She has never wanted to be part of the royal life, has never dreamed of living in a palace and being one of the Maharanis(1); even when she was a small girl, playing in the gardens of the palace in Amber Fort. The times when her mother picked her up, held her in arms and told her that one day she would be a wife of the Mughal Emperor, live in the capital city and enjoy all the privileges of the palace life, she was nodding as if she was listening her; but she never did. Just she looked through the fence of the latticed window and searched for her future in the blue sky. It wasn’t that she would want to explore the world behind the walls; but surely there was something wrong with the one, she was living in. The borders had already been drawn and the path, she had to follow, had already been decided.
By that time, Amber Fort was the house of one of the Rajput clans, which was governed by her father. In the bigger picture, it was a state of the Mughal Empire, which had been the biggest enemy for all Rajput clans before. Her grandfather had fought against the Mughals and had opposed every incursion of them for long years. The Rajputs has always been a proud warrior caste with a strong belief of the chivalry and has lived by the ancient code of death before dishonor. But they could have never united against the enemies and has kept fighting with each other in other times. After the death of her grandfather in the battlefield, in his saffron-colored bridegroom dress, her father took his place and kept on resisting the enemy for a few years more. At last, he accepted to be a state of the Empire, with the privilege of autonomy in internal affairs.
Zafran’s father, a typical Rajput character, was just under 16, when got the news of his father’s death. He had been ordered to stay in the fort by his father before that hopeless attempt to defeat the Mughals on the desert lands of northeast Rajasthan. One day after he witnessed his mother’s act of sati(2). In both of the times, he didn’t cry, didn’t scream in anger. He had been raised as a man, who was devotedly attached to his traditions. Zafran didn’t have much time to spend with him. He had been generally away from home, as he had to join the Mughal armies with his forces, mostly consisted of the Bhils(3), in their cruises against the Marathas(4).
At the time she became a teenager, the pressure on her had already increased too much; as she had to behave in a proper way, as a member of the royal family, and had to join the palace ceremonies and formal visits to Agra, the capital city of the Mughal Empire. She hated all that rules, which she had to follow; desperately she was looking for a way out. Seeing her brothers’ building up passion for the throne everyday, she knew that once one of them would attempt to take hold of the throne during their father’s absence after killing the rivals. And then the time would come to present her to the emperor as a sign of loyalty.
It didn’t take her long to find a way to escape. On a chilly December day, when the gate of fort was kept open in order to accept the sacrificial animals and their owners inside, she found the few minutes she needed to vanish. Her mom was talking with other maharanis in the courtyard when she saw her for the last time. There was a wild disorder at the entrance of the fort as it was too crowded because of the locals, villagers, camels, horses and goats. It had been easy to pass the gate without getting noticed by the gatekeepers. The first thing she had to do was getting rid of her clothes, which gave up her royal identity. She changed her bright royal pink sari and petticoat with some old looking off white choli(5) and a beige petticoat under it, which she found inside of one of the villagers’ tents. She felt lucky, when she noticed the small caravan, which seemed to be preparing to leave the town. Quickly and quietly she stole into the last of the 3 cars, pulled by camels. Tedious few minutes she had after she covered herself with an old light brown cotton blanket. Thanks god, she didn’t have to wait too much as the caravan started to move in the southwest direction. A guy, aged around 45, was driving the front car. A young boy, probably his son, was the driver of the second and his elder sister of the third. They didn’t stop until a half hour before sunset. Outside of Ajmer, sitting around the fire, the family enjoyed their spicy vegetable thalis, cooked by the young woman. Zafran only had the chance to find some left over chapattis, after the group fell asleep.
The next day started very early. Zafran woke up to the voice of the old man, saying to his children that he wanted to arrive at Jodhpur as soon as possible since he had felt that things could get worse in Amber very soon. Zafran surely had heard about Jodphur before. It was the city of another strong Rajput clan, who has always been their biggest rival in the territory. Although there has been a pretended peace in the last couple of years, any men living in these lands knew that the situation could change easily. Only a lunch break was given that day.
Late at night, the caravan finally arrived at their home in Jodhpur. Zafran had already fallen asleep, before they entered the town. She woke up as the caravan started to climb on a stony narrow street and realized that she had to get out of the car as soon as possible. But she was too late as the cars stopped after few seconds. The young woman, probably 2-3 years older than her, noticed her when she started to unload the car. Like Zafran she had a dark long hair that covers half of her sharp-featured face. She didn't say anything; very calmly she made a gesture to tell her to keep quiet. After her father and brother went inside the house, she offered her hand to Zafran and led her to a small building, used as a barn. The calmness in her attitude had made Zafran to feel secure; she didn't hesitate to follow her, neither telling the young woman her story when she asked about it. Zafran hadn't thought what to say before, as she hadn't planned to be caught also. She had never lied before in her life also, didn't need to although lots of times she had been penalized for her behaviours. For almost an hour she talked and the young woman listened without interrupting her. "Sleep tonight here and tomorrow, before the sunrise, leave, and don't comeback after the sunset." the young woman said after Zafran told her every detail. "I'll talk to my father.” she continued and left her alone in the barn.
Zafran did exactly the same the next morning. She woke up and left the barn before sunrise. She realized that the house was set on the top of the city, just below the massive Meherangarh Fort, that grew out of a rocky ridge. She climbed a few meters up, found a place where she would not attract attention of the guards of the Fort and would not be noticed by the people passing below. As the sun rose, she saw the Blue City, lying under her. That's what people had called it for centuries. Dozens of blue buildings, mostly belonged to the upper caste –Brahmins-, surrounded by a 10 km-long wall…She sat on a big rock and cast her eye over the city. It was nearly impossible to see what was happening on the glittering streets of Jodphur, which surely made it more mysterious. She felt the peace; a peace when man feels when he realizes that he finds his place in this world. Relying on the protection of the Meherangarh Fort, of which the walls couldn't have been passed for centuries, she looked at the high clock tower in the middle of a market place and felt the joy as each minute was taking her away from the past.
As the sun set, she went down to the house as she had been told by the young woman. Tensely, she knocked the door and waited for the answer. A warm voice of the father was heard: "Please, come in." When she entered the house, she saw all the members of the family, the father, the two brothers, the young woman and her sister –probably younger than Zafran-, sitting on the floor, around the pots of hot meals. None of the family members asked her about her past. She never knew what the young woman had told them.
Few years later, the father decided to turn the house into a guesthouse for the merchants and travelers, before his older’s marriage and his all too soon death while crossing the Great That Desert during a business trip to Jailsamer. And that's how I met with this amazing woman. I had come to Jodphur to buy some spices, opium, sandalwood and copper. Late at night Zafran greeted me under the weak yellowish streetlight; the light, which seems to be put in purpose just to highlight her, when she sits on an iron bunk and views the high walls of the Fort as if she challenges her past. She glows in those moments, as the Blue City does under the desert sun.
I spent almost 10 days in this city with full of nice people; much more than I expected. And she was the only reason. I just wanted to be around her. Everyday, I witnessed how a special lady she is: the confidence in her walk, the joy in her smile, the childish attitude in her calling “Haaluuk” and the saffron in her dress and hair…
She’s a guru, and I’m her student, who had the luck to find her. As it is said: “A good guru doesn’t find her students, the students find her.”
(1)Wife of a princely ruler or a ruler in her own right
(2)Wife of Shiva; became a sati (honorable woman) by immolating herself
(3)One of main Rajasthani tribes, inhabited the southwestern part of the state and were regarded as splendid warriors
(4)Central Indian people who controlled much of India at various times and fought the Mughals and Rajputs
(5)Tight-fitting blouse
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As you can easily guess, the above story is a fictional one. But Zafran is real. She’s waiting for you to find her in Hill View Guest House, just below the Meherangarh Fort. Let yourself know this enchanting lady in Jodphur and let her play with you.
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