Chapter 8
Is Mehr same as Anarkali?
The saga of Mehr’s beauty spread in Bardhaman and Hooghly like wildfire. In a century when there was no formal communication channel for the community to get the news, the roaming poets were filling the gap. They were roaming across the localities with musical instruments and songs describing the breaking news. People were gathering around them for listening the fascinating and juicy news and the roaming poets earned decent income. The spicier was the story, the loose was the strings of the purses of the public. It was common to add spices to the story to make them attractive.
Sher Afghan Khan was the Jagirdar (Administrative and Revenue head of a district) of Bardhaman. He was enjoying the power of a sovereign ruler as per Mughal laws and was behaving like a king with his subjects. Discussing his wife’s beauty openly in public would have been a serious offence. Roaming poets knew this as it was their professional hazard and avoided spreading such breaking news within the administrative region of Bardhaman. The smartest thing was crossing over that area and spreading the message outside Bardhaman didn’t require lots of effort. Word of mouth brought the breaking news to every household of Bardhaman and Hooghly within days.
Aditi was alerted on getting the message about Mehr. She had known before that Emperor Akbar had forced the wedding between Mehr and Ali Quli when she along with Nadirah was searching Anarkali in Lahore. She knew that Crown Prince Saleem was in love with Mehr. Only thing she didn’t know that Ali Quli was the same as Sher Afghan Khan. She was surprised to know how Mehr, who was wedded to Ali Quli by Akbar himself, became the wife of Sher Afghan Khan. She wouldn’t have been surprised had Prince Saleem, now Emperor Jahangir, forced Ali Quli to divorce Mehr so that he could have married her. She didn’t reveal her shock to anyone and ran to Hooghly.
It didn’t take long to clear Aditi’s doubts. Also, it didn’t take long for Suraj to join the ranks of Sher Afghan Khan. With the expertise and experience of fighting the pirates in the Bay of Bengal, he was considered an outstanding fighter and a boon for the powerful Mughal military. Mughal army was strong, so Portuguese never tried to challenge them. They remained content with only business permission in Hooghly by paying taxes to the Mughal exchequer. But Mughal fleet was no comparison to Portuguese navy, which was much stronger. That was the reason Akbar had advised his lieutenants not to provoke them, who were occupying Daman, Diu and Goa in Western India. Akbar had attempted to persuade Portuguese to sell him compact artillery and advanced fighter ships, but failed. Portuguese didn’t want to dilute their dominance in whatever field they had. Suraj came as a true missing link between the cup and the lip. He knew the use of the Portuguese compact artillery and had experience of leading their fleet to engage in the Bay of Bengal. Only thing he probably didn’t know was the technology to make them. His contacts with the Portuguese could have paved the way for Mughal to secure purchase of this precious compact artillery.
Suraj knew his worth. He also wanted to be close to the Emperor Jahangir with his newfound skill. That was the only way to start an investigation of his parents’ death and justice. But he cleverly decided not to move permanently to Bardhaman. His family continued to live in Hooghly. Saira continued to monitor the shipping activity from the mansion in Hooghly. It was the only city within the Mughal Empire where no military action would have been initiated as practically Portuguese was in control. Even Farooq shifted his base to Goa leaving a junior person to take care of the business in Firozabad. The ships of Suraj-Farooq partnership generally conducted their business in Portuguese dominated areas like Goa, Daman, Diu and Hooghly. Suraj was trying to be close to the Emperor. But he didn’t trust their system.
Sher Afghan Khan was told about the antecedents of Suraj and his once famous father Purujit. Purujit was his superior when he was fighting against the rebels led by Crown Prince Saleem who was now the Emperor Jahangir. Suraj was expecting he would show some compassion. He didn’t. He never recounted about his relationship with Purujit. Rather he was always boasting of his achievements against the Rana of Mewar. Suraj enquired in particular about him. Ali Quli was a mere table attendant of the Shah of Persia. He migrated to Kandahar of Afghanistan after his death. Good luck started smiling at him, and he finally reached at the helm of his career as a Jagirdar (Administrative and Revenue head of a district) of Bardhaman. Rather than being thankful to God he was always aspiring for further hike in his career. Aspiring for advancement is always beneficial. But if you are not obliged for what you got and still aspiring for better, may sometimes lead at the wrong direction.
Sher Afghan Khan was behaving like a king. Part of the revenue collected by him was going to the Mughal exchequer. One part was being sanctioned for maintaining the administrative structure and the small faction of the army which was under his command. There was still a fraction of the revenue which was allocated by the Mughal for development and welfare of the district. He was spending most part of that funds for maintaining his lavish king type life style. He was sending specific envoys to Persia to buy Persian luxury carpets, garments, cosmetics and even ornaments.
People said, he was doing all these to keep his beautiful wife Mehr happy. She was the daughter of Mirza Ghiyas Beg, who was also a migrant from Persia and from an aristocrat family. Mehr was the lover of prince Saleem and could have been the Empress of India had Akbar not interfered with the love story and forced the marriage with Sher Afghan Ali Quli Khan. This story contradicted the other theory that Mehr was none other than Anarkali, a slave girl. The other part of the story ran well with the story of Mehr: love between Anarkali and Saleem and rebellion by Saleem against his father. It might have been possible that Akbar asked Mirza Ghiyas Beg to adopt Anarkali and rename her as Mehr. Beg had unusually few relatives in India, so it was difficult to know whether Mehr was his real daughter.
Suraj tried his best to know the truth about Mehr. It was difficult. She was always living in the harem and was surrounded by Persian maids. Usually maids were the means to divulge the secrets of the harems to the outside world. Here, the situation was different. None of the maids knew the local language, so they were never mixing with the outside world.
Saira suggested approaching for getting a job in Sher Afghan Khan’s harem. Getting inside a harem was the only way to get the truth out. Nadirah slammed her feet down over the proposal. Saira was exceptionally beautiful. Nadirah didn’t like any nasty eyes turn on her. Powerful men of those days sometimes tried to force beautiful women to be their wives. They were not even sparing married women. Nadirah’s own case with Niyaz was one from hundreds of stories of those days.
Saira was adamant, ‘I can kill or even get killed if any such incident happens. Mother, you have taught me from the childhood not to be intimidated by anybody. You were behind my weapons training.’
‘Yes, I have taught you not to fear anybody,’ Nadirah replied, ‘that doesn’t mean you will run into something without knowing the depth. Your training was essentially for self-defence, not to go to a war.’
Suraj agreed, ‘We have already waited so many years, we can wait more to find out the truth. All these years I was expecting to get justice like a gentleman. Now I have just two goals: to find out what happened to Anarkali, and to get revenge of my parents’ assassination.’
‘Revenge!’ Nadirah was surprised, ‘the main accused is in dying bed. He was the man who must have planned everything. Ayaaz was just an accomplice who followed his father’s instruction without applying his own sense.’
‘I don’t yet know whether it was Ashfaq or there was someone who used Ashfaq because he knew all the details of our family.’ He replied.
‘Why do you think so?’ Nadirah asked.
‘As per my information,’ he explained, ‘Ashfaq didn’t rise in his career after his so called accomplishment. Even Ayaaz is still an ordinary soldier. Their career in Moghul army could have gone through roof had my father Purujit been still alive and in formal terms with Ashfaq’s family. The father and son duo b
it the same hand that fed them. I guess someone in the power, used them both but abandoned them after their work is done.’
‘Mother, I think Suraj is right,’ Saira argued, ‘our ships are regularly plying to Agra and Firozabad. Father knows most of my in-law’s associates. Had he wanted, he could have unearthed the fact that we are still alive.’
‘Probably he already knows,’ Suraj suggested.
‘He loved Saira so much I know,’ Nadirah argued, ‘she is his only daughter.
He should have contacted you.’
‘Maybe he has no guts to face Suraj after killing his father,’ Saira said, ‘possibly he still can’t grasp that I married in another community. He has no guts to face you, his ex-wife, whom he abandoned like a coward, when his support was crucial.’
Suraj continued his association with Sher Afghan Khan and became his trusted partner. Saira abandoned the idea of seeking a job in Sher Khan’s harem and unfolding the suspense: Mehr vs. Anarkali. In spite of the fact that Suraj became so close to Sher Afghan Khan, there was hardly any closeness between the families. Suraj had seen how his parents were treating the family of Ashfaq. Ashfaq’s family was practically their extended family. The relationship between Sher Afghan Khan and Suraj was merely that of a master and a servant. He tolerated this in the hope that someday his efforts would be rewarded.
Suraj never got a chance to accompany Sher Afghan Khan when he was visiting Delhi. He would boast of his relationship with the Emperor Jahangir. Suraj listened to this without any comment. There was no reason not to trust. After all, it was Jahangir who gave him the title ‘Sher Afghan’. Probably the Emperor had accepted the fact that his once beloved Mehr was now decorating the harem of an extremely junior person.
One evening, Sher Afghan invited Suraj for having drinks with him. He guided him to a hall in the compound of his official residence. There was the arrangement for Mujra (performance by dance girls). Suraj had seen mujra for the last time in the mansion of his father, Kala Bhavan. Only difference was that the audience was only male. Unlike the tradition in Purujit’s family, females were not invited to enjoy the show. Suraj was disappointed. He was eager to see Mehr even if from a distance.
Sher Afghan Khan arranged to bring nicest looking dancing girls from Lucknow, the mujra capital of the country. For the first time, he was giving individual attention to Suraj. Beautiful maids were pouring wine into their glasses. He became cautious. He started drinking slowly to avoid being drunk and encouraged Sher Khan to drink more and more. Throughout the performance, he kept on thinking of different possibilities. The first one was that Sher Khan wanted some unusual favour from him. The second one was that he wanted to send him on some risky assignment. It was possible that his attitude towards him changed, and he wanted to make up the past behaviour. He couldn’t realise when the dance performance ended. He clapped mechanically with others. Sher Khan requested him to stay back when everyone left. He guided Suraj to a horse carriage and directed the coachman to take them to an address. Suraj didn’t know the place because he was totally unknown in Bardhaman. He sat quietly as directed by his boss and checked that his sword was hanging properly from his waist. He felt the small swivel gun hidden under his coats. He glanced at the tall, fair and muscular guy called Sher Afghan Khan sitting beside him and then felt the increasing temperature of his own blood. His right hand was going to touch the sword, but he became aware and abstained. His self confidence assured him, ‘I shall take care of Sher Afghan if required.’
The carriage stopped in front of a small bungalow outside the city. Sher Khan got off and indicated Suraj to follow. Both went inside. To his surprise, there was nobody there. He felt bit secure. If he had to challenge Sher Khan, at least there would be one else to help the enemy. ‘This is fair,’ he thought.
Sher Khan led him to the roof of the bungalow, ‘This is a better place,’ he commented, ‘open and airy.’
He seated on a seat made of stone and indicated Suraj to occupy the seat in front of him. Sher Khan started again, ‘Good, there are no walls.’
‘Walls!’ Suraj expressed his surprise. This was the first word he said probably since evening.
‘Don’t you know the proverb, even walls have ears?’ Sher Khan laughed.
Suraj looked around. There was not a single house nearby. He didn’t believe there would be anyone in that house. What can be such a secret that they needed such a secluded place? He wondered.
Sher Khan started in a low voice, ‘I wanted to tell you a secret which you might be searching for years, since the elimination of your parents.’
Suraj suddenly became alarmed. His face became red with anger, and he tightly grabbed the grip of his sword. Sher Khan noticed his body language. A faint smile appeared on his face. Suraj didn’t notice that.
‘Yes, it was Ashfaq Khan, my father’s trusted aide.’ He affirmed.
‘He simply executed the plans,’ Sher Khan said in a confident tone, ‘you should have guessed it why no action was taken against the murderer of one of close confidants of the then Emperor, Akbar the Great.’
‘I got the information that my father Purujit helped the escape of Anarkali from live burial,’ Suraj replied, ‘so I guess the assassination was carried out on the direction of Emperor Akbar himself. That’s why I never got justice.’
‘You are wrong,’ Sher Khan laughed, ‘the Emperor Akbar could have conducted a hearing in the open court and executed him had he found him of violating his trust. Why would he eliminate someone in such a way?’
‘Then who is behind this,’ Suraj was dying to know.
Sher Khan looked around to check that nobody was listening, then bended to the front to bring his face close to Suraj’s and said in a hushed tone, ‘Even this moon and stars have ears. They are all afraid of the Mughal dynasty.’
‘Please don’t delay Sher Khan,’ Suraj was now extremely keen, ‘I want to know who was behind the assassination.’
‘Crown Prince Saleem,’ Sher Khan whispered, ‘the present Emperor Jahangir.’
The response was not that convincing.
‘He was a rebel,’ Suraj argued, ‘he was fighting against his own father for marrying a slave girl Anarkali against his father’s consent. I am sure, Akbar would have punished him, had he been behind this case. As per my information, it was my father, who helped Anarkali escape. Saleem should have rewarded my father. By the way, can you confirm my hypothesis whether Anarkali is actually alive?’
‘Prince Saleem forgave his father for not allowing him to marry Anarkali and in turn Akbar forgave him for ordering the killing of Purujit, his trusted loyal supporter. After all, they have hundreds and thousands of loyal supporters. So sacrificing just one for bringing the harmonious relationship between father and son was a worth compromise.’ Sher Khan said without taking the name of Anarkali and without discussing her escape.
Suraj couldn’t utter a word, just a heavy sigh. For the first time, someone who was probably an insider to the game was disclosing something about the plot against his father. He couldn’t decide whether he should accept this as a reality or make further investigation. Actually there was hardly any possibility of further investigation. Last so many years he had only dreamt of finding the truth about the conspiracy, but could do nothing. He had to rely on Sher Khan or forget about finding the truth forever. But it was extremely hard to comprehend why Prince Saleem would direct the assassination of the man who helped the escape of Anarkali. That means the speculation that Anarkali was alive or Purujit abetted her escape were wrong. Saleem might have made his father responsible for her capture and live burial. It was a case of ‘from frying pan to fire’ for Purujit. One action was enraging the father who was an Emperor and the only other option was enraging the son, who was the crown prince and present Emperor.
Suraj was now convinced that Anarkali was actually dead. Mehr, the beautiful wife of Sher Khan, was not Anarkali with a new name. Coincidentally she was also Saleem’s girlfriend. He took courage and asked
bluntly, ‘Till now I was thinking that Anarkali has escaped live burial. Am I right now to believe that she is actually dead?’
Sher Khan didn’t give an immediate answer. He looked around. Probably, he was thinking how to answer. ‘That is not relevant now,’ he gave a short answer without taking Anarkali’s name. Suraj was surprised.
‘You are a Rajput warrior,’ Sher Khan started again, ‘and son of a hero. I have immense respect for your father even though I got the opportunity to work for only a short period under him. Still my blood boils when I think of the conspiracy against him. I can imagine how you must be boiling from inside. I am sure you must be carving for justice.’
‘Yes I am carving for justice,’ Suraj’s grip in his sword became firm. Sher Khan saw this clearly.
‘You can’t get justice as long as Emperor Jahangir is the ruler of the country,’ Sher Khan started to unveil his plan as Suraj looked at him with surprise, ‘and you know there is no power in the country which can dislodge the mighty Mughals.’
‘You are right sir,’ Suraj agreed, ‘there is no power to challenge the dominant Mughal empire.’
‘Then how will you seek justice?’ Sher Khan asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘I know.’ Sher Khan said confidently.
Suraj looked at him with a surprise.
‘You are the link, who can break the mighty Mughal Empire,’ Sher Afghan Khan said and looked at him expecting a strange look.
Suraj’s expression was not at all curious. He just gave a puzzled look. He was virtually lost. His mind was wandering everywhere trying to find out what was going to happen. He was truly longing for the advice of Satyanand. He did not know where to find him. Last time he was in a small island inside Chilika Lake. He had a habit of roaming around the country, and no one knew where he was.
‘Suraj, Suraj,’ Sher Khan brought him back to present.
‘Yes sir,’ Suraj responded.
‘I said you are the link, who can bring the Mughals on its knees.’
‘Suraj didn’t ask ‘how’.
Sher Khan was not expecting this. He lost his patience, ‘You are the only fighter who knows both the Mughal military and Portuguese. You know Mughal is deficient in sea warfare. Their fleet is nothing in comparison to that of Portuguese. Portuguese has more sophisticated weapons than Mughal. But they are less in numbers and can’t defeat the Mughals on the surface. Mughals have more soldiers, war horses, war elephants and cannons. They also know the geography of the country exceptionally well, and the language is on their side. Portuguese can’t communicate with the local people.’
‘Your analysis is exceptionally talented,’ Suraj commented.
‘If you want justice for the extermination of your parents,’ Sher Khan continued, ‘you need to get advantage of Portuguese Navy. You need to convince them to help you.’
‘You just told that Portuguese are not proficient on the surface, they are good only in sea warfare.’ Suraj commented.
‘Leave that to me,’ Sher Khan assured, ‘a faction of the Mughal troops will be on our side. You take care of Portuguese. Once they decide to help, I will take care of the rest.’
Suraj couldn’t digest. Sher Khan was only head of a district and was dreaming of taking over the Mughal Empire. It was like a mouse trying to overturn a mountain.
‘Who in the Mughal army will help you?’ he enquired.
Sher Khan’s face colour changed as if Suraj trespassed into a forbidden area, ‘You need not know that. That is none of your business. You just convince Portuguese to establish the relationship with us.’
Suraj felt uncomfortable. He didn’t want to commit without being convinced.
‘None of the Portuguese commanders based in India can take this decision,’ he explained, ‘they are allowed to fight back only when their area or property comes in danger. Only the king of Portugal can decide. It may take months as someone will have to send a letter to him. The letter will obviously be carried by some of their ships, which regularly ply between the two countries. Ships take months to reach Portugal and also months to come back. It is a lengthy process. You need to wait that long.’
Sher Khan never expected this situation. He had no answer to this.
‘At least start the process,’ he suggested.
‘I will try,’ Suraj said and got up, ‘I will take your leave sir. I want to go to Hooghly tonight, and it is already late.’
Sher Khan also got up. He dropped Suraj near his horse carriage on his way home. Suraj rode his horse carriage and hurriedly started for Hooghly.
He didn’t go to Hooghly every day as Bardhaman was his workplace now. He was living in a small house there with a cook and a coachman. It was not far from the place where Aditi and her husband were living. Saira didn’t move to Bardhaman as she was the one who was managing the shipping business from its headquarters Hooghly. Suraj used to travel to Hooghly at least two to three times a week.
It was already late at night. The city of Bardhaman was in a deep sleep. The road was totally dark. The small oil lamp hung near the coachman was barely enough to see the road clearly. The galloping sound of horses’ feet was the only sound one can hear in the otherwise quiet night. The coachman was used to the road and could easily take the carriage in the night. Suraj kept the window open to get some fresh air. Normally he should have felt sleepy at this time. Tonight he was rather feeling restless. Saira was probably eagerly waiting, and he was so late today. Suddenly he heard; someone was crying. Yes, a woman was crying. The sound was faint as if coming from a distance. He took his head out through the window and asked the coachman, ‘Can you know from where the crying sound is coming?’
The coachman was perhaps equally tired and was least interested, ‘Who knows sir, someone somewhere is crying. I think the sound is coming from some house in the village.’
‘But there is no village here,’ Suraj was curious; ‘there is no house nearby.’
The coachman didn’t answer.
Gradually the sound became clearer. A woman was crying uncontrollably, and a man was trying to comfort her. The coachman stopped the carriage. Suraj got off and took the oil lamp from the coachman. He went near the couple. The man got up and saluted him taking his name.
‘Do you know me?’ he asked.
‘Yes sir,’ the man answered.
‘Who are you?’
‘I am Habib,’ he said, ‘and this is my wife Salma. I work as a gardener in Sher Khan’s enormous garden.’
He was trying to say something. Suraj saw the coachman was intently listening. He didn’t like that. He gestured Habib not to continue and asked him to come inside the horse carriage. Habib and Salma quietly obliged. Suraj didn’t talk to them till he reached his home at Hooghly. He asked one of the servants to show a room for the couple and went to sleep. It was already late at night and Saira was in deep sleep with his baby son; junior Puru. He silently went to the room and stretched himself on the bed. His body and mind both were tired and desperately required some sleep. Unfortunately, sleep seemed to be a rare commodity that night. He tried in vain for an hour and finally gave up.
He went to the room where Habib and his wife were sleeping. He thought for a moment. ‘It would be inappropriate to wake up someone who is equally tired, both mentally and physically. I can simply wait till morning.’
He was already near Habib’s room before deciding whether to knock his door, but he didn’t have to. Habib was standing on the veranda and watching the sky. His mind was in a different world. Suraj quietly went and stood near him keeping his hands on his shoulders, ‘Didn’t you go to sleep my friend?’
Habib came to sense and quickly moved away a little bit. Suraj’s hand came down from his shoulders. He looked at Habib in surprise. Habib stood with folded hands and said, ‘my status is low in society and I have no capacity to stand near to you sir.’
Suraj smiled, ‘You are a human being, and for me all humans are equal. Now you can tell me your story without f
earing anything or anybody. I promise you complete protection.’
‘My family will be killed sir,’ Habib was shivering.
‘Hooghly is in a different jurisdiction; ’ he tried to explain, ‘Sher Afghan can’t do anything here. It is under Portuguese. Your life is perfectly safe here.’
‘You are correct sir,’ Habib said, ‘Sher Afghan himself is a threat to me.’
‘What did you do?’ Suraj asked.
Habib hesitated to continue. Suraj could imagine his dilemma. After all, he was also on Sher Afghan’s payroll. People thought, he was faithful to him. He said, ‘I will never reveal anything to Sher Afghan about you. This is the promise of a Rajput. Trust me.’
‘I am a gardener in his palace sir,’ Habib started his story, ‘yesterday there were beautiful roses in the garden. I plucked some roses and made a beautiful bouquet for Mehr; Sher Afghan’s begum.’
‘So you went to give the bouquet to the lady of the palace?’ Suraj asked.
‘No my lord,’ Habib answered, ‘how can a male dare go to the harem of a powerful man? I am well aware of etiquettes. I asked my wife to go to the harem and present the bouquet to her.’
‘Did she meet her?’
‘No, she is always surrounded by Iranian maids. One of the maids stopped her. She gave the bouquet to her and came back. Within hours, few guards came and took me out. They beat me black and blue sir before releasing me.’
‘Did they hit you just for supplying flower?’ Suraj was hesitating to believe his story, ‘you need to tell me the truth.’
Habib thought for a moment and said, ‘My wife asked the maid whether Mehr and Anarkali are one and same.’
Suraj was surprised. He was not only one who was curious in knowing about Mehr. There were others too.
His curiosity was over. He decided not to investigate further before the morning sun appeared and prepared to go back. But Habib was in a mood, to spill the beans.
‘Sir, can I say something if you permit?’ Habib said.
Suraj stopped and turned back to him, ‘What?’
‘Sir, I know your father was devoted to the Mughal dynasty till his last breath,’ Habib started, ‘and you are loyal too.’
Suraj didn’t reply.
Habib continued, ‘I was with Sher Afghan from the days his name was Ali Quli, from the days he was fighting against crown prince Saleem along with your father Purujit. It was he who planned to eliminate Purujit.’
Suraj looked at him intently, ‘How did you know that?’
Habib felt uneasy when he looked at his tired eyes. They were looking fierce.
‘I just heard it sir,’ he felt the dilemma whether it was wise to give such sensitive information. Probably the timing was not appropriate. It was past midnight, and Suraj was tired, both mentally as well as physically. ‘I am not hundred percent sure sir,’ he tried to be politically correct; ‘I am a small fish in a big ocean. I have gotten this from hearsay.’
Suraj continued his silence and looked at the sky.
‘My gut feeling says that the hearsay must be correct sir,’ Habib tried to impress his rescuer with something valuable from his side.
‘You must be tired,’ Suraj said, ‘please go and have some sleep. Remember, Sher Afghan can’t do anything in Hooghly. Even though it is part of the Mughal Empire, Portuguese is in effective control of the city.’
Next morning he didn’t try to obtain any more information from Habib. He wrote a letter to some confidential person in the Mughal administration about the motives of Sher Afghan. There was not enough time to wait for the reply. He decided that he would continue to operate as the confidant of Sher Afghan so that he could understand the modus operandi of his plan for the rebel.
The information network of the Mughals was strong and powerful. It was started by the Emperor Akbar. Emperor Jahangir (Saleem) not only continued the trend but also improved the network. Within few days, there was the allegation that Sher Afghan was siding with Afghan rebels. Qutbuddin was the foster-brother of Jahangir. He was made Governor of Bengal replacing Raja Man Singh when Saleem became the Emperor Jahangir. Qutbuddin got directions to move Sher Afghan to court. Sher Afghan refused to obey. Qutbuddin started off for Bardhaman. He sent Ghiasa, son of his sister, to pacify Sher Afghan and make a peace treaty. Sher Afghan hesitantly agreed to meet Ghiasa. He brought with him Suraj and two body guards. Qutbuddin was following Ghiasa. On the arrival of Sher Afghan, Qutbuddin signalled his men to arrest Sher Afghan. Sher Afghan was also prepared for any possible treachery. He stepped forward in panic and attacked Qutbuddin in retaliation. It was not a happy ending for either. Qutbuddin was fatally wounded and died later that night. Sher Afghan was also seriously wounded, but he managed to escape and fled. He managed to get to the door of his house with the intent to kill his wife Mehr-un-Nisaa so that she didn’t fall into the hands of the Emperor. News of the attack had already reached his home. Asmat Begum, Mehr’s mother, was living with them. She was a very practical and intelligent woman. She could feel the intent of Sher Afghan. She didn’t allow Sher Afghan to enter the home, instead gave him the wrong news that on hearing his defeat, Mehr had committed suicide by throwing herself into a well. Her acting was so natural that Sher Afghan believed her. She advised him to mind his wound. The deadly wound and the sad news of Mehr’s suicide took its toll. He died.
Suraj was accompanying Sher Afghan when this incident happened. He was not expecting such an unexpected turn of events. He didn’t even try to help him. Rather he remained a mute spectator. This was probably the biggest blunder of his life. Sher Afghan didn’t survive to learn that he was betrayed by Suraj. On the other hand, the Mughals thought he was on the side of a rebel as he didn’t even try to help Qutbuddin, the Governor of Bengal. This was a serious lapse on his part. It was too late when he understood the implication and tried to escape to Hooghly, the city within the Mughal Empire that was controlled by Portuguese. Qutbuddin’s men caught Suraj before he could cross Bardhaman. He was taken into custody. He pleaded with them that he was the one who informed Mughal administration about the rebel plans of Sher Afghan. Unfortunately, Qutbuddin’s men didn’t know the name of the informer. In the absence of their Governor, Qutbuddin, there was none to take any sane decision. Their anger over the death of the Governor, lack of information about Suraj and lack of a leader, all went against the luck of Suraj. He was sent to Delhi as a prisoner in a war ship.
There was a day, when Suraj’s father Purujit had arrested rebels Niyaz and Wasim from Hooghly. Today, his son Suraj, was arrested on the same charges. He was also sent to Delhi in a war ship. He was shocked but not discouraged. He was sure to get justice. He had sent letters to Mughal authority in his own handwriting. What else was required to prove his innocence?
The bottommost floor of the warship was being used as makeshift prison. The entire floor was below the water level. There was no window to entice any kind of light. Perhaps a store room was vacated to make room for him. The room was stinking. The whole atmosphere was terribly depressing. He got a feeling that probably hell was far better than this dark room. Few weeks of the journey in such circumstances can easily take its toll on any prisoner. The brave Rajput soldier was different. He was brought up by Purujit in such a way that he became mentally prepared for such a fate. Rather than doing self pity, he used the darkness as an opportunity for long meditation. Who knew whether one day he would thank this situation for becoming a successful Yogi proficient in high level of meditation?
It was difficult for him to know when daylight was coming or when there is night. There was no entry of sunshine to the little cell. He tried his best to keep count of days. At first he thought that he would be served breakfast, lunch and dinner and he would know when another day started from the next breakfast time. After few days, the serving time for food became erratic. There was no specific time when he was served food. Attendants were strictly instructed not to talk to him.