Difference between revisions of "1875"

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I was five when I first heard of Sayaji Gaekwad, the wonderful boy of twelve who was being made King in Baroda. I would look at Dhoomil kaka and think- "no older than him, and a king".  It did not seem so improbable to me, because wasn't Dhoomil kaka much taller, much more knowledgable than I? But the adults all found it fantastic. They would tell stories of the grand coronation, the riches, the magicians,the performers and the British. Always the British, especially when they talked of Baroda.
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[[Image:Jamnabai.jpg]]
  
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That is because the British had deposed Malhar Rao, who was from our region, packed him off from the throne peremptorily. And got instead Gopalrao. That was Sayaji's name, when they brought him in.
 
  
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I would think( smiles) not very different from my Govind, was it?
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Neelkanth is all legs about the room, running, jumping, clambering on, clambering off, fast, faster, phut. he falls and he starts again.
  
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Babaraya:But you were Dhundi then!
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Dada:
  
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Dada: Indeed I was.  
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I was five( Dada's hand falls on Neelkanth's head, who looks up) when I first heard of Sayaji Gaekwad, the wonderful boy of twelve who was being made King in Baroda.
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One summer day, three brothers, anand, 18, gopal,12,  and sampat, 10 along with their father, left Kanvala and walked like a  dusty cloud on the horizon, under the canopy made by the arc of the sun- all the way to the city of Vadodara.
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A pair of eyes looked up from the stillness of Queen Jamnabai. She  asked them why they thought they had been brought all the way.
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"To rule" said Gopal, and the shadow became Sayaji, the Gaekwad of Vadodara.
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Baba, he was your age, this boy..
  
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Sayaji was a successor of the first Gaekwad of Baroda, but from a left handed marriage.. where the bridegroom, agreeing or choosing to marry a woman of lower social status,  catches her right hand with his left one in the marriage ceremony, to keep a certain class difference alive. She and her children will not have any succession rights.
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Babaraya's giant pupil flashes and retreats, floats away from parental exhortation, to wander among shadows that are gathered around him like hanging roots of the banyan
  
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They will say about him that he holds firm to this unexpected right hand offered to him, leaps proudly onto the royal horse, is more of a king than any of his predecessors could ever be.
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Dada: 
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Nasik was bursting with coronation stories,each pearl wanting to outshine the other. We heard of children drowning in the deep carpets of the palace, of trapped sunlight, struggling to free itself from every gem that blazed in the crown, of horses that danced in the fields, of white people in shock at the glory..there were  many stories about the whites .. the generals and tutors and officers in dress that surrounded the boy like the pulp of fruit.
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But two men really tutored him.. Dewan Madhav Rao and a white man. Two teachers, day and night, one pale one dark, moving about him always.
  
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But for now, there is a young boy of twelve going through a bewildering array of very bright ceremonies to announce his ascension.. The ceremonies will lead him into a palace and over the next few years, through a school within that palace where he is the sole student. Advisers of different hues, trainers in different disciplines will stretch the walls of his mind, transforming it, transforming him, till he feels the walls will not hold.  
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Prabhakar leans over Sarasvati's shoulder staring at the baby, Neelkanth has moved away from where he was sitting by Dada's large hand, instead he plays with her mother's toe. Mandakini stands mid ground, between her parents, still, considering her father as he speaks.  
  
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And then those large stretches of time, when he senses he has been left alone, to be bowed and saluted to, while they do the ruling.
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Dada: Such a young mind,
  
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The days of the Doctrine of Lapse are over, but not in spirit. A young child is being groomed by various forces- a British authority wanting a friendly, subservient ruler, and within the palace, those who think differently, who resent the authoritarian deposal of Malhar rao, or then, those who tread a liminal middle path. Being a ruler is a balancing act in these times, Sayaji must learn to be a nimble acrobat.
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Saraswati strokes the head of the baby in her lap
  
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Sayaji will have to wait till 1881 when he is given full ruling powers, till then he is under a Council or Regency. Till then he has time, to feel the walls of his new home, to feel the distance from his previous home, to look carefully at the many marvellous  objects that have travelled from different corners of the world. To touch its lattices, caress the caryatids, and play games upon its cool smooth floors, and marvel when he realises that kings can get such palaces made on order..  
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Dada: it would soon be made tensile.  
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In the maidan horses are made to run, repeated laps.
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Tanjore Madhava Rao, mentor to Ravi Varma, moves to Baroda. He has had many differences with the current ruler and is suspected of being friendly with the critics of the ruler. However, he will return to Travancore again, in time to sort of difficulties in Ravi Varma's life.
 
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[[Image: Gray telephone.jpg]]
 
  
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Saraswati:
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Baba, at your age, I was not Sayaji, but I was curious, I was in a new city, I was learning so many things, asking so many questions. Sometimes I wonder how it is, that despite being my son, you have little curiosity?  Ask me a question.
  
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After a rowdy day of battling his friends in the mud, Dhundi lies on the cot in the verandah at night and stares at a sky that is larger than anything else he can see. In the quiet, he waits for sounds that he could hear once. Sounds from another world.  
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The giant pupils turn. Sarasvati stares at the windows, trying to look reassuring to her child, but is conscious that to him, an expression will barely flicker in her tiny face,  She cannot look long at him either- the anxiety of her child looks too magnified. She lifts up Srikrishna, and with the rest of her brood clinging to different parts of her, moves to cover one window.  
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( she holds on to her stomach as she talks)
 
  
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He listens for those sounds, his open eyes staring at the sky seem to anticipate them. His eyes still have the presence of that other world in them, the other sky that he has come from. His eyes are like pieces of night sky, a restless moon shifts beneath their stillness.
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Sarasvati: How could they decide to make such a  boy the king?
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Dada is distracted, he begins to think.

Latest revision as of 23:55, 15 December 2011

Prince of Wales visits India. Telephone.

His majesties proceeding.JPG


Jamnabai.jpg


Neelkanth is all legs about the room, running, jumping, clambering on, clambering off, fast, faster, phut. he falls and he starts again.

Dada:

I was five( Dada's hand falls on Neelkanth's head, who looks up) when I first heard of Sayaji Gaekwad, the wonderful boy of twelve who was being made King in Baroda. One summer day, three brothers, anand, 18, gopal,12, and sampat, 10 along with their father, left Kanvala and walked like a dusty cloud on the horizon, under the canopy made by the arc of the sun- all the way to the city of Vadodara. A pair of eyes looked up from the stillness of Queen Jamnabai. She asked them why they thought they had been brought all the way. "To rule" said Gopal, and the shadow became Sayaji, the Gaekwad of Vadodara. Baba, he was your age, this boy..

Babaraya's giant pupil flashes and retreats, floats away from parental exhortation, to wander among shadows that are gathered around him like hanging roots of the banyan

Dada:

Nasik was bursting with coronation stories,each pearl wanting to outshine the other. We heard of children drowning in the deep carpets of the palace, of trapped sunlight, struggling to free itself from every gem that blazed in the crown, of horses that danced in the fields, of white people in shock at the glory..there were many stories about the whites .. the generals and tutors and officers in dress that surrounded the boy like the pulp of fruit. But two men really tutored him.. Dewan Madhav Rao and a white man. Two teachers, day and night, one pale one dark, moving about him always.

Prabhakar leans over Sarasvati's shoulder staring at the baby, Neelkanth has moved away from where he was sitting by Dada's large hand, instead he plays with her mother's toe. Mandakini stands mid ground, between her parents, still, considering her father as he speaks.

Dada: Such a young mind,

Saraswati strokes the head of the baby in her lap

Dada: it would soon be made tensile. In the maidan horses are made to run, repeated laps.

Baba, at your age, I was not Sayaji, but I was curious, I was in a new city, I was learning so many things, asking so many questions. Sometimes I wonder how it is, that despite being my son, you have little curiosity? Ask me a question.

The giant pupils turn. Sarasvati stares at the windows, trying to look reassuring to her child, but is conscious that to him, an expression will barely flicker in her tiny face, She cannot look long at him either- the anxiety of her child looks too magnified. She lifts up Srikrishna, and with the rest of her brood clinging to different parts of her, moves to cover one window.

Sarasvati: How could they decide to make such a boy the king?

Dada is distracted, he begins to think.