Jahanara: Novel Recounts The Political Glory Of Shah Jahan's Favourite Daughter

Little is known about Shah Jahan's daughter Jahanara, the most erudite of Mughal princesses. Even as an adolescent, she advised her emperor father on state affairs and diplomacy. Fending off the machinations of Shah Jahan's devious stepmother, Noor Mahal, who manipulated her husband Jahangir and later Aurangzeb like a puppeteer, Jahanara is known to have continually attempted to broker peace between Shah Jahan, Dara Shikoh and Aurangzeb. 

An unusual novel in Tamil literature, Sukumaran's Jahanara tells the story that Panipat stood witness to. It brings to vivid life a woman whose personal freedom was tossed into the hellfire burning between her brothers. Stifled by the veil of Mughal traditions, Jahanara found solace in writing diaries, which this moving novel draws upon.

Here's an excerpt from Sukumaran's Jahanara

Her body rises and hovers the ground; her garments loosen and transform into clouds; her pearl necklaces, bangles and bracelets come off and turn into shafts of light. Her shawl, woven with golden threads and pearls, twirls, twists and becomes rope-like—and then it squirms and transforms into a fork-tongued serpent emitting fire. Jahanara’s body is set ablaze. Clouds and stars rise, touching her body. The blueness diminishes into darkness. 

Unable to bear the heat, her scorched body begins to drop to the ground, turning into a ball of fire. As it is falling, a pair of large lotus-like hands catch her. Touched by their coolness, the fire is put out. 

Jahanara jumped off her bed, drenched in sweat. The air that entered the tent scorched her like a lick of fire. She drank some water from a pot. She poured the rest of it on her right palm and dabbed it on her face. ‘Ya Allah, what kind of a dream is this? Is it for good or bad? I don’t know. Whom can I ask for an explanation at this hour of the night?’ 

She lifted the curtains at the tent’s entrance and looked outside. There was no light in most of the tents. There was movement of dim shadows in a few. The lights were still on in the servants’ tents. So, some people were awake. Their conversations in hushed tones were audible. She could ask Ammi. She had enough experience in such things. Squinting her eyes, she looked in the direction of Arjumand Bano’s tent. The curtains at the sides were drawn yet the silhouette was visible. Columns of light escaped from inside the tent through the holes at the top. Ammi was still awake. That meant Abba was with her. Abba could not stay without Ammi, even in the battlefield. He had three wives apart from Ammi. But he saw something in Ammi that he did not in the others. When Jahanara thought what it could be, she felt a flutter in her navel. 

She felt a tickling sensation between her ribs, as if two lillies had blossomed. She tried to shake off the untoward thought. Just then, she heard the call of again: ‘Devi ….’ She felt wet lips pressed on her forehead. She touched her forehead. It was moist but not from her sweat. 

Why do such dreams haunt me? A few days ago, that serpent Noor Mahal ruined my sleep. When I got rid of her, this dream arrived. Earlier, my dreams were terrifying, whereas this is exciting but unsettles the soul. Who called me ‘Devi’ so longingly, just like Nala called Damayanti. Whose hands were they which held me when I slipped?

Jahanara felt as if she were descending into unending spirals of bushes. A cold breeze chased away the stifling heat of the Deccan. She returned to bed. She lay down and covered herself from top to toe with a sheet, gripping its edges tightly, so that the wet lips and lotus-like hands wouldn’t come near her again. She heard the footsteps of the guard on night watch. She counted them. Before they faded away, she was descending a stairway that wouldn’t end.

‘Begum Sahiba, don’t get upset so by these dreams. This is just a trick that your age plays. Every young woman has such dreams at your age. That’s what the physicians in the durbar say. Such dreams are common when the female body and mind are blossoming. They are a sign thSukumaranat a girl is ready to enter into womanhood. These dreams foretell that someone is going to come for you. Which Prithviraj is going to come on a horse to take away this Samyukta?’ Panipat said

Extracted with permission from Sukumaran's Jahanara; published by Eka Westland Books