Surrounded by the lofty Aravalli hills, the place looked like a piece of Nandankanan. Eight royal men on horseback were riding toward Merta. After crossing a massive banyan tree near the fields, they arrived at a small marketplace. There, village folk had gathered with earthen pots, utensils, and other daily essentials. The villagers respectfully stepped aside to make way for the approaching royals. From where these men were coming was unclear, but their build and bearing suggested that they belonged to a high royal lineage.

After passing the market, they reached a large pond beside which stood a small fort on a hill. The royal men paused by the pond, taking a moment to closely observe the fort. They needed to reach it before sunset. Besides, they were all weary from the long journey.

The guards had already spotted the approaching group from a distance. As per prior instructions, they opened the main gates of the fort — something that surprised the visitors, as they had arrived unannounced. The fact that the gates were being opened for them, despite being strangers, indicated that Merta was already informed of their arrival in advance.

As the royal men entered the fort, a shower of flowers began to rain upon them. The women of the fort welcomed them with traditional ceremonial trays.

Among the visitors was a young man, while the rest were middle-aged. The youth had a powerful physique, and his entire being radiated royal authority. The fort’s women immediately recognized him at first glance and began to whisper among themselves. However, under strict instructions from Dudaji that no disrespect be shown to the guests, everyone kept their composure.

Meera’s uncle, Veeramdevji, and his son Kumar Jaimal stepped forward with folded hands and said,

“Namaskar, on behalf of the people of Merta, we welcome you.”

A garland in Jaimal’s hand — he stepped forward, placed it around the young man’s neck, and embraced him warmly.

Among the royal guests, the elder man folded his hands to greet Veeramdevji and said,

“We are quite astonished — how did you know of our arrival?”

Veeramdevji replied, “My father, Rao Dudaji, knows everything. As per his instructions, all arrangements for your hospitality were made in advance.”

That night, a grand feast was organized in the northern wing of Merta Fort to honor the guests. The visitors were deeply moved by the hospitality and wisdom shown by such a small kingdom like Merta. At the center of all the arrangements stood Rao Dudaji.

The elderly visitor placed a silver plate containing a coconut, gold ornaments, golden cloth, flowers, and sweets into Dudaji’s hands and said, “I come as a representative of Moti Singh Rana Sangha Singh, with a proposal for you.”

Now Dudaji and Moti Singh stood face to face. This was the very moment Dudaji had been waiting for. When he smiled gently and nodded in agreement, Moti Singh continued, “For the past several months, we’ve been hearing constant praise of the Merta princess Meera from many quarters. We are captivated. Ranaji is searching for just such a princess — one who is unparalleled in beauty, virtue, and wisdom — to be the future queen of Mewar. Therefore, on behalf of the crown prince of Mewar, we ask for Princess Meera’s hand in marriage. Ranaji has heard every word of the priest through his envoy and has now sent us once again.”

Rao Dudaji took the plate from Moti Singh and said, “I, Rao Dudaji, former Rana of Merta and Meera’s grandfather, accept this proposal.”

“We are deeply pleased by your gracious behavior. There was a weight on my heart for some time, but today it feels lifted.”

Rao Dudaji now understood that Pandit Gadadhar had been absolutely right. Indeed, Rana Sangha was a wise man — sincerely regretful about the recent events in Merta. He had sent his own son along with trusted ministers to offer this proposal. These men clearly had deep ties with the royal house of Mewar.

They must be bound by ties of kinship — otherwise, such important men would never have accompanied the prince on this mission. It also became clear that Moti Singh was someone very close and trusted by Rana Sangha. No, there had been no mistake. After all, when Giridharji (Lord Krishna) is present, what is there to fear or worry about? He had been worrying needlessly.

Meera’s grandfather, Rao Dudaji, had long been anxious about her future. He had woven many dreams around this beloved granddaughter of his. He never wanted anything to damage her life in any way. In Rajput society, women were often treated as lesser beings, compared to animals — placed on that level. That’s why he had nurtured Meera’s intellect and wisdom, had taught her to live with independence. But what he feared most was any blow to her dignity. That day, the conduct of the royal priest of Mewar had deeply disturbed him. The priest had made it clear that in their eyes, a woman was nothing more than a servant at a man’s feet. If such a priest could insult a princess with those words, what kind of mindset might the rest of that royal family hold? That thought had troubled him greatly.

But now, Rana Sangha himself had sent his son, Prince Bhojraj, along with Moti Singh and other dignitaries to complete the engagement ceremony — and this moved Rao Dudaji deeply. The dark cloud of anxiety pressing on his chest lifted completely. He was now assured that Meera, as the Queen of Mewar, would live with her head held high, her self-respect intact.

This news spread through the palace within moments. The wind from the distant desert came rushing in and rang the bells of the Chaturbhujji Temple in celebration. This joy was not only for Rajputana, but for the entire Aryavarta (ancient India). Through the ringing of those bells, it felt as if the Lord Himself had given His divine consent to the union.

A ceremonial plate of gifts was sent to Meera’s chambers through Ramabai. Dressed in a moss-green golden-embroidered outfit, adorned with ornaments and a golden veil, Meera was brought to the Chaturbhujji Temple. Prince Bhojraj was brought there as well. In the presence of God, Pandit Gadadhar conducted the engagement ritual for the two of them.

The engagement ceremony was completed. Meera’s royal bearing was incredibly poised. During the engagement, her aunt (Jethima) and Ramabai sat closely beside her the entire time. At one point, her aunt whispered in her ear, “Meera, just take a look at your future husband once.”

Usually, Rajput women express a certain cheerfulness during such moments, but Meera’s demeanor was firm and composed. She didn’t feel it proper to look directly at Bhojraj in front of everyone — fearing that her in-laws might perceive her as overly eager or immodest.

After the engagement and dinner, a formal meeting took place between the royal men of Merta and Mewar.

Rao Dudaji said, “Rana Sangha’s second wife belongs to my brother’s family.”

He continued, “Merta doesn’t have very cordial relations with Marwar. They will never accept Meera’s marriage to Bhoj easily.”

At that, Moti Singh replied, “Ranaji himself has kept this news confidential for now.”

Among the Mewar delegates was Surajmal, who added, “Ranaji has carefully planned everything to ensure this marriage proceeds smoothly. He has made arrangements so that the Rana of Jodhpur, Rao Ganga, doesn’t feel slighted. To that end, Rana Sangha has increased the respect and status of his second wife, Dhanabai. He has granted her several jagirs (land grants).”

Veeramdev listened with surprise — because this same Dhanabai was the daughter of his paternal cousin. And now, a girl from his own family — his brother’s daughter — was about to be married into that very branch.

He had also heard that Rana Sangha had kept Rao Ganga’s son, Maldev, close by his side. But all of them were known rivals within the extended clan. Veeramdev couldn’t fathom how Meera would thrive in such a family. Though he couldn’t question his elder brother, Dudaji, openly — he truly didn’t understand what had convinced Rao Dudaji to agree to this match.

Still, Veeramdev tried to ease the tension. He said, “There has always been a long-standing bond between the Rathores and the Sisodias. I believe Rao Ganga will be pleased with this alliance. After all, the wife of Rana Lakha of Mewar, Hansabai, was the daughter of our ancestor Rana Chunda. She was our paternal aunt.”

Shringarabai had been married to Rana Sangha’s father. She was the daughter of another wife of Raymalji, Rana Sangha’s father.

While the royal men were engaged in conversation in one wing of the palace, at that very moment Ramabai arrived at Meera’s chambers, bringing Bhoj along with her. Meera was lighting a lamp and speaking her heart to Giridharji (Lord Krishna). The sudden arrival of Bhoj with Ramabai startled her slightly. She instinctively drew Giridharji close to her chest and stood up.

Ramabai came close and whispered in Meera’s ear, “Rana Dudaji has strictly instructed that the two of you speak privately before the wedding. We’ve all noticed—you didn’t glance even once at Prince Bhoj.”

Meera understood why her grandfather was doing this. His words were sacred to her—like Holy Scripture. Ramabai quietly left, closing the door behind her. Now, Meera and Prince Bhoj were alone in the room.

Meera asked the prince to sit. The two of them sat at a respectful distance, like strangers. A cool breeze entered through the open window, bringing with it the scent of flowers from the garden. From the open sanctum of the temple, the sound of ringing bells floated in. Both of them sat silently for a while. Then Prince Bhoj finally spoke:

“When I entered your chamber, I saw you speaking to that idol. I was quite surprised.”

Meera replied, “I want to live in people’s hearts through wonder.”

The prince hadn’t expected such a response. Trying to ease the atmosphere, he said, “I’ve heard much about your singing. I’ve come all this way just to meet you. Will you sing something for me?”

There was a deep sincerity in the prince’s voice—a kind of emotion Meera had never heard from any man before. The two of them gazed at each other for a long time. In Meera’s chest, it felt as if thunderclouds were rumbling. She began to sing: “Maayree, main to Govind leeno mol.” (O mother, I have sold myself to Govind/Krishna)

Prince Bhoj thought to himself — this wasn’t merely about devotion or sacrifice. Meera was saying something far deeper — that Govindji had bought her soul.

When Meera finished her song, Bhojraj said, “Meera, before our marriage, there are a few things I’d like to discuss openly.”

Meera set her ektara aside and replied, “Yes, go ahead.”

Prince Bhojraj said, “My father, Rana Sangha, is planning to claim the throne of Delhi.”

Meera replied, “That’s certainly joyful news. But the Rajput rulers have no unity among themselves — they are envious of one another. In such a situation, Rana Sangha capturing the throne of Delhi would be extremely difficult. Then there’s the age-old conflict between the Rathores of Marwar and the Sisodias of Mewar. In such a climate, Rana Sangha forging an alliance with the ruler of Sirohi has turned Rao Ganga of Jodhpur into an enemy. His diplomatic relations with the ruler of Bikaner have also strained Bikaner’s ties with Marwar.”

“In the East, to gain allies, he married Karmetbai — the sister of Rawal Narbad Singh of Bundi. And now, to bring Merta to his side, he wants me as his daughter-in-law. I understand everything, Kunwarji — this is all politics.”

Kunwar Bhojraj was stunned by Meera’s words. The sharp political insight and awareness of current affairs from the princess of a small state like Merta truly amazed him.

As their conversation continued, Bhojraj, without realizing, shifted from the formal “aap” (you) to the more familiar “tum.” He said, “No, it’s not all politics. Rana Sangha was genuinely impressed by your virtues. I myself have heard so much about you, and today I’ve seen your brilliance firsthand. My father and I both believe you’re worthy of being the crown princess of Mewar. Now the question is — do you think I am worthy of you?”

Meera smiled softly and said, “If you had asked such questions before our engagement, they would have made sense. But now, they’re meaningless.”

Kunwar Bhojraj replied, “I am Rana Sangha’s son. We take pride in respecting others’ opinions. So please, speak your mind freely.” (Continues)

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Published under International Cooperation with "Sindh Courier"