UJJAIN UNDER SIEGE

*NOTE: NO PHOTOS IN THIS BLOG; ALL PICTURES ARE ADVERTISEMENTS.

This blog is written by a guest: My Dad (and published here with his permission).   

His TOI WriteIndia competition submission:
Rules:
1. The story must be set in the Gupta Age, in Ujjain (the capital of the empire in its latter half).
2. It must involve a crime. And its resolution.
3. The below passage should be present in the submission.

"Supratik, the Chief of Police and Internal Security at Ujjain, walked rapidly up to the riverside, just as the body was being fished out. The officer supervising the operation turned around and saluted his commander immediately."

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     The history teacher chalked four options on the blackboard – the fourth one being ‘Ujjain’. She asked the Std. IX class, “Which of these four is the seat of Jainism?” Pat came a bright reply,  “option d) Ujjain”.

     Well, one may laugh at the blurted answer but suffice it to say that the Gupta kings, though Hindus, were tolerant enough to see that all faiths flourished and didn’t even think of a totalitarian state suppressing religious freedom or any other freedom. Little wonder then that the Gupta period is called ‘The Golden Age’ of India, especially when Chandragupta II, also known as ‘Vikramaditya’ meaning ‘Power of the Sun’ or ‘Valour’, ruled Ujjain. This Raja Gupta of the Magadha Kingdom was the scion of Samudragupta and Dattadevi.

     Ujjain, in all its glory, stood tall and proud on the eastern banks of the river Kshipra, in the Malwa region. It flowed majestically and serenely adding to the city’s splendour and prosperity. Being the centre of trade and commerce the city became more famous with the Guptas making it their capital. The merchants especially those coming from Indore made it their second home. The prolific trade between these two cities brought in abundant wealth making Ujjain a golden city, thriving and kicking!

     Chandragupta I, also called Sri Gupta, founded the Gupta Dynasty in 320 AD. His grandson, Chandragupta II followed the policy of world conquest like his father, Samudragupta. His empire extended from the Bay of Bengal to the Arabian Sea.

     He married the beautiful Kuberanaga, a princess of the Naga Dynasty and secured the friendship of the Vakatakas of Berar through this matrimonial alliance. What astuteness! He also gave his daughter Parvati in marriage to the Vakataka king, Rudrasana II, whose death made her the Regent. She helped her father, Chandragupta, in his campaigns who comprehensively defeated the Saka Satrapas and annexed Malwa, Kathiawar (Saurashtra) region and Gujarat. The seaports, now in his possession, opened new avenues for commercial contacts and contracts with the Western World for carrying a flourishing trade – another marvellous feather in his cap!  

     Cultural progress was the hallmark of Chandragupta II. Literature, art, etc. flourished under his patronage. His royal court adorned by Navratnas like Kalidas, added to his eminence.

     As Visnu’s devotee, Garuda became the emblem of the Gupta flag. His Brahmanic Hinduism led to sculptured images of Hindu Gods dotting Ujjain. Surely, his reign epitomized the spirit of magnanimity and liberalism.

     ‘Ambavati’, as Ujjain was originally known, gave rise to the wise and courageous King Vikramaditya.  He stands out as an icon winning a permanent place in the hearts of his people. The golden age of the Gupta’s saw its highest water-mark, its zenith, during the benign rule of Chandragupta. In fact, understanding Chandragupta II is understanding Ujjain!

     Caesar Augustus said, “I found Rome a city of clay and left it a city of marble”. Likewise, Chandragupta II could say, “I found Ujjain a city in chaos but left it a city of gold”.

     And what did the Gupta kings, after him, do? Kumara Gupta and Skanda Gupta kept the Empire running. However, Puru Gupta (467-69) being old, decandence started setting in as was the case with the unconquerable Romans. The Hunas from the North and the Vakatakas from the South, began making in-roads into Gupta territory. Besides, there arose unattended family feuds proving the saying, ‘a house divided within itself falls,’ right. Furthermore, the Governors in charge of their provinces took full advantage of the emaciated ruler and became their own bosses.

     Supratik, a loyal, conscientious and hardworking Chief of Police and Internal Security at Ujjain, could be described as a person ‘having his wits about him’. Observant, diligent, ingenious, cunning (in the ways of the Ujjain world) and having a nose for trouble he was prepared for anything. With his keen perception and the ability to think on his feet he could size up the gravity of a situation quickly. Being a six-footer, fair, handsome and athletic too, he moved lithely and sprightly. With regular exercise he kept himself as fit as a fiddle. His knowledge of the use of the ‘khanda’, was second to none and his prowess with the bow and arrow – could hit the bull’s eye without batting his eyelid – was excellent indeed. Wasn’t he versatile? He certainly was – a man for all seasons! No wonder, His Majesty, Skanda Gupta had accepted his offer of tying the knot with his daughter, albeit with the connivance of his sole, lovely offspring Princess Urvashi who adored him, having fallen head over heels in love and married they were – royally!

     As was his routine now, rising at the break of dawn, Supratik finishing his ablutions and exercise, had a hearty breakfast. Readying to go to the headquarters, a messenger arrived with the news that he was wanted at the riverside.

     Supratik the Chief of Police and Internal Security at Ujjain, walked rapidly up to the riverside, just as the body was being fished out. The Officer supervising the operation, turned around and saluted his commander immediately.

     “A body was discovered at 7.00 am by some boys swimming, as was their practice, in the river. They reported the incident to me at the police station and I left in a hurry with three men  carrying the necessary poles and hooks. We asked Raju, the fisherman, to come with his boat and he willingly obliged. As you can plainly see, sir, the body is being fished out of the Kshipra river,” said Officer Puri.

     Silent but reflective, the Chief of Police absorbed what the Officer reported and saw an arrow sticking from the dead body. He looked at the sand, found some footprints but no boot-marks around. He searched around and some thirty yards away he discovered the boot-marks leading to the road. He realized that someone who was a good marksman and a trained archer had used a bow and arrow to commit this crime. He returned to the banks of the river and saw the pale body with the blood covered singlet and shorts. The arrow, 1½ ft long, made of oak had pierced his heart from the back. The impact of the sturdy arrow had propelled the swimmer head long into the river killing him before hitting the water.

     Investigations revealed that the hapless victim was a rich jeweller from Ujjain survived by a young wife and a minor daughter. The police kept the body at the headquarters for further queries from friends, relatives and informants.

     Hardly half an hour later, a rustic came panting to the station and blurted: Police, police, a man is lying dead in a pool of blood. He reported that some women had gone to the forest, as was their habit, to answer nature’s call and were thunderstruck to see the body with eyes protruding, the mouth wide open and bloody. I went and hastened back to report to you after seeing the corpse: Supratik, Puri and a police team followed the villager and horror of horrors, the dead body spoke of an excruciating death at the hands of a cold-blooded murderer. The Chief sized up the situation: An expert warrior had struck the unfortunate youth with his ‘khanda’ a double edged sword. The blade had ripped his chest horizontally and there was no pointed poke-mark as would have been the case had he used a ‘Firangi’ or a ‘Talwar’ which would finish a person with a poke to the heart.

     The area where the body lay was cordoned off and the corpse removed to the headquarters for further leads. Meanwhile, the inconsolable parents were taken home by the kind neighbours as their sole wage-earner was carried gloomily away. The tall frame of the Chief sagged a bit as he realized that a couple of trained goons had spoilt his day. Two dead persons murdered for no rhyme or reason or was it? His thoughts were interrupted by Puri again approaching him with hurried steps.

     “Sir,” “Yes?” said the top cop, “Sir, there’s been another killing – could you kindly come with us?” asked the officer. Wiping the cold sweat from his face with a kerchief, Supratik donned his cap and accompanied the policemen to the scene of the crime. A teenage boy,  carrying a sack of oranges to the market place was whacked with a heavy stick on the side of his temple. The teenager fell writhing and screaming in pain. The ‘Choradharmika’ – a special officer trained to catch thieves - witnessed the scene, sprang to his feet and rushed to help the lad but after a few spasms the body lay still, felled in one blow by the work of a master killer. In the meantime, the villain had disappeared.

     The Dandapastika - the head of this special police force was informed immediately and he with the duty cop sped all the way to meet Puri and the three proceeded to inform the Top Cop about the killing of the teenager and the thug’s escape. Puri thanked the two informants who accompanied the police team to the site.

    ‘What’s happening to our peaceful Ujjain?’ muttered Supratik under his breath. “Hello, what’s this, another murder to report?” asked he of Puri who was striding towards him. “Yes sir and this at the local school.” Looking washed-out, the same police team arrived at the institution of learning. Mohan, the school Principal lay on the mud floor with his tongue lolling out, and hands clutching his throat. Apparently, he had unlocked the gate and was walking towards his office when the hoodlum struck. ‘Death by strangulation, compression of the neck, surely’, he surmised. ‘Garroting’ it is! Bending down he examined the throat and saw the rope- marks on the neck. The mark being lower on the neck of Mohan, the scholar, was sufficient proof that he was not hanged but strangulated.

      Satisfied with his investigation, the Chief reached the Headquarters with the choked body of the eminent educationist following behind. He dispatched two policemen to his house and asked them to accompany his wife, the Princess, to the Headquarters. He also sent Puri along with two more cops to five top officials – advisors and police consultants. He asked two more men to collect more cops from the Station and ordered them to close the city gates, the port and banned the assembly of more than two people for the next couple of days. He also sent an emissary to the Commander in Chief of the Royal Army requesting his presence at the meeting of his Advisors at 11.00 am of the same fateful day.

      The eminent seven were informed about the four murders by officer Puri. Supratik spoke about how the crimes were committed and what his deduction was. “It is a conspiracy to bring chaos upon our cherished city Ujjain. With the death of our dearly beloved ruler, His Majesty, Emperor Skanda – may his soul rest in peace – the enemy thinks we are weak but we shall prove them wrong”. He also narrated to them the measures he had already taken and asked them for their wise suggestions and advice. In the meantime, he requested them to see the four bodies laid out in the special room before coming to any conclusion.  

     When they were seated, refreshments were served and the first person to raise her voice was his wife, Urvashi. “You have to inform His Majesty, King Puru of what has transpired” – all agreed. She was requested to do so along with the Commander of the Army, on their behalf and also report the action being taken. The next speaker said, “How do we know whether these crimes were committed by four different persons or by a single goon?” Another added, “Can you elucidate upon the conspiracy theory of the enemy infiltrating the police?” That made another ask, “How about Ujjain itself falling into enemy hands and the king’s safety?” The fifth asked him to post more guards all around the treasury. The sixth added, “No money, no honey for them.”    

      The Chief iterated that he would act immediately on their wise suggestions. Thanking them profusely, he pleaded for their continual support. Before they broke up, he remarked, “Please do me a favour: Send word to each of the provinces under your jurisdiction to dispatch four of the best men in each of these categories today itself, before nightfall: Archer; Khanda swordsman; Danda warrior; Garroting expert. He saluted everyone and then they dispersed.

      Lost in thought, he realized the gravity of the situation. If Ujjain fell, the kingdom would fall into the hands of the enemy. The prolific trade between Ujjain and Indore brought about a cut-throat competition between these two important cities. Flesh trade, kidnappings, and gambling were the ‘in’ things. Thieves, knifers, money lenders etc. were the evil accompaniments to the deadly music of crime. But to have four murders, skillfully executed in about an hour near the Police Headquarters was the limit. Everything, the more he thought about it, pointed to a plot to capture the Capital and bring about the downfall of the Gupta Kingdom.

     Stirring from his melancholic reverie, he sent an emissary to the Army Commander, with this message: Night patrol to be undertaken by the Army. Since police force is compromised, I suggest you send spies in plain clothes at your earliest, to pubs, brothels, market places, gambling joints and wherever necessary. He also asked Puri to go home accompanied by a couple of cops and also post more guards at his own house and get more reinforcements at the Headquarters along with a reliable officer to take over from him, for the day. “Thanks,” he said meaningfully. As an after-thought he added, “Just inform the officer on duty to accommodate the four experts from each of the provinces who will be arriving in an hour or two. I’ll be back within a couple of hours.” Puri saluted his boss and they parted.

     A sleuth once wise cracked, “Detective work is 95% sweat and 5% chance.” ‘Well,’ thought Supratik, ‘Where is this lady luck hiding? When will he chance to meet her?’ When he entered Headquarters after two hours, he saw cops standing in groups of four.

     Supratik stood tall in his Chief of Police uniform and addressed the summoned specialists from each province, “Gentlemen, I have the honour to stand before the best of Ujjain’s soldiers consisting of Archers, Khandwa swordsmen, Danda warriors and Garroting masters. Permit me to congratulate you and also thank you for the yeoman service done for the Gupta Emperors and our Kingdom. However, there’s a downside to our good name and proud history. Four cold-blooded murders were committed this morning and the criminals are at large. There’s a big reward if any of you help in nabbing the criminals by revealing any information or evidence. Nevertheless, no mercy will be shown to the dastardly plotters. If you confess to your crime, mercy will be yours”. Shocked, nobody moved. Silence reigned supreme!

     The Chief then met the four experienced investigators who would interrogate them for as long as it took to flush out the culprits. The first Investigator nicknamed ‘Chatter Box’ would talk and make them talk (friendly). The second was ‘Bone Crusher’: “I’m making no bones of it but I’m ready to break bones, if needed” (cruel). Third: ‘Bluff master’ would convince them there was hard evidence against them (serious). Fourth: ‘Sharp eyes’ would watch for body language and eye-contact (stern).

     Intensive interrogation began in earnest but there was no break-through even till the next morning. These cops were themselves all well-versed and trained in this art of investigation and couldn’t be fooled easily which Supratik had anticipated.

     Unknown to many, Supratik, had a trump card up his sleeve which he decided to play. It was his personal bloodhound, ‘Suryakant’. Daily, the hound and the top cop went for their afternoon run before lunch. Yesterday, they had run to the river bank and the hound was made to smell the boot-prints - Mind you, bloodhounds have a phenomenal sense of smell. Besides, they stir up odours from the ground - these fantastic traits were going to be tested today. The dog sniffed around the shrubs about 30 yards from the bank and started barking. His master saw what he had expected - a bow about 5ft long with its string broken. Using his kerchief, he carried it home. Next, the dog and his master went speedily to the second scene of crime which had been cordoned off. The bloodhound smelt the dried blood and nosing around discovered a handkerchief full of blood marks which the assailant had used to wipe his Khanda. Unwittingly, he had flung the handkerchief away which Supratik picked up. Again, this duo sped to the market place and by the side of the mud-road the four-legged sniffer halted for his two-legged investigator to catch up and carry home the third evidence, namely, the thick stick. Ultimately, they stood in the school compound and, not surprisingly, they found the rope thrown behind a tree! Suryakant smelt it while his master bagged the last evidence. “Well done, boy. You’re promoted to Deputy Head of Police!” The mutt wagged his short tail and dogbraced him affectionately as he received pats of appreciation.  

     The four pieces of evidence, brought from home, were now placed on a large table and one by one the suspects came to see them. Suryakant who was chained securely about 15 feet away instinctively spotted the four murderers and tried to pounce on them as they came towards the table but the chain thwarted his attempt. They were taken away for further questioning and undoubtedly, the Chief was proved correct. There was a conspiracy by the Indore business community and the powers that be, to overthrow King Puru and take over the reigns of power. Princess Urvashi summed it up well: My beloved husband Supratik has saved Ujjain again. Long live the King, long live Super-cop Supratik! 

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Length of blog: 3000 words (exact).

Genre: Guest Writer

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Everything’s Fine!

My TOI WriteIndia competition submission:
Rules:
1. The story must be set in the Gupta Age, in Ujjain (the capital of the empire in its latter half).
2. It must involve a crime. And its resolution.
3. The below passage should be present in the submission.

"Supratik, the Chief of Police and Internal Security at Ujjain, walked rapidly up to the riverside, just as the body was being fished out. The officer supervising the operation turned around and saluted his commander immediately."

NOTE: All photos are advertisements.
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Everything’s Fine!

           "Supratik, the Chief of Police and Internal Security at Ujjain, walked rapidly up to the riverside, just as the body was being fished out. The officer supervising the operation turned around and saluted his commander immediately."

             Supratik liked the riverside and loved to sit by the banks of the Kshipra, just like the innumerable people who visited the holy city did. Yet nowadays he got the time to get near the riverside only when there was some kind of official work. He made a mental note to himself that he needed to get a social life.

           The Kshipra zig-zagged southwards through the entire temple town, and there was always some flesh seen in it. This time it was the dead body. It looked like one of the many pilgrims, except for the head which was submerged.

           “It's not been too long in the water sir." The saffron-yellow turbaned junior officer said.

           Supratik noticed the matching attire of his colleague was in order. King Namashima had passed this new order of uniform to set the city's police apart. This was his way to show off his power. After all, the king had to do something about his dwindling Kingdom.

           "Good evening Shorab, take two horsemen and ride upstream and ask any of our men if they saw anything fishy." Supratik continued, "And stick to the task, I need you back tomorrow morning with a full report."

           He knew Shorab too well. Shorab could extort anything out of anyone, especially money. Supratik noticed a tattoo on the underside of the upper left arm of the dead body which was now lying face down on the river bank. He took out his chalk and scribbled the inscription on his notepad – a few parchments from the royal scroll and the wooden case made-up his makeshift notepad. The markings were in Sanskrit, but he couldn't read all of it. He made two copies of it and gave one to Shorab, who had returned with two men.

           He watched Shorab ride away northwards after the dead body was loaded onto a bullock cart. He knew his next stop was the royal scribe.

           “I have something and need your expertise, Akshay”, Supratik said.

           “Chunshu”, the holy man said.

           “I’m guessing that’s his name”. Supratik said.

           “Seems like it, though it has no Hindu meaning”, the scribe said.

           Supratik smiled back at Akshay.

           “Can’t help noticing how people’s lives in Ujjain revolve around the river’s name, Kshipra. Xunxu our dead body, my assistant Shorab, Shaxi - my wife. And you Axhay”, Supratik said. He used the k-s-h sound in deliberation.

           “Haha”, Akshay continued, “For that matter even King Namaxima’s name has it”

           “Nowadays it was all about the showcasing”, Supratik said.

           “We had to come up with a catchy trend so that our Hindu kingdom does not deteriorate and vanish away”, Akshay said.

           “Yes, the good old days of Vikramaditya”, Supratik said.

           “And nowadays the Huns attacking us from the west”, Akshay said.

           “And did you hear about the Jew who challenged Alexander the Great’s Kingdom – it seems if anyone attacked on one cheek, he offers the other cheek too”, Supratik said.

           Both looked westwards towards the sunset beyond the river. Akshay said something above evening prayers and retired to his dark quarters. And Supratik left for his abode where Shakshi would await his arrival at home. He knew Akshay would stow away the body and pyre it at day break. The body was pretty bruised up - the river might have done that to it – probably. He knew he would have more answers when Shorab returned tomorrow.

           His wife had returned from her pre-dawn bath at the river and woke him up. They exchanged pleasantries and left together for the main palace building and before he knew it he was at breakfast table laden with fruits, some fried pakoras, etc. in gold vessels. Supratik took his daily dose of pulses prepped in molasses, he wondered how the chef managed to cook for so many people that too, before day break. He calculated the number of people in his head, the morning shift of soldiers, the construction workers –some of them convicts, the peons, the maids, the clerks, etc. at least 2000 people he thought. All wouldn’t eat in golden plates, of course. He nodded his head and finished his sweetened dish. He believed it kept him more energetic. His saffron-yellow brigade had assembled in line. He addressed them as usual, “Attention!”

           “At ease”, he continued, “Any new developments need to be reported to me within the hour. Any lapse in following your duties will lead to fines and dismissal.”

           He knew he didn’t have to threaten his men, they would be self-motivated enough to work for their clan. Plus there was the added bonus of a well-to-do job, not including the perks. He headed for his official chamber and before he could settle down, he was greeted by Shorab.

           “Good morning Sarkar”, Shorab said.

           “Ah, you are back”, Supratik continued, “Tell me whether you solved the case.”

           “Yes, of course”, Shorab said.

           “The dead body is of a guy called Chunsu, he drives a bullock-cart daily from up north right up to Indore in the south on a need-to-hire basis.

           “A local fellow, eh!” Supratik said.

           “Au contraire, chief”, Shorab continued, “He’s from a Himalayan village, it seems. The tattoo is self-made. He is some kind of artist it seems.”

           “Oh a learned, artist from the north. Might I dare call him a monk?” Supratik continued, “So what’s the motive of his death?”

           “Unknown”, Shorab said.

           “Okay and how did he land up dead in the river?” Supratik said.

           “No idea”, Shorab said.

           “Then how is this case solved?” Supratik said a little bit annoyed.

           “We have his bullock cart with us. It was found in a funny way”, Shorab continued, “I had flagged down a bullock cart which was using cows to ferry luggage, which is illegal - right.”

           “How much did you fine him?” Supratik said.

           “Nothing officially”, Shorab said and winked at his senior, “He pleaded me not to take the cows into custody.”

           “So I’m assuming you extorted one gold coin out of the poor bastard, since the fine is two pieces?” Supratik said.

           Supratik knew Shorab had a thing for the minted gold coins which were to be used for trade and to replace the barter system.

           “The poor guy also mentioned how he had not stolen the abandoned bullock cart near the river and how he was a nice man”, Shorab continued, “We found the cart by the river and it had the same inscription on the footboard. With which we knew we were on the right track.”

           “And what did you do of this dead man’s cart?” Supratik said.

           “Oh, that we sold for four gold coins”, Shorab said.

           He handed over 4 gold coins to the chief who in turn handed them over to another guard who would at the end of the day submit the entire day’s fines to the palace treasury. King Namashima had made it all about the fines. Everything was penalized with fines - even murder for that matter. Supratik did not agree on most of the policies, especially the last part. How could murderers get away with just a fine? The King and all his hands worked to fill the treasury. Maybe King Vikramaditya had distributed too many gold coins after his prayers at the temple. The treasury head did not disclose much, but once had said, “It’s all about numbers and the liquidity of those numbers.”

           Supratik had nodded his head. He was a mere executor of the plans laid by the ruling class. He liked it that way. He was good at it too.

           “Tell me where did you find Chunshu’s cart?” Supratik continued, “And then you go rest.”

           Supratik and four men on horseback rode towards the riverbank identified by Shorab. Supratik with his vast experience was certain this was murder. The marks on Chunshu’s body were too definitive to be river water and its flow related. Supratik first rounded up the cow herd who had bribed Shorab so as to not miss the location of the abandoned cart. At the pointed out location, he and five of them moved in concentric circles looked for evidence of a tussle - which was easier said than done. On the fifth round, they came across a temple hidden from view off the river bank. The resident pundit who dwelled in the foliage denied seeing anything – yet, in the name of the King – was made to be part of the search party.

           The seven of them walked side-by side at arm’s length – the search continued.

           “Which way to the village”, Surpatik said.

           He had spied a clearing opposite the temple was where the temple burnt its waste - in a pit – and it was in regular use. The holy man who had no choice but to look away from his search area and point eastwards. Again, as they turned away from the north towards the south for the fifth time, they found a few bushes beaten up, a branch of a low-lying tree was broken too. Supratik told everyone to stay still. He studied the area and then pointed towards the village.

           “Take us through the main road”, Supratik told the pundit.

           They treaded back to the temple. Beyond the pit which was filled with debris of clay pots, was the disguised entrance to the village. They had missed it - their focus on the gutter which had formed of the waste which then disappeared off the riverbank – the path curved into a clearing. After a few minutes, they all stood in the centre of the clearing where a dozen or so houses were spread-out. They were the centre of attention.

           “They’ve come to take a census”, the local pundit said, as he had been directed to.

           Five men were at the hutment at the time, the rest had gone to bear food for the rest. One of the men had a black eye. He was taken into custody. The colony was told to report to the palace court for further details in regards to why he was arrested. No one came in for the young man the next day. He would have to work-off the bail amount of one gold coin with a fifteen days of government labour.

           “Plus you will have to return to jail if any nuisances are reported”, the judge decreed.

           Two days into his sentence he was brought in front of the superintendent.

          “Do you know why you are being held”, Supratik said.

           He then went on to explain the bullock-cart driver being found in the Kshipra.

           “Well, the other day, five men came back from the farms. This guy with the tattoo you showed me agreed to bring them back to our settlement in his cart. There was an argument when he did not get the bullock-cart into the town centre but let the men get off at the river bank. He accompanied them into the village and then left on foot after getting paid.

            That’s all I know”, the accused said.

           “Do you want to tell me how you got the wound?” Supratik said.

           “This is an accident while manning the plough”, Shobam said.

           “Gather twenty men and get these five men into custody”, Supratik said.

           Shobam was stowed away. The overnight operation was a success. Eight men were held in different cells; they had rounded-up whoever worked on the farms. All were cross-questioned one-on-one.

           Supratik felt this was a one to be solved by the King himself. All were present in the next day’s durbar. King Namashima, his wife, the fan-coolies, the courtesans, the nine accused and soldiers as per shift. They had been joined by the village senior who represented the nine men.

           “The gist of the findings from the interrogation is this”, Supratik continued, “Five days ago, five of these farmers hailed a bullock-cart to their village. This was providence that they got a Buddhist driver. He bade his ancestors from Sikander’s army. He mocked our Gupta Empire, speaking against the sovereign gold coin and stood for the barter-system. This because his father lost his handful of carts to the gold-coin. The barter system obviously gave his father’s business less baggage to pull. Chunshu was a renegade, an artist with the pipe and believed to have divine being in himself – this is another accused’s point of view. He ate meat, observed no fasts for no Gods and so by the time they had arrived at their village, the deceased had gotten onto everyone’s nerves. And the last straw was when he refused to take his cart over the garbage filled stream into the village, which according to one of the accused, is the highlight of getting a cart - to avoid the dirt. Also the court would like to know, that the gutter is man-made emanating from a nearby temple’s waste area”

           The entire court looked in silence at all the suspects.

           “They invited him into the village to barter some opium where they gheraoed him and beat him up to a pulp”, Supratik said.

           “Mob-lynching, hmmm”, King Namashima said.

           “The next we will hear one mob fighting another mob, which is other words can be called as a war”, one of the courtesans said.

           “He was very much alive when he fled our village”, the village elder continued, “We went to get hold of the cart, but it was gone.”

           “Manslaughter. They are fined 2 gold coins per person .The five who beat up the driver. The remaining are free to go. Also fine the pundit for littering. Next case please”, the order was delivered by the King.

           There were hushed discussions around the chamber. No one said anything in reply. All knew the accused could pay the fine by working it off for four fortnights on one of the construction sites, if they couldn’t pay – one fortnight’s work per sovereign.

           “Any return arguments by anyone”, one of the courtesans continued. “No return arguments by anyone that means we can proceed Sire.”
       
           Supratik smile was content at the entire proceedings of the episode. He visualized the pundit cleaning up the path leading to the village.




           --- THE END ---


Length of blog: 2500 words.
Genre: Political Satire

Please rate out of 5 stars (no half stars please).

The BJP Era (2014- )

*NOTE: NO PHOTOS IN THIS BLOG; ALL PICTURES ARE ADVERTISEMENTS

Part 1: The Travellers

                “The first atrocity by this government”, Lakeisha said.

                “Haha”, Jay said into the phone. He was expecting the call from his wife since yesterday night; since the time the Prime Minister had announced about the demonetization scheme. She was at her maternal home saying her goodbyes before their road trip began.

                “Where have you been, I have been expecting your call since the announcement. Is our trip on?” Jay said.

                “You know me; I waited till I got to work and heard about it in person from my colleagues to get a better picture. Also did not want to stir up a hornet’s nest at my parents’”, she continued ,“Where are you?”

                “In the queue, at the bank, waiting to exchange a few notes, for our trip”, Jay said.

                Lakeisha smiled, she was happy to have married a man with impetus.

                “Oh good. I observed all the ATMs on my way to work, no lines coz no cash in them, just like the one in my office campus, but I can feel all ogling it”, Lakeisha said.

                “I should get a handful of the new notes, the rest we can do on cards, cards are not affected, you know”, he said.

                “I have my coin collection, haha”, Lakeisha continued, “Should be around four grand in the piggy bank.”

                Lakeisha had the habit of collecting Rs. 5/- and Rs 10/- coins, ‘gold coins’ she called them – because of their colour.

                “Then it’s on”, Jay continued, “Let’s leave the chaos and run”         
     

                Lakeisha laughed at his repetitive joke. He had been saying the same ’dialogue’ since the day he met her, or maybe it was later, since the day they decided to get married to each other. They had been married for more than twenty years now; she was allowed to forget some of the details.

                The trip had been decided weeks ago, leaves planned; they were to leave early from work Friday and resume work on Tuesday. Jay had his Microsoft excel sheet prepared, like he always did.

                “We do so much Excel work for our work-life, can’t we adapt a few good things into our personal lives”, she remembered this dialogue from years ago; on their Hampi trip.

                “You remember the fans, I guess”, her friend Sofia used to poke jokes at her. Sofia was always a little jealous, because they travelled a lot and Sofia and her husband couldn’t.

                “Because of my children”, Sofia had said. She had four of them and yes they were rascals. Lakeisha envied her though, as she couldn’t have any of her own. Jay had anyways not wanted children.

                “Too much population” he used to say, may be to calm her, but she had known it from her childhood, the doctor had diagnosed her correctly. She had secretly tried though, not letting Jay know about it. She had followed a schedule for a year, but it was of no use, maybe Jay was defective too. Hence, they had time to travel a lot. The bags were packed in advance and in the car, and on the way to pick her up Jay had taken a small detour to get her coin box out of the ‘drawer below the safe’, which he could not find. Were all husbands were bad at finding things, that too in front of their noses!

                The car halted, she got in hurriedly, “Let’s vamoose!”
               

Part 2: Mandu

                “Toll tax has been waived off by the transport dept, until the change situation is stable”, Jay said.

                “Let’s see, I’m skeptical because some tolls are government subsidiaries and not fully owned by the government”, she said.

                They passed Mumbai’s exit toll booths which were manned yet no one asked for money. They sat in the music being played on car stereo. Lakeisha was not too keen on the type of music, she just wanted the company, that was Jay’s ideology too; she knew he liked to go on long drives, and they were good enough company for each other.

                “So where are we off to?” Lakeisha said.

                “Mandu, it’s a hill-station not too far away from Indore”, Jay said

                They stayed overnight at a hotel on the highway. They had looked out for a hotel with Wi-Fi because they surmised; since the hotel had Wi-Fi it would also accept cards. They were correct. As Jay lowered himself into bed, Lakeisha switched off her bedside lamp. Jay too did not want to get into any conversation, lest he spoil the surprise that Mandu was hill-station from the Mughal era or even earlier than that probably.  Tomorrow they would be in Mandu, and she would find out for herself. He liked to surprise her and see her smile.

                By noon they had checked into the far end room at MPSTDC resort. It accepted cards and the room had a nice view of the valley below – the view of the side they had driven up-hill. The weather was pleasant – it was a hill-station after all. The valley green, a few huts sprinkled along the slopes. They decided to have lunch in the restaurant at the entrance of the resort which doubled up as it's lobby too. Lakeisha peered at the pamphlets on the desk.

                “Hey there are ruins here!” she said.

                She picked one of the booklets.

                “It says, Mandu is on the list of tentative UNESCO World heritage sites, with palaces, ponds, temples, mosques and tombs.

                She pointed at a long concrete picture on one of the pages.

                “Jahaz Mahal”, she continued,”I wonder how they carried so much building material so high up on a hill.”

                Jay could she Lakeisha was getting excited. Lunch was being walloped down.

                “Oh yeah! Right! Now it makes sense. I was wondering why we had to pay to enter a hill-station. They don’t ask us entry fees when we go to our Khandala cottage!” Lakeisha said.

                “And you missed the Dilli Darwaza. I thought you would get it then.”Jay continued, “Seems like age is catching up with you.”

                They had noticed in their numerous travels that most forts had an entrance called the Delhi Gate or ‘Dilli Darwaza” and they had concluded that allies entered the fort via this gate and those who didn’t were enemies trying to infiltrate that fort. And the entrances were mostly Northern, at least Mandu's was.

                “Oh yes! The arch on the road right after where they stopped us for the entrance fees”, Lakeisha continued, “I was more bothered about them taking our cash, that too in times like these.”

                Lakeisha jingled the coins in her pouch.  They saw in the map that a few ruins were nearby so they took a short “post-lunch” walk towards the Dilli Darwaza. They turned right, northwards.

                “Mandapa Durga”, Lakeisha read the MPSTDC sign at the gated temple, “Now we know why the name ‘Mandu’.”

                “612 AD”, Jay said.

                A few paces ahead off the road they came to Gada Shah’s shop, a three storey building of which only the outer walls remained. The multiple huge exits proved that it was once used as a town hall.

                “Drapes would have hung to keep the sunlight out“, Jay continued as he looked at the roofless structure, “You think it had a roof?”

                They climbed onto the adjacent hillock and were greeted by a few wet kids. Two tanks were cut deep into the rock; fish could be seen swimming two floors down. Jay climbed down the wide steps while Lakeisha took a few photos.

                “Check the names of the tanks”, Lakeisha continued from the top, “Ujala Baodi and Andheri Baodi.”

                “1405 and 1300 AD, the Mughal era”, Jay hollered back, “Bet this one is called Andheri coz it’ dark and enclosed.”

                Andheri translates to dark in English while Ujala translates to light. Lakeisha’s eyes fell on Dilli Darwaza and followed the boundary wall which formed an artificial horizon. The wall curved past them and hid behind a thicket, and then her eyes fell on the ship-shaped structure.

                “Let’s go to Jahaz Mahal”, she said.

                She pointed to a steamer like structure in the distance. ‘Jahaz’ translates to Ship, while ‘Mahal’ to palace. Jay spied a few villagers’ hutments in between them and the palace and did not want to invade on their privacy.

                “Let’s take the car and enter via the main market like normal people”, Jay said.

                They retreated to the car park of their resort and next stopped for tea in the market place. On either side of them were ruins. Far south they could see Roopmati Pavilion, it was at a lofty height. On their left were ruins of a mosque. Behind them was a Hindu temple of recent origins.

                “Hey doesn’t the architecture look Buddhist”, Lakeisha said.

                Jay saw she was looking at a Jain temple on the right.

                “There’s no mention…wait there is… it’s a Jain temple”, she continued, "Doesn't show it's history though."

                The Jain temple was in use and was open as place of stay aka as Dharmasala. The Durgah on the left was supposed to be two floors, of which only one stood now. They roamed the entire building from the top; stairs led to the now can-be-called terrace. Two tombs and a mosque were enclosed in this building. They crossed over to Jami Masjid, but were informed that it was closed for the day, so they walked into the building behind Jami Masjid – Hoshang Shah’s tomb.

                “It seems the Taj Mahal’s architects made a trip to see this building to take some ideas from it”, Lakeisha said.

                The marble mausoleum was a soothing sight, with well-maintained gardens around it. Pavements led into the tomb from the north and south gates. There were at least three graves inside the main building. The eastern boundary wall had a row of evenly spaced columns supporting a roof, for people's shelter. They exited the walled area onto the road but avoided Jahaz Mahal on their right and headed in the direction saying, “Sunset point.”

                The rest of the monuments would have to be done tomorrow. They decided for a quiet dinner in their room. Jay had carried his hip-flask which was gifted to him by his darling wife. It would be enough to keep them cozy.

Part 3: The Love Story

                Their breakfast done they were at the doorstep of Jahaz Mahal, it was indeed built like a ship. The upper deck had views of water on both side and the elongated form of the building made it even more so.

                “Was it really envisioned to be a ship?” Lakeisha said.

                The boundary walls  on either side  were far enough for the housed water to give it a look of being adrift at sea. The palace held 15000 women to form a harem in the Khalji-era.

                “It would have looked good with curtains”, Lakeisha said.

                Domed canopies adorned the ship, with steps at both ends. The garden were well maintained by the Madhya Pradesh State Tourism Development Corp. Behind them adjacent to Gada Shah’s shop was the Royal palace of which Hindola Mahal was one of the standing structures- the rest destroyed or plundered. A huge stilted area in the center in front of an Olympic sized swimming pool type depression was marked as queen’s bath. They circled back to Jahaz Mahal via the left hand side tank.

                “These look like barracks”, Jay said.

                They were equidistant from the Royal palace and the harem. Jay pointed at the water distribution system in the knee-length remains of the colony of houses. Before they exited they paid a visit to the onsite Museum.

                “Oh there’s a love story here”, Lakeisha batted her eye-lashes at Jay, “Roopmati Pavilion’s Rani Roopmati had a lover Baz Bahadur and they used to be together most of the time.”

                There were painting and inscriptions, family trees, invasion history and coins. Lakeisha posed with her Rs. 5/- and Rs. 10/- coins next to the coin collection.

                “One memory for the BJP era”, she smiled.

                Next they visited Jami Masjid, which had shut down yesterday. It was a huge single storied structure almost a football fields length with innumerable domes on one side  -  the side facing towards Mecca.

                “For acoustic reasons, one must say”, Jay said.

              They entered the car and explored further. Lakeisha had downloaded a map of Mandu and they headed to the various isolated ruins. Chor-Kot mosque, Chappan Mahal, Ek-khamba Mahal – all singular structures. Sarai Kothdi a rectangular structure win nine rooms.

                “Probably they had them designed as a wall for a greater sense of security and fortitude”, Jay said.

                Darya Khan’s Tomb was the next huge campus with a Mosque, Lal Sarai and a tank. From here they could see Nilkanth Palace in the distance and decided to skip it as it was too much off the road. And as per Lakeisha’s view, too much hassle to see a singular repetitive styled building. Next they stopped at Malik Mughith's Tomb, which was opposite a lake. Various holiday resorts dotted the lake. It had boating rides in it too. Malik Mughith's Tomb was similar to Darya Khan’s tomb and that’s when Lakeisha pointed to a diversion towards Dai-Ka-Mahal. It was another singular domed structure.

                “But it’s next to Echo Point”, Lakeisha said, she was pointing in the direction of the road. They could see people shouting, so they shouted back.

                “Maybe they would think it’s their echo”, they both laughed.

                Dai-Ka-Mahal was unique because it had a would-be stream, if it was the monsoons. Hence it felt more tranquil.

                “Look at Rani Roopmati’s Pavilion”, Lakeisha said, “Too bad, the love story’s a tragedy!”

                “The Mughals invaded and Baz Bahadur fled while Roopmati poisoned herself so as to not fall into the hands of the enemy. Wait there’s more… Baz Bahadur came back and won Mandu back but only for one year, before the Mughals took over again.” Lakeisha read.

                “Let’s have lunch”, Jay said

                “No, it’s okay, we’ll eat some fruits from the street vendors”, Lakeisha continued,” I want to see Roopmati’s Pavilion. The love story has intrigued me.”

                “It says here, that Roopmati Pavilion was initially built as an observation post, but later modified for Roopmati's use”, Lakeisha continued to read from Google.

                They drove to the southern end of Mandu. It was an incline from the car park. They had some lime juice and freshly cut pineapple for company. First was Baz Bahadur’s Palace and it overlooked Rewa Kund, another tank.

                “Are you sure this Baz Bahadur was not a pervert”, Jay continued, “Looks to me like he had Rani Roopmati cornered and ogled at her having baths.

                Both laughed. The palace was multi-leveled as it was on an incline. A complex structure with cisterns in the center, room for guards to stand at the entrance. Spacious open courts, beautiful gardens and stupendous view of the countryside.

                “And of course a view of the wholesome Roopmati Pavilion”, Jay said when they were at the topmost level, continuing is insinuation.

                "Didn't you see the paintings of Baz and Roop riding horses together", she said.

                Roopmati Pavilion could be reached via steep iron ladder or an S-shaped climbing pathway. It was a two-storey structure with domes in it – the domes added later so as to give it a non-military look. The structure was sturdy, one of the most recent of empire before the Marathas took over from the south.

                “A view to kill for” Jay said.

                “Who? Rani Roopmati or the valley?” Lakeisha said. She too got in on Jay’s jokes whenever she could.

                The river Narmada to be seen as a silver outline in the south, followed by another strip greenery which then got lost into the horizon.

Part 4: A Brief History 

                They had reached home and showered, it was a Monday. And Lakeisha loved these Monday offs. Jay had bent her towards these kind of offs – the ones after a vacation.

                “To decompress after the jet lag”, one of his dialogues

                “See what I penned down, while you drove back”, she said

                “In 500AD Mandapa-Durga gave Mandu its name and maybe the system of barter,
                Then the Paramas from 950AD to the 13th century got about the sense of money charter.

                Mandu via Alaudin Khalji of Delhi via Ainu-l Mulk got the copper Tanka.
                1400AD it was widely used as the tanka or taka or tangka.

                Which was followed by the Gani and then Dinar.
                1406AD Hoshang Shah brought Mandu to its greatest splendor.

                While Ghiyas-ud-din’s Jahaz Mahal housed women, numbering thousands.
                In 1534 Mandu came under Humayun's rule who was from a background of Persians.

                But it was Sher Shah Suri in 1538 to bring in the universal Silver rupee.
                Yet in 1544, our lover Baz Bahadur was happy only with Roopmati.

                Roopmati killed herself so as to not fall prey to Adham Khan.
                Adham Khan a part of the Mughal era’s Akbar the Great’s clan.

                Then  in 1732 Peshwa Baji Rao-I, would  bring Mandu the Mohur.
                Followed by the British Rupiya; in 1950 one pice divided the anna by four.

                Pice and anna being dissolved into Paisa and then into the Rupee.
                And demonetization made our trip on the coins of 5 and 10 Rupees.”

“Needs a little bit of work, but nice!”

               

--- THE END ---

Length of blog: 2900 words.
Genre: Road-Trip