Nasim Banu climbed out of the steamed hammam and lay naked upon a cool marble slab as her chambermaid lathered coconut oil onto her skin. They massaged the curves under her breasts and tops of her shoulders where she was most sensitive then rolled her onto her stomach to rub her back. If there was one thing Nasim loved most in life, it was the hammamkhana. Shayista built
it with a room below for heating water. There was something
about being pampered in steam that melted away her aches and worries.
She was lucky to live in the plush cocoon of Lal Bagh but this luck was hazardously poised on the whims of the Emperor. If his distaste for Shayista grew, he could easily relieve him of his duties and then what would become of them?
Nasim donned a silk robe and while maids brushed her hair with golden combs, she planned the final details of the Nauraz. It was only weeks away and she was determined to host the most memorable party of the year. Shayista was still cheerless since the death of his baseborn daughter a year earlier. A celebration with music was just what he needed. Softened by the tunes, he was more likely to do as she asked. The Emperor would be visiting and she wanted Shayista to request a promotion for their son. Fortunately the scarf was not a sign of Shayista’s infidelity but still she needed to secure a safety net.
Iradat was not much to brag about but what choice did she have? Buzurg had married below them, a grisly woman who would treat her as a chambermaid if she were to depend on them. Aqidat shirked all responsibilities. Jafar and Abu Nasr were indolent whiners. Alas, if only Abul Fateh were alive.
The maids plucked her grey hairs then combed in traces of amloke berries to create a shine. She sucked in her cheeks as they brushed crushed rubies onto her high cheek bones.
The kajol around her eyes she applied herself. She liked to draw the ends out elaborately. In her jewelled looking glass, she noticed on her forehead, a fresh wrinkle. If she was going to rule the Empire she couldn’t look like an aging goose. This would not do.
She chose a muslin choli, an elegant strand of diamonds and an Arabian attar to dab onto her décolletage. While men with money and power were respected and obeyed, women needed beauty to command. In her youth, she was accustomed to having things just as she liked, her stunning features ensured that. She envied women who were unattractive to begin with. They would never suffer the pain of fading beauty. O, how she yearned for youth.
Nasim met a witchdoctor once who claimed he could slow the aging process but for this he required the blood of a virgin. She would happily have sacrificed one of the dancing girls but they were far from virginal so Nasim gave up on that venture.
Recently Nasim came to know of a pir in Lal Bagh whose elixirs were highly recommended by her friends. Perhaps she would visit him, see what he could offer. Nasim suspected Shayista dabbled in the dark arts. How else could he stay perpetually youthful? Occupied with such thoughts, she stepped out of her chamber to find Eunuch Khajah Ambar waiting.
‘Good morning, your Highness,’ he said, bowing low.
‘Ambar, there you are. The distribution of golap jamuns may begin today,’ she instructed. ‘The full moon is twenty one days away. We mustn’t offend the djinn.’
A wide and fiendish grin spread across Ambar’s face. ‘Have I ever failed you, your Highness?’
‘No, that you haven’t Khajah. Not in the twenty years you’ve been with me,’ she replied sincerely. He came just when she’d needed him most, in the aftermath of losing Abul Fateh, a wound that she seemed to carry alone.
She blamed Shayista for failing to save their son. If Abul Fateh were still alive she would not have to worry about her future. He would have taken care of her. He was the best of her six boys, her youngest, her most cherished.
Nasim dismissed her eunuch and made her way to the durbar hall. She found Shayista there, the public hearing had just finished. He was frowning, frothing at the mouth, dictating instructions vehemently to the Diwan.
Nasim waited at the doors and when he finally stepped out, she greeted him formally. ‘Your Highness, salaam.’
‘Nasim, how are you?’ he asked, his mind elsewhere.
‘Preparations for the Emperor are underway,’ she said.
‘Fine, take what you need from Bhopal. How are our sons?’
‘Aqidat sent a messenger dove: his wife is expecting. Buzurg has fever but he assures me it is not too bad. Jafar and Abu Nasr are fine. Sire, I worry about Iradat. Is it not time to give him responsibilities, perhaps a subha of his own?’
‘He has the brain of a banana bat,’ said Shayista, not disguising his disinterest. ‘He cannot manage his own room. How will he manage a subha?’ His eyes wandered to the immaculately tended rose bush by the edge of his garden.
Nasim jumped to another topic, one more likely to keep him engaged. ‘Pari’s mausoleum is progressing but the stone cutters have asked for a lakh! A hefty fee, don’t you think?’
‘So cancel it,’ said Shayista dismissively. ‘I must exercise.’ With that he took leave.
People were forbidden to interrupt him when he was exercising in his garden. This was his way of ending their conversation with nothing resolved. Nasim sighed. If only Abul Fateh were alive.
‘Your Highness looks distressed,’ remarked Ambar as she returned to her quarters.
‘I don’t know why I put in all this effort: stone carvers, calligraphers, carpenters, for what? Shayista doesn’t even appreciate it.’ She vented her emotions though it was unbecoming of a noble lady.
‘The height of Mughal pretension, these mausoleums and never before have I seen one built for a bastard. When I worked for the mighty Emperor Aurangzeb, I learned the beauty of austerity. One ought not waste.’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Nasim, irritated by his insolence. ‘And you ought not preach.’
What Nasim did not need was a lecture from her eunuch. What she did need was a spell that would make Shayista susceptible to her charms so he would do as she requested when the Emperor arrived. Perhaps the pir could help her. It was worth a try. With the Nauraz almost upon them, she needed a prompt solution.