Inside a room in Chunar Fort, Maharaj Surendra Singh, Virendra Singh, Jeet Singh, Tej Singh, Devi Singh, Indrajeet Singh, and Anand Singh are sitting and talking about various matters.
Jeet: Bhairo did a very clever thing by disguising himself as Indrajeet Singh and allowing himself to be captured by Shivdutt's aiyars.
Surendra: Shivdutt's aiyars were cunning, but...
Virendra: The babaji, riding a lion, tried to act like a siddha (accomplished yogi), but failed to achieve his purpose.
Indra: But however it is, Bhairo Singh must be rescued very soon.
Jeet: Kunwar, don't worry. Your friend will not suffer any hardship, but it is appropriate for him to remain captured at Shivdutt's place for now. He is not foolish; he can escape on his own even without help. Besides, Pannalal, Ramnarayan, Chunni Lal, Badrinath, and Jyotishiji have been sent to help him. Let's see what happens! After sitting quietly for so long, Shivdutt has again set himself up for ruin.
Devi: What is the order now regarding the army that went to the hunting grounds with the Kunwars?
Jeet: It is not appropriate to strike camp at the hunting grounds yet. (Looking at Tej Singh) Right, Tej?
Tej: (Folding hands) Yes, Sir. If the camp remains established at the hunting grounds, we will be able to accomplish our task with great style and enjoyment.
Surendra: If any aiyar returns from Shivduttgarh, we may learn the news.
Tej: Not tomorrow, but someone will definitely return by the day after.
The conversation lasted for more than an hour. We don't find it appropriate to reveal the entire discussion, and we ourselves did not catch the final instruction that Jeet Singh gave to Tej Singh privately after the assembly dispersed. Well, let it be. We shall see what happens; why the rush?
🌊 The Beautiful Stranger
Indrajeet Singh and Anand Singh are sitting in a high-roofed barahdari (pavilion) on the bank of the Ganges, observing the condition of the water. It is the rainy season, the Ganges is very swollen, and the water has reached the base of the fort. Small waves are hitting the walls. The redness of the setting sun falls upon the water, doubling the beauty of the waves. It is silent; no third person is visible in the barahdari except for the two brothers.
Indra: The water will rise a bit more.
Anand: Yes, last year the Ganges was much higher than it is today when Grandfather asked us to swim across.
Indra: That day was great fun too. Bhairo Singh was the fastest of all. Badrinath tried hard to get ahead of him, but couldn't.
Anand: We two also swam alongside the boat that was sent to protect us for about a kos (two miles).
Indra: That was our last swimming test. Since then, when have we had a chance to swim in the river?
Anand: Yesterday I told Grandfather that the Ganges is very swollen these days, and I feel like swimming.
Indra: What did he say?
Anand: He said that it is no longer appropriate for you all to swim; it would be a joke. Swimming is a skill you have mastered; what is the need now? If you feel like it, take a boat and go for a ride.
Indra: He was absolutely right. Come on, let's go for a short boat ride.
The conversation was ongoing when the Chobdar (Gatekeeper/Usher) approached and submitted, 'A very old jeweler (jauhari) is present and wishes to seek your audience.'
Anand: What time is this?
Chobdar: (Folding hands) This humble servant wished to send him away at this hour, but did not dare to, considering a few things: firstly, he has been a loyal servant (namakkhwar) of this court since childhood, and Maharaj (Surendra Singh) also holds him in regard; secondly, he is an eighty-year-old man; thirdly, he says he has just arrived in the city, has already sought the audience of the Maharaj (Virendra Singh), and wishes to seek your audience as well before settling down in the inn to rest, which has always been his custom.
Indra: If that is the case, it is proper to let him come in.
Anand: It doesn't look like we'll get a chance for a boat ride today.
Indra: What harm is there, we can go tomorrow.
The chobdar saluted and left, returning shortly with the merchant. In truth, the merchant was very old, and dignity and refinement radiated from his face. Upon arriving, he saluted and presented two rings to the two brothers. After they were accepted, he took a hint and sat down on the ground.
The old jeweler was treated with respect. After inquiring about his health and the details of his journey, he was instructed to go and rest at his lodging and return the next day. The merchant saluted and left.
Of the two rings presented by the jeweler, the ring given to Anand Singh was set with a very vibrant ruby (manik), while Indrajeet Singh's ring only had a small picture. Indrajeet Singh looked at the picture once intently, thought for a moment, and remained silent.
Later that night, in private and in the candlelight, he looked at the ring again. In place of a gemstone, a small picture of a beautiful young woman (kamsin haseen aurat) was embedded. No matter how small the picture was, the artist had used amazing skill and clarity. Looking at it, for a moment, Indrajeet Singh lost awareness of himself and the woman's picture. It felt as if the beautiful woman herself was sitting before him, and he wanted to say something to her but remained silent, overwhelmed by the awe of her beauty.
Suddenly, he was startled and regretted his foolishness. But what could he do? That picture, in a single moment, erased his boyhood and presented the passionate face of youth before him. A little while ago, complicated rules of riding, hunting, and exercise were swirling in his mind. Now he was trapped in a different confusion, and his mind began plunging into the thought of finding an unprecedented gem.
He forgot about the schemes Shivdutt might be planning now, how and when Bhairo Singh would escape from captivity, what Badrinath and others would do upon reaching Shivduttgarh, when he would get a chance to go hunting again, when he would get the opportunity to take down a lion with a single arrow, and when he should go for a ride on the river in a boat, etc.
Now the only concern was: How did the merchant get this ring? Is this picture imaginary, or is it of someone who exists in this world? Does the merchant know her address? Is this the limit of beauty, or is there more? Is this the treasure of delicacy, grace, and refinement, or is there another? How will my boat cross the river of love for her?
Kunwar Indrajeet Singh learned how to make excuses today and became a master in an hour. He has a bloated stomach, so he won't eat; he has a headache, so anyone talking bothers him; if it's quiet, maybe he'll sleep. He used these excuses to protect himself and spent the entire night tossing and turning on the bed, anxious for morning to come so he could call the merchant and ask questions.
As soon as he woke up in the morning, he ordered the jeweler to be brought before him. However, after an hour, the chobdar returned and reported that the merchant was nowhere to be found in the inn.
Indra: Where did he say he was going to set up camp?
Chobdar: This servant was told by him that he would stay in the inn, but upon inquiring there, it was found that no merchant had arrived.
Indra: He might have stayed somewhere else; find out.
Saying 'Very well,' the chobdar left, but Indrajeet Singh became worried. He was sitting with his head bowed, thinking, when the sound of footsteps startled him. He looked up and saw Kunwar Anand Singh.
Anand: It's time for the bath.
Indra: Yes, I am a bit late today.
Anand: You seem a bit sluggish?
Indra: I had a headache all night.
Anand: How is it now?
Indra: It's fine now.
Anand: Yesterday I thought I saw a glimpse of a picture embedded in the ring the jeweler presented.
Indra: Yes, there was.
Anand: What kind of picture is it?
Indra: I don't know where I put the ring; I can't find it. I had planned to look at it properly in the daytime, but...
Author: That's true, I can vouch for that too!
If it weren't for the fear of revealing his secret, Kunwar Indrajeet Singh would have done nothing but sigh and take long breaths. But what could he do? Out of compulsion, he had to perform all his usual activities and eat with his grandfather. However, his restlessness increased greatly in the evening when he heard that the jeweler was nowhere to be found despite searching the entire city. It was also revealed that the jeweler had lied completely when he said he had already met the Maharaj and would rest after meeting the Kunwars. He had actually not met Maharaj Surendra Singh or Virendra Singh.
On the third day, seeing him so depressed, Anand Singh insisted that they go for a boat ride on the Ganges to cheer up. Indrajeet Singh had no choice but to agree.
Indrajeet Singh wished to take a small, beautiful, fast-moving boat with no one accompanying them—just the two brothers to row and enjoy the river ride. No one dared to contradict him, but an old retainer who had nursed Virendra Singh in his lap and now stayed with the two brothers prevented them from doing so. When the two brothers refused to listen, he got into the boat himself. Considering he was an old servant, the two brothers said nothing and were forced to take him along.
Anand: Take the boat into the current and let it drift—we will row it back later.
Indra: Very well.
There were only two hours of daylight left when the two brothers got into the boat to ride the river because they also wanted to enjoy the moonlight on the way back.
Two kos west of Chunar, on the bank of the Ganges, was a small jungle. As the boat reached it, the sound of a flute (vanshi) accompanied by a soft, melodious song (gaana) fell on their ears. Music is something that attracts everyone's heart, no matter how dull they may be. Even animals forget themselves under its spell. Kunwar Indrajeet Singh's heart had been pierced for the last two or three days. Far from enjoying the river's beauty, he was oblivious to his own body and soul. He was sitting with his head bowed, thinking of his beloved picture. To him, there was silence all around, but this melodious voice turned his head and forced him to look toward the direction it was coming from.
Looking towards the bank, they couldn't see who was playing the flute or singing, but they could estimate that the people whose singing had a magical effect on the listeners were not far away.
Indrajeet: Ah, what a melodious voice!
Anand: A second voice has joined in. There are definitely several women singing and playing music together.
Indra: (Turning the boat's direction towards the bank) It is surprising that these people chose such a place for singing, playing, and amusement! We should go and see.
Anand: What's the harm? Let's go.
The old retainer forbade them from landing the boat and getting off, and he tried to persuade them, but the two did not agree. They landed the boat and walked toward the direction of the sound. After walking a short distance into the jungle, they saw a cluster of ten to fifteen young women who were swinging a swing (hindola) hanging from a tall tree, their beauty doubled by their colorful dresses and expensive jewelry. Some were playing the flute, some the mridang (drum), and others were singing while keeping the rhythm with their hands. Only one woman was sitting on the swing, facing the Ganges. It seemed as if actual fairies were pleasing a daughter of the gods by swinging and singing for her so that they might receive the boon of increased beauty and eternal youth.
But no, their intentions remained unfulfilled, and seeing Kunwar Indrajeet Singh and Anand Singh approaching, the beauties had to run away for some reason, leaving the lady sitting on the swing alone.
Anand: Brother, they all ran away!
Indra: Yes, I am going near this swing. You see where those women went.
Anand: Very well.
Whatever the reason, Kunwar Indrajeet Singh recognized the woman who was left alone on the swing. Why would he not recognize her? He had already seen her picture on the ring presented by the jeweler. Her image was etched in his heart. Now he had found his heart's desire; the one for whom he was ready to sacrifice himself was found without effort. What more could he ask for?
Anand Singh went after the women to find out where they went, but they fled so quickly that not even a glimpse was seen. Frustrated, he wandered for half an hour and then returned to the swing. He found neither the woman on the swing nor his brother there. Anxious, he searched and called out in every direction until night fell. Thinking they might have gone to the boat, he reached there, but saw no one except the old retainer. He became distressed, told the retainer everything, and said, 'I will not go home until I find my dear brother. You go and report what has happened here to everyone.'
The retainer tried every way to persuade Anand Singh and asked him to return home, but to no avail. He reluctantly left the boat there and walked tearfully and wailing towards the fort, as he felt it necessary to inform Raja Virendra Singh about everything that had transpired.