Nurjahan's Daughter by Tanushree Podder Page B

for a moment.
    It wasn’t until after his bath and rest that a little of his old humour crept back into him and he smiled reassuringly at his wife.
    ‘My daughter has grown while I was away. Let me see how tall you have become,’ Sher Afghan said standing next to her. The little girl squealed delightedly and stood on her toes as he measured her. ‘Has my Laadli grown fat, too?’ he said, pretending that he could not lift her on his shoulders. ‘Oh, yes, I can’t carry her any longer.’
    ‘Abba, take me riding on Sultan. Ammi has not allowed me to ride for a single day since you left for Agra,’ Laadli complained from her precarious perch on her father’s broad shoulders.
    ‘Don’t you begin your sessions of complaints, little girl. Go and play outside while I speak to your Abba. Your grandfather has sent some new dolls for you, have you seen them?’ Meherunnisa asked, trying to distract the girl.
    Eager to see the new dolls, Laadli skipped away after warning her father–‘Don’t go anywhere. I will be back in a minute with my dolls.’
    Sher Afghan smiled indulgently at her and promised not to move till she returned.
    ‘It is nice to be back home, begum. I missed you and my little girl. It is so quiet and peaceful here.’
    ‘It might be good for you, but I am bored of this place, I wish we could go back to Agra. Is it just as I remember, or has it changed? Did the emperor mention anything about giving you a position in the court? Did he like the painting?’
    ‘It was a good idea to gift the portrait to that vain man,’ said Sher Afghan. ‘He loved that gift more than anything else.’
    They continued to discuss the trip as they moved to sit around the dastarkhan. Laadli had returned, and was sitting on her father’s lap, toying with a piece of meat, refusing to eat the food Meherunnisa was pushing into her mouth. She was excited to have her father back after so many months.
    ‘Is the emperor a good man?’ she asked suddenly, taking her parents by surprise.
    ‘Why do you ask?’ Meherunnisa and Sher Afghan asked simultaneously.
    ‘Because Hamida was saying that he had got one of her relatives flogged just because he broke the emperor’s favourite china cup. I keep breaking so many cups. Will the emperor get me flogged if I go to Agra?’
    ‘Of course not. No one can touch you as long as I am alive,’ said Sher Afghan, embracing his daughter protectively. ‘You must not listen to servants’ gossip.’
    The couple exchanged a troubled look over their daughter’s head. Almost everyone at Agra knew the story of the servant who had broken Jahangir’s favourite wine cup. The fellow was flogged mercilessly and put in prison till his wounds healed. After which he was given 5000 rupees and asked to travel all the way to China to procure a similar cup.
    ‘I heard that the emperor is a changed man now. Many of the nobles I met were full of praises for the emperor’s new laws,’ Sher Afghan said, picking a paan from the silver salver offered by Meherunnisa, who greedily devoured all the information that her husband supplied. Her eyes widened with interest on hearing of the ordinances and the Chain of Justice. The new emperor was taking steps in the right direction by winning the hearts of his people, she thought. The hot-headed and wayward Prince Salim had matured into an able emperor.
    But his position as emperor was not stable. Raja Maan Singh and Aziz Koka had not given up their hopes of crowning Khusrau. When Jahangir, who had spies scattered everywhere, learnt that the two were plotting another coup, he acted instantaneously, imprisoning Khusrau in the palace. Some nobles close to the emperor advised him to blind his son, but Jahangir was reluctant to order such a dreadful sentence.
    The rumour spread, however, that the emperor was seriously contemplating blinding Khusrau. When the prince caught wind of the news, he decided to escape from the palace; he knew there were forces within the palace