The Siege

BY S.S. Bodkhe
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The Siege
There are those times in history when so many things are happening in the moment that of them
are washed away with the currents. The year was 1946.-The end of World War 2. The world was
just recovering from its fresh wounds; every country busy forming alliances in anticipation of the
next big war. Peace treaties and pacts were being signed on one side of the globe while on the
other side rose waves of unrest. Upheavals, rebellions and civil unrest were not new to the
colonizers. Although England emerged as one of the victorious group of nations it suffered
massive losses in the war. Their economy was in tatters. The growing chaos in its colonies was
the cause of agitation in many of the high offices. It was time to cut its losses. It was the time
for- Decolonization.
For almost 200 years now, India had been the crown jewel in Englands vast expanse of colonies.
They even say the sun never set in the British Empire. But the Indians were adamant with their
freedom struggle and having looted just about every possible resource from India, it was time to
leave. It was time to return back home. News and rumors had started spreading through the
country that the British were finally leaving. Every political party had its own agenda on the line.
Different ideas for the new kind of governments were being discussed. What remained
ambiguous was who was going to get the reins from the British.
The princely states were living in their own presumption that their thrones were safe, they had
always found ways to keep safe. Even under the British rule they plead their allegiance to the
crown by paying them protection tax. This story is of one such princely state of Shivputra in the
southern part of India. The throne was under the rule of Rani Shravasti Bai, who had inherited
the throne by birth. She refused to accept any hand in marriage. She used to say All the love I
need is from my subjects. Ofcourse this irked almost every contender of the throne. Amongst
them was the queens own younger brother Rajputra Satyanand. The throne rightfully belonged
to him and would be handed over to him, but for his sister who was blocking his path to the
throne, to ultimate power, to the respect that came with it, to the thirst for ego that it fulfilled.
But his father- the previous king, believed that his daughter was born to rule the kingdom.

With eyes filled with hatred the prince looked the kingdom grown under his sisters rule. He
witnessed his sister take part in the freedom struggle with the nationalists and rise to a quite fame
amongst her peers. He jeered at her failures and rejoiced her incompetence to parlay with the
British. He did all he could in his power to drive away his sister from the throne but his sister
was a true leader in her own and always privy to the expected attacks. She loved her brother the
most but she knew his love for the power was greater. However the queen mother was ailing and
her recovery was uncertain. It was during these times of turmoil that the British declared their
plans to liberate India once and for all.
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The British Raj was dying and the nation was ecstatic, but there was chaos and chatter all
around. No one knew what the future of the country was going to be like. There were 592
princely states and each wanted to form its own separate state. Each King wanted to retain his
throne. This would mean that the country would have to once again fall into doomsday with each
Princely state fighting each other for territories. That is when Sardar Patel took on the task of
bringing the nation together as one. He went to convince each of the Maharajas and their Queens
to become part of the new country being formed. He ensured them that their privileges would be
preserved except for the administrative powers. The Queen mother saw this as an opportunity to
ensure the upliftment of her subjects after her. The problem lay with how to let the crown prince
down.
The crown prince came back from his tour around the world just in time to learn about the
Queens plan. The crown prince was furious. His anger too was quite justified. He was so close
to attaining his dream. The throne was supposed to be his. It was his destiny, it was his rightful
place that was being snatched away right from his hands. He saw his dream being crushed and
stamped upon by the Queen and he couldnt forgive her for that. He wouldnt let her get away
with it so easily. That night he decided to confront the queen in her chambers one last time-
Why! Dont you believe that I can take care of the state after you?
It is not the question of your competence Satya; it is just what is best for the people
I am this close, dont you dare take this away from me!
It is inevitable, the country is going to become one and it is in the best interest of you and our
people that we unite as one nation together. And trust me Satya, they have promised that you will
get to retain all your rights and privileges
All this time you have been licking the Britishs boots and now you want me to continue doing
the same for some lowlifes! I am the rightful heir to the throne that you have been keeping from
me my whole god damn life
I am sorry Satya; but I cant put your needs before those of my people
It was in that moment, in that very minute that he lost it. The words coming out of his sisters
mouth, the clattering noises of the servants in the palace, the flickering light, they all became
silent. His mind was like an empty blank slate. Pitch black. He got up from his seat, grabbed the
ancestral dagger that had always hung around him and plunged it into his sisters chest.
They are not your people! They are my subjects!
The loud moaning shriek that his sister gave out was like symphony to his ears. He had been
waiting for this moment too long for him not to relish it. He went for the jugular and watched in
marvel at the spouts of blood flowing out of his sisters body. He felt his eyes tear up and he
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didnt know if they were out of pain or of ecstasy that he had just experienced. To see the life
flow out of his sisters body was the most exciting hunt he owned up to in his life.
He walked out of the room, covered in blood and the chief advisor to the Queen knew what had
happened. The sirens in the palace started their bludgeoning noise. Thats when some men
dressed in civilian clothes started entering the palace. The high walls of the palace were not
something that was this easily traversable feat. These men were trained and this was a planned
coup d'etat. It was now evident that the crown prince had been planning this all along and his
sabbatical was just an apparent farce for recruitment.
The advisor looked at the crown prince in disbelief for a moment, his look soon changed to that
of sorrow and disappointment as he saw that smile on the devils face. He knew it was the end of
him. This was the last of the free world that he and his Queen had dreamed of. The soldiers
assigned to the palace soon changed their allegiance and started rounding of the other members
of the family. All the staff that hadnt joined the coup detat was now either dead or breathing
their last breaths. The advisors, the cousins and even the visiting Maharaja of Jaitanpur with his
entourage were rounded up in the courtyard of the palace. Lined up against the wall they were
made to anticipate their death as they heard each shot being fired and the sound of the bodies
dropping dead. With every shot being fired their blood pressure rose and lives flashed in front of
eyes. One unfortunate cook tried to run for escape and fell down as the crossbows arrow pierced
right through his heart. The crown prince with his hands tied behind him overlooked the dead
bodies with a broad smile on his face and his head held high with pride. He ordered some men to
take care of the bodies and went into the backyard of the palace.
The backyard of the palace was an exquisite garden with carefully tended grass. It was
decorated by garden ornaments collected from all over the world. It was the princes own little
paradise. It was bejeweled with beautiful carnations; each bloomed with a different color. There
was a tall obelisk in the center of the elliptical garden. On the obelisk, inscribed in Sanskrit was
the genealogy of the Kingdom. The crown price looked at the names of his forefather inscribed
on the wall and read them down until he saw his fathers name; below it was the inscription of
his sisters name instead of his. He stared at it a while and maybe in that little moment he did feel
remorse ; but soon enough he shook it off and smeared the blood on his hands on the pristine
white marble leaving behind his mark on it.
The scene was majestic; the stars shined on the silky night sky and inside the gondola sat the
British Regent of the princely state with a look of terror on his face. It was a relatively cold night
for the Regent to be sweating so profusely. He sat there with trembling hands as his fear trickled
down from his forehead. He had witnessed the entire act and feared for the misfortune that
awaited him. He once again glanced at the papers placed at the table for him. They were the
papers signing off the princely state to the crown prince. The viceroy had already signed the
papers and it was upto the local regent to do the official hand over to the crown prince. He gazed
to see the yellow light from the lamp post flicker at him. He remembered the day when he first
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landed into this princely state. The warm sweltering heat had hit him across the face like a
wakeup call. He had made this country his home ever since. He had taken it upon himself to see
to their reforms. He had saved the godforsaken natives from killing each other. The
administration of the state was in havoc until he had brought about the reforms. He was
governing them for their own good and this is how they were repaying him. He tried; he really
tried to uplift them but these lowlifes just didnt want to dust off their stupid rituals. Their
mentality was so construed that they fought amongst themselves, brothers killing brothers for a
mere piece of land. His life was spent on this land, giving orders to people. His authority was
absolute when he was in this land; and now it had all come to an end. The very same people who
once used to pay him protection fee had kidnapped him and brought him into their territory and
were extorting him to sign the papers giving up his regency. It was humiliating, it was degrading
but most of it all it was heartbreaking that he was to die at the hands of those bloody Indians
whom once he ruled like a King.
Just about then the crown prince walked in covered with blood.
How do you like my garden Mr.Wineherst?
Its beautiful Sir
You may address me as your Majesty from now on
As it may please you, your Majesty
The words pierced through his heart like a thousand arrows being shot at him. But he was a
hostage in a situation from where it was certain that he wasnt going to get out alive. Maybe if he
complied they would go easy on him and let him live for just a little longer.
So tell me more about your roots Mr. Wineherst?
I come from the third house of Wineherst, we are the descendants of the Earl of Woodelberry.
The crown princes face lit up at the mention of the Earl.
Oh I have heard of the Woodelberrys and their exploits in breaking down the revolts and
rebellions in South Africa. I have seen them slash across the blacks myself. I have heard tales of
them subduing many of the uprisings in British colonies with their tactical expertise. They are
truly the greatest adventurers and explorers. The true strategists of our times. But of all the better
places that you could have been in, how in the hell did you end up in our small sidelined
province?
You see your Majesty, when you are the most disliked member of your clan; you are usually
hired to do the dirty work. But I have had some grand times out here. It felt as though I was
living in a Kingdom of my own. I feel pride in the fact that I have fairly reformed this province
for the better or worse of it.
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Right.. so if you would sign the papers right away and get this process going.
Please just let me go, your majesty. I am not a part of this establishment.
Dont be nave Edward, you worked with my sister and everyone remotely related to that
regime needs to be exterminated. How else are the people to believe that I am their legitimate
leader? Its nothing personal, its just strategic warfare. We are going to give your head to the
people to help them feel freed from their oppression. Its just symbolism.
Edward Winehersts white face turned into ghost pale as his last hope of survival seemed to have
slipped away from his hands. There was no use holding on now, all was over for him. He signed
the papers with a calm expression on his face, he just didnt care anymore. He looked up at the
crown prince and spoke of the most honest and rational words spoken and forgotten through
history-
What do you fight for my crown prince has already been lost. Your pipe dreams have already
been crushed before they start to materialize. You have waited too long to leap. Dont you see
the history repeating itself over and over again? For centuries and again mankind has been on
this Sisyphean task of building their own strong and self-sufficient empires. And time and again
they have failed to sustain it for long. Empires fallen, civilizations destroyed, millions killed for
just a piece of earth. I am myself a product of one such endeavor. No amounts of minerals,
labors, gold that we looted could help us sustain longer. The end of any empire built on blood is
inevitable.
These are just artificial boundaries drawn up by people who are not in touch with ground
relatives. I have seen the future and this war is on its last leg. The age of ideologies is strident
upon us. So you better get you act together boy.
Edward Winehersts head was marched through the province as a symbol for end of the Empire.
The prince ruled the kingdom for a year till India became independent in 1947.On resistance by
the now Maharaja the Indian government threatened to cut off all the resources of the province,
dooming it into a state of isolation.
Shivputra province was dissolved and merged into the state of Karnataka.





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