The Feast of Roses (53 page)

Mehrunnisa is, of course, known more contemporarily as Empress Nur Jahan. Jahangir first bestowed on her the title of Nur Mahal, “Light of the Palace,” and later, sometime in 1616, changed it to Nur Jahan, or “Light of the World.” In Mughal India titles were (as they were in the Europe of that time) marks of imperial favor and blessing. The nobles of the court and the women of the
zenana,
being closest to the Emperor, were all beneficiaries of this favor, in some cases posthumously.

The word
nur,
signifying “light,” had its antecedents in Emperor Akbar’s time—he was known as a devotee of the sun, even conceiving a new religion that had at its basis the worship of the sun. When Jahangir ascended the throne, he used this sun imagery in his own title, calling himself Nuruddin Muhammad Jahangir Padshah Ghazi, the first of which was to denote “Light of the Faith.” So it was only natural for him to give Mehrunnisa this lofty title too, calling her the Light of the World, of the imperial world—she was the one in whom was lodged his well-being and comfort.

I chose to retain the name Mehrunnisa—the name she was born with—for various reasons. Primary among these was the fact that it was a name
I
was comfortable with, having lived with her through
The Twentieth Wife
(Pocket Books, February 2002), which tells the story of her life before she married Jahangir. I also believe that both she and Jahangir would have, in private, thought of her as such—Mehrunnisa. The title of Nur Jahan was one for the more public world.

If the other characters in the book are unfamiliar upon reading
The Feast of Roses,
it may be because they too are better known by their later titles. Ghias Beg, Mehrunnisa’s father, is known as Itimadaddaula, a title given to him by Emperor Jahangir. And his tomb at Agra, diagonally across from the Taj Mahal (and, in my belief, the early ancestor of the Taj, with its prominent and lavish use of
pietra dura
inlay of semiprecious stones in marble), is called Itimadaddaula’s tomb. Mehrunnisa’s first husband, Ali Quli Khan Istajlu, is known by his title of Sher Afghan. Her brother Abul Hasan is known as Asaf Khan IV. Her niece, Arjumand, is Mumtaz Mahal—the woman for whom the Taj was built, the woman from whose title of Mumtaz Mahal the very name of the Taj Mahal comes. Khurram is Emperor Shah Jahan; he is very little known as Khurram.

The Feast of Roses
is a fictional account of Mehrunnisa’s life as Empress Nur Jahan. But it is, in the main, historically accurate. Mehrunnisa did form a
junta
of sorts with her father, Ghias, her brother Abul, and Prince Khurram. It was evident, to courtiers and travelers alike, that from behind the veil it was Mehrunnisa’s voice that commanded the actions of these three men. But only to a point, since the rift in the
junta
also became obvious about halfway through her reign as Empress.

There is documentation on Mehrunnisa’s attempts to marry Ladli to Khusrau, and to Khurram, although the latter is sometimes regarded as false by contemporary historians. I chose to believe both accounts, for the arguments put forward against Khurram’s marrying Ladli were mostly these—that Khurram was so in love with Arjumand that he would not countenance marrying again, and that to Arjumand’s cousin. Khurram undoubtedly adored Arjumand; he demonstrated that by building the world’s greatest monument to love, the Taj Mahal, in her memory. But he did marry again, about five years after he married Arjumand. More importantly, why would Mehrunnisa not ask Khurram
first,
before she asked Khusrau? Khurram was the prince she was so clearly schooling to be the next Emperor, why search elsewhere for a suitable groom for her daughter? Especially Khusrau, half-blind, half-demented, blessed only by his father’s disfavor. Shahryar was almost certainly a last choice, for the prince sported, even in his lifetime, the unflattering nickname of
nashudani
—good-for-nothing.

Sir Thomas Roe mentions Mehrunnisa copiously in his memoirs, realizing, quite soon after his arrival in India, that the “beloved wife” was the real power behind Jahangir’s throne. He is, naturally, an excellent source for Anglo-Indian relations during Jahangir’s rule, and an interesting witness of court politics and the
junta
’s infighting.

Mahabat Khan’s coup is also based on historical record. Mehrunnisa was about fifty years old when this happened, had been Empress for sixteen years, and was at the very pinnacle of her reign. The coup hurt her in more ways than one, leading to her swift downfall after Emperor Jahangir’s death.

Other incidents—the lion hunt with Jagat Gosini, the public brawl between Mehrunnisa and Jahangir where they slap each other, Mehrunnisa killing the intruder into the imperial
zenana
—are also documented, though whether they are accurate or the stuff of legend, myth, or gossip is in some doubt.

I have taken some liberties with historical facts. The ship
Rahimi,
which indirectly caused so much trouble for the Portuguese Viceroy, and by association for the entire Portuguese embassy in India, belonged to Jahangir’s birth mother, Maryam Muzzamani—not Empress Ruqayya Sultan Begam. Ruqayya did own trading ships, as did Mehrunnisa, but I “gave” the
Rahimi
to Ruqayya to suit the purposes of my story.

Also, Khurram receives his title of Shah Jahan from his father after the Deccan wars (which he went to more than once), and not the Mewar campaign. But there is little doubt of his complicity either in his brother Prince Khusrau’s death or in the wholesale massacre, just before he ascended the throne, of the men connected to the royal family who had any claim at all to the empire.

And since you have reached this far, thanks must go to you, dear reader, for accompanying me on this journey into India’s past.
The Feast of Roses
ends Mehrunnisa’s story. I do hope you have enjoyed both this story and
The Twentieth Wife
as much as I have enjoyed narrating them.

Indu Sundaresan
October 2002