Bold & beautiful

In the royal boudoir of Princess Jayanandini Singh ofPalaitha hangs a large portrait of a beautiful woman — doe-eyed, aquilinefeatures and a mystical smile. Jayanandini simply can’t do without herfavourite portrait of her grandmother, Rani Zubeida. “Though manyportraits of Rani Zubeida adorn our Jodhpur palace, this one is my personalfavourite. It has a vibrancy, almost telling me to wake up and enjoy everyminute of my life,” says the princess. That is how RaniZubeida was in her life, says her granddaughter. Her life was meant for living,to explore and touch upon every hidden pleasure, at a time when her religionlaid down strict rules for women. “My grandfather, Maharaja Hanumant Singhof Jodhpur, would call her ‘pagli’. In fact, the family stilltreasures an ornate jewellery box gifted by the Maharaja to his wife with‘Pagli’ inscribed on it.” Pagli, she may have beenfor her beloved, but for the rest of the world, she was a home wrecker, a wantonwoman, who ‘acted and danced’ in films, already married andseparated from her husband, with whom she had a son. For the praja (subjects),this was the woman who stole their raja away from the beautiful Maharani KrishnaKumari. Surprisingly, in the royal palace of Jodhpur, where Rajmata KrishnaKumari, the first wife of Hanumant Singh and mother of Maharaja Gaj Singhresides, Zubeida is not spoken off in hushed tones. “A personwho was vivacious, young and with lots of energy — someone who wasabsolutely stunning, with the ability to draw attention to herpresence...” that is how Maharani Krishna Kumari portrays what the worldcalls her ‘souten’, to the new generation,” says Jayanandini.“From going out to the village, and dropping the veil of formality withher attendants, she was the original People’s Princess,” says artistVikramaditya Singh, Jayanandini’s husband. “Hers is an endless sagaof love, a flavour that never goes out of fashion.” As a22-year-old, Shanti Hiranand felt just fear at the prospect of meeting herwould-be guru, Begum Akhtar. “I’d heard tales of her temper andquirky extraordinariness. But she asked me to sing, and I let myself go, withjust one thought in my mind that if I don’t prove myself, then I’dlose the opportunity of being her disciple, forever.” Thusbegan a guru-shishya bond that many found interesting. Two women from seeminglydiverse backgrounds could come to such a level of understanding betweenthemselves, in times that were not very conducive to such social interactions.Shanti belonged to an upper middle-class liberal family, while Begum Akhtarlived within the cloistered environs of a typical feudal home. “Herthinking and style set her apart. She wasn’t even educated. Yet she hadwhat you call the ‘sharifana’ blood... ” Shanti tells us.Shanti recalls how she used to press the feet of her guru, do oddchores for her and stay awake late into the night telling stories by theBegum’s bedside, singing for her till she fell asleep. “I wouldgently pluck the cigarette butt from her hand and caress her face.” In1945, Akhtaribai went back to Lucknow and married a barrister, Ishtiaq Abbasi,and stopped singing. She never sang in Lucknow, because a‘respectable’ wife was not supposed to! Her in-laws insulted heroften, referring to her kotha background, but her husband introduced her torefinement and grandeur. “Their relationship was that of tehzeeb andrestraint, even when they went out together. Begum would not drink or smoke infront of Abbasi Saheb.” Hurt by criticism on the purity of her swaras, sheretorted, “If you had to live the life that I have lived, you would knowhow difficult it has been to maintain my purity at all.”indrani.rajkhowa@timesgroup.com