going to turn a horror story and nobody wants that. 😂😂
But these works are negatively affecting my opinion of Akbar and that might show up in the next chapter- I am being influenced by the TRUTH!! someone make it staaap!

they did say that you must never meet your heroes for a damn good reason 😭😭😭. this is also why I put in a disclaimer that I am writing about a fictionalized character and not the real person himself cause what the hell 😂

Nah, in fact I should take these works as a motivation and write Akbar as he should have been!

Jodha won't lose her identity in Fitoori! Even as Marium Uz Zamani, she's already gonna be famous af as JODHA BAI and no one would dare forget her. Gods, the feminist in me is truly truly raging.

as you should. such a woman should never have been erased and it is nice to see people making the effort to highlight the woman behind the title. she was more than Mariam-uz-Zamani and the fact that some people wanted to erase her- dear God, I am trying to stay calm, lol.

Indeed, history has always been political-- or has always been manipulated for political moves.

it only takes a while before the truth is eventually erased. only God knows what more we could have learned had people decided not to manipulate history beyond repair.

They say that 'past has a lot of lessons', that 'mistakes of the past are lessons for the future' but are they truly when Past has been diluted and edited and washed with biases?

Oh, yeah. I remember that- at one point it was just the white men who were allowed to vote, which...is why our world was at war so constantly back then, I believe.

In India it was slightly different under the Brits, only the rich- people owning property were allowed to vote. No women could vote, no poor person (even males) could have a say.
Only the rich. And that number wasn't high because we'd just been through five (and more) centuries of continuous looting. First the invaders and then the Brits.

Yeah, shows like Bridgerton (where the races are shown on Equal standing) are so brilliant to watch but then again, they are fantasy because the truth is far far harsher and equally horrific.
Maybe in some alternate Universe, it was true? They do say there exists a world were whatever you can imagine is true.

Yeah, History is not good for my feminist side but Indian mythology is BRILLIANT for feminism.
We have Shiv (The God of Destruction) , who is one half of a whole and he waits for eons to unite with his counterpart which is Shakti. They are always shown as half-male and half-female energies.

There is Sita, Draupadi, Radha, Parvati, Sati...all brilliantly badass women. All feminists at their core.

they tell us that those who do not learn from history are bound to repeat it but with the way they have edited, sanitized and manipulated history to their liking, what is there to learn from?

even from events we know of, we keep on learning new information like how they told us "Christopher Columbus discovered America" only for us to learn that he did not and the place he did tread on, he ended up massacring the native folks. or the Holocaust where they erase the fact that this was not a one-off event of Jewish/Romani persecution, but it is a culmination of lifelong persecution against the two ethnic (or ethnoreligious, in the case of the Jews) groups in Europe (and some parts of the Middle East and North Africa because the n*zis did collaborate with some political leaders in those regions as well). oh, and don't get me started on the trans-Atlantic slave trade, the horrific things I read about are enough to break the strongest of men😭😭😭. if these parts of history keep on getting erased, how do we expect people to recognize the patterns from the get-go?

yeah, it was not just white men in the US, I think Black men were also allowed to vote which angered the white suffragettes because white women were not allowed to vote. reading about what they actually thought and felt about Black people was eye-opening for me.

reading history for me is like "damn, multiple homicides" especially when you get to learn the actual truth of what happened. it is one of the reasons why I have turned to fiction because of how heavy a lot of the subject matters are. maybe in another universe, people were treated like human beings regardless of their gender, race, sexual orientation and the likes.

Hahaha, this reminds me of something my History teacher in school said (shoutout to Shaiwalini Mam wherever she is, may you only have peace and happiness in your life.) She said, 'History' when explained in short is 'His Story'. The victors- mostly male- write this story...this fiction and sell it as truth. Over time, we start believing in it.

Hopefully, we too will write stories that people will come to believe with such fervour.

See, this is why I am so bloody happy to meet like-minded people.
As long as people like us keep the flame burning within us, as long as we refuse to believe everything we are told blindly...from here on out, History will never tampered with.

This is the single reason why I love this day and age, we refuse to be quietened. We refuse to settle down. We refuse to accept that which is not worth us. We hold protests- for human rights, for Animal rights, for Tree rights even. We talk, we communicate. Sometimes these talks lead to nothing but sometimes...sometimes they work.

The Present time will soon become History for generations born a century later but the presence of the Internet promises that whatever happens today will never be erased. Thankfully or Unfortunately, as the case may be, the coming generations WILL know the truth of what conspired- whether that be good. Or bad. They will know and they will learn from the mistakes of their ancestors. For them, History WILL hold many lessons and for that I am thankful.

the aftermath

opening notes: by the time I was about to post this, I found out it was Independence Day in India today (or the day before, it will probably be the next day in India). so, I want to wish you guys a belated happy Independence Day.

also, I am still trying to figure out how to release the remaining part of "the wedding (part five)". at this rate, I may have to leave that part incomplete, unfortunately 🥲

flashback

His eyebrows furrowed as he found his king piece caught between Jodha's queen and bishop pieces. How she defeated him at this game every single time was indeed commendable.

Sujamal did not miss the grin on her face as she concluded with a gleeful "checkmate."

His lips stretched into a smile that did not reach his face as he congratulated her for a game well-played. However, it seemed as if Sujamal had completely forgotten how observant his cousin-sister could be when she decided to be (and that was almost every time).

No one could ever get away with lying to the Rajkumari and that included him.

"Sujamal Bhaisa," her calm voice brought him back to reality. "Is this still about the upcoming coronation?"

He stared into her warm eyes and he shook his head before calling for one of the dasis to clear the table of the chest pieces. He rested his back against the seat before letting out a sigh. It was about the coronation.

"Jodha," he started, his voice more sombre than usual. "Do you think I deserve to be on that throne? I have heard words and-."

"Sujamal Bhaisa," her voice was firm, her warm eyes taking on that fire the people of Amer admired her for. "This throne has always been made for you. I know Bhapusa considers you well, why would he not crown you as his heir?"

He wanted to shut his eyes in frustration, surely, Jodha was not naive to think so. Was she trying to reassure him even though the evidence glared right at the both of them? The probability of Kaka Sa making him the crowned heir was slim at this point.

Kaka Sa needed someone who would unite Rajputana for good in case the Mughals delivered on their threat of an invasion. Sujamal, on the other hand, was not interested in attempting to unite an already divided nation. The Rajput kings rarely agreed on anything with every visit to Amer ending up in heated debates.

Sujamal knew the Rajput kings would not waste a single second to attack Amer, why try to unite them when he could crush them before they made a single attempt on Amer? Kaka Sa was no stranger to his dissent, the old man believing in the "strength in numbers" cliche; for that reason, Sujamal knew the older man had selected another person as his crown prince.

He stared back at his cousin whose eyes still stared at him, awaiting an answer to her question. How would he explain to her that Kaka Sa was not going to pass down his birthright to him? Most of all, how was he going to explain to her the letter which sat at the bottom of the chest in his quarters?

flashback over

Yet, here he stood, his eyes brimming with tears of regret as he lifted one of the ends of Jodha's palki. He had managed to sneak into the wedding entourage in Sambhar with a disguise, avoiding almost everyone but Dadi Sa.

What gave him the illusion that he could dodge being detected by the ever-observant woman? Her eyes had widened as she saw her step-grandson through his disguise, her hands quick to pull him aside to a corner as she requested he leave the tent.

Not that he could blame her or anyone for that matter.

The moment he had heard the news of Jodha's rishta fixed with none other than the very emperor he had attempted to form an alliance with, he knew he had gone too far, way too far.

Her burning hatred for Badshah Jalaluddin Mohammad and the Mughal Empire was no secret to anyone. But in his quest for the throne, Sujamal might as well have handed over his cousin on a platter to the Mughal emperor.

And at the end of the day, it was all futile. The kingdom of Amer and the entire nation of Rajputana have slapped the label of a traitor on his name and Raja Bharmal still remained on the throne with Rajkumar Bhagwan Das as his crown heir.

In addition, any attempt to wage a war on Amer to reclaim the throne would be a counterproductive idea now that Jodha was married to the Mughal emperor. The last thing he needed was to face them in battle.

So, what did you gain in all of this?

His head turned slightly to see Jodha's hands slowly losing connection with those of Sukanya and Shivani. The guilt only managed to worsen his regret.

If only he had not join hands with the Mughals.

Maybe she would be married to Raja Suryabhan. Maybe this occasion would have been happier than whatever just took place today.

Maybe...

At last, Jodha could slowly let out a brief sigh of relief. A chapter of her nightmare was finally closed, thrown to the back of her mind and awaiting the erasing effects of time to take its course.

However, her eyes stared down at her ghagra and red-painted toes as she slowly anticipated his arrival.

She may have requested a separate tent be built but she knew he'd come over.

If he thought he was going to let him gain access to her body just because she had made her vows, then he had better think again.

And should he attempt to misbehave with her...her hand felt for the outline of a dagger underneath her ghagra.

One of the send-off gifts Maa Sa had given her was the dagger, a gift from Bhagwan Das Bhaisa. The dagger, whose outline rested against her palm, was crafted by Amer's best of artisans with its blade sharp enough to break through skin at the slightest contact.

Just as she had expected, her ears picked up the sounds of footsteps from outside, her gaze remained down on the floor, tracing the patterns of the floor. A gush of air signalled his entrance and her eyes caught sight of his shoes.

Slowly, her gaze moved up to meet his. Her breath got caught in her throat at the eye contact. Those hazel eyes were void of any form of expression and that had her heartbeat quickening.

If there was one thing her defence lessons from her earlier years taught her, it was that an unpredictable foe was more dangerous and to be taken seriously.

Maybe she needed to stop taking him for an enemy now that he was her husband but his stance had her sneak her hand to reach for the dagger as he slowly advanced at her.

She contemplated backing up against the bed as he got even closer to her but a part of her opted to stay rooted. Just a few steps closer and his neck would feel the sharp edge of her dagger.

He was so close she could take in the scent of his perfume, so close she could feel him. Her hand gripped harder on the dagger.

His head tilted to the side as he took in her features under the glow of the lamp. She flinched, turning her face to the side.

He tried again, this time, Jodha faced him and was just so quick to hold her dagger to his neck - way too quick. It was then that his expression changed from the stoic glance he held before to a smug smile.

Of course, he had expected something like this from the moment Badi Ammi had informed him that his new bride had requested a separate tent.

The implication was not lost on him as his feet took him straight to her tent only to be met by her bandhis, Moti Bai and Reva Bai. The two women exchanged looks between each other, wondering if they should go in to warn their mistress about her new visitor.

"Takhliya," he dismissed them with a wave of the hand. They both bowed slightly before walking away from the enterance.

His hands swung open the flap of the tent, his vision treating him to the sight of her seated on her bed with her ghagra fanned out and covering her red-painted soles and toes.

Her face was hidden from his sight as she stared down at the floor but he could tell she was acutely aware of his presence as she slowly lifted her head, her eyes meeting his.

It was then he noticed a raised outline underneath her ghagra and that almost brought a smile to his lips - the fact she still considered him a threat.

It was a moment of seconds before he stood in front of her, close enough to observe the features of her face - the way a strand of her hair peeked out of her veil or how the kohl highlighted her eyes.

Oh, how much he could get lost in those brown eyes.

Brown eyes.

What was special about them? He had seen so many of them, gazed into many as their owners batted their eyelashes at him with the hope that he'd grace them with his presence.

Yet, her brown eyes which stared at him with fiery passion seemed to enthrall him for reasons unknown to him.

His fingers reached out to touch her face when she turned her head to the side to avoid his touch just the same way she had hesitated in placing her hand in his during the wedding ceremony.

Playing hard to get, are we, Jodha Begum?

He made another attempt when she struck like lightning, a dagger pressed against his neck and he chuckled at the fact that she'd do this again.

It brought back that memory of her withdrawing Suryabhan's sword and holding it to his neck back in the prison.

He stared down at her with an unspoken dare for her to do her worst and her worst was what she did with the dagger pressed hard enough for it to break skin.

That was going to leave another scar for him to deal with.

"You seem to have a thing for my neck these days, Jodha Begum," he taunted, watching the moment where her eyes hardened.

"How else will I have your head on a platter?" She taunted back.

He scoffed, his hand going for the blade of the dagger. He barely reacted to the pain which resulted from him tightening his hold on the sharp weapon. It was in fact sharper than that rusty blade that Ameri trader had tried to sell to him.

Now that the dagger was in his hand, he glanced down to observe the design. He could deduce it was created by Amer's best blacksmiths and artists, making it of a better quality.

While Agra's craftsmen could make a run for their money, this was more impressive in the eyes of the Badshah.

"Such good quality," he muttered his observation, taking out a piece of handkerchief as he started to clean his blood off of the weapon. "Where did you get this?"

"F-from," she looked away momentarily before looking back at him. "Bhagwan Das Bhaisa gave this to me as a wedding gift."

"Hmm," he hummed in appreciation as he handed the dagger over to her. "Looks functional."

He then stood to his full height, looking down at her and he could still recognize her hardened glare at him.

"But you will not need that dagger, Jodha Begum," he started. "For I will be there to protect you from every danger that presents itself before you."

Suspicion seemed to join her list of expressions as she took the dagger from him.

"But no one, Jodha, no one will save you from me."

He watched with satisfaction as her face fell, those previously fiery eyes losing their spark as she looked away.

He smiled to himself at a mission well-accomplished. That was no threat, it was a promise - a promise of what was to come the moment they'd step foot into the soils of Agra.

Chittor, Mewar

Today marked the beginning of a dark page in the history of Rajputana - the day a Rajput kingdom would bend their knees to their enemies, the Mughals.

This was a disgrace, a slap to the face of everything Rajputana was meant to represent. An innocent Rajput woman had to pay the price for the selfish choices of the men who were to protect her honour.

One of such men lay on the floor before Maharana Pratap - his face fixed into a scowl as he looked down at the traitor before him. If it was left to him, Kunwar Sujamal's head would be placed on a pike as a cautionary tale for the others but death would be a merciful exit for him and traitors did not deserve such mercy.

"You must be so bold to show your face in Rajputana," the young prince said as he stared down at Sujamal, "after the sin of betrayal you have committed."

The disgraced prince's clothes were tattered and his face muddy - both visible signs of his struggle with the soldiers who dragged him into the courtyard. Pratap could tell that the man was too ashamed to even face him.

While it was way too easy to fault Raja Bharmal of Amer for bowing to the Mughals, Pratap chose to see the nuance of a desperate king who had to do what he felt was right for his kingdom - a step he would never have taken had someone not made the foolish decision of making alliances with Rajputana's enemy.

Now, stooping to Sujamal's level, Pratap grabbed the former by his chin, the man wincing in pain.

"I should kill you right where you lie," he hissed, his voice barely a whisper. "Because of you, Rajkumari Jodha had to make the ultimate sacrifice for the good of Amer. She paid the price for your ambitions to gain the throne of Amer, Kunwar Sujamal."

A groan escaped Sujamal, his voice strained as he struggled to let out some words, "I-I ne-ver meant-."

"Silence, traitor!" Pratap's grip tightened, the courtyard now silent. "You do not get the opportunity to say a word, not even a syllable or a letter from you. A man like you does not deserve that kind of luxury here. Have you any idea what your actions have brought to Rajputana?"

A flash of regret crossed Sujamal's face which was good enough for Pratap. The man ought to feel shame for his actions, shame and worse than that.

A deadly grin now lit up Pratap's face, "Death would be too generous, too merciful for you, Kunwar Sujamal. You do not deserve any ounce of mercy from me."

Standing to his full height, the prince signalled two of his soldiers, the men ready to take action as they were at Sujamal's side.

"Seize him," he commanded, watching as the men pulled up Sujamal by his arms. "Take him outside, throw him to the streets. Let the people of Mewar and Rajputana gaze into the face of the man who chose to betray his homeland. Let history witness what happens to people like him. Let this day serve as a reminder that Rajputana would suffer no traitor."

On his command, Kunwar Sujamal was dragged out of the courtyard of Mewar and out the fort of Chittor. With a smile of satisfaction, Maharana Pratap could hold his head high, his eyes settled on the horizon.

Today might have been recorded as a bleak chapter in Rajputana's history, yet it also signified the moment of retribution against the man responsible, and he had ensured this outcome.

closing note: I did not want to include this final part with Maharana Pratap because I did not know how I was going to write him in a way that would do his character a lot of justice. I spent some days trying to read more about Maharana Pratap, which led to this final part being written. I hope I did well with this one. this might also be the shortest chapter in this whole fanfic, lol.

Oh first, Good Job with depicting Maharana Pratap, he is just as ferocious as you've shown him and does not forgive easily, especially someone like Sujamal who - from a third point of view- DID betray his kingdom and his family for a throne.
But yes, I can see why you wish to play safe to not harm sentiments but when writing about him, just think of a freedom fighter and turn all that passion into words because, above all, Maharana Pratap wanted to fight off invaders and keep his land and culture intact. In a way he was fighting for freedom.

Also, I loved the interaction between Jalal and Jodha. This scene is always charged with both chemistry and UST. The shoemakers really knew what they were doing when they added this particular scene into the cut-- I really would like to see the deleted scenes as well but I don't think they ever posted them. Sigh.

The line "You seem to have a thing for my neck these days, Jodha Begum," made me wipe a tear from my eyes because you just made me smile so so wide. ❤️

Lol, it's so typical of Jalal to get distracted by a beautiful dagger even while he is duelling against the sharpest swords of all- Jodha's sharp tongue.
(In my mind this sentence sounded fine but now that I've written it down... meh, You know what I mean.)

Loved this chapter!! Looking forward to the next one. ❤️

hello, hello!

thanks for the advice on writing Maharana Pratap. I think MP as a freedom fighter was the one thing on my mind when I was trying to write him for this chapter. granted that this is someone from a culture and story that is not mine, I wanted to write him in a way that would pay respect to the man behind the figure (that and I did not want him to be stiff like the one portrayed in the serial 🥲). so, to hear that I did well in that is a blessing 😄🙏🏾.

for the Jalal and Jodha scene, I wanted to go for something different being that I already have a one-shot about what went on in the tent (and in the serial) while still trying to retain their UST (I hope I did that well, lol). that dagger is going to make its second appearance in later chapters but this time, Jalal will not be as impressed as he was in this chapter. tbh, I wish they could post the deleted scenes, a lot of them usually give us missing contexts (like that infamous letter which could have further explained Jodha's reason for burning Jalal's gift).

now, I have to edit the chapters for when our couple will eventually make their way into Agra and Hamida and Ruqaiya's POVs will be finally introduced. I cannot wait to post those two chapters.

I appreciate your feedback on this chapter and I hope you have a lovely day 😄💜

Such an awesome one!!! Don't stop writing!!

hey, thank you for your feedback, it means a lot to me and I do hope to write more 😄💜