Amer Palace VII

Sila Devi Mandir (Amer Palace)

As Princess Meera was lost in her own thought, Damyanti continued her talk. Her voice resonated with pride and reverence as she recounted the legendary tales of their ancestors. "The one who founded Mewar was called Bappa," she began, her tone reverent, "His roar alone was enough to make enemies tremble in fear. Rana Hamir, the gallant and mighty, started the legacy of the Ranas. He was the epitome of valor and sacrifice."

Her son, Jai, listened intently, his eyes shining with admiration for their noble lineage. "Rana Kumbha sought the shelter of Ekling, ensuring that the royal kingdom remained unconquered," he added, his voice echoing with reverence for their forebears.

"Then came the warrior who was a lion on the battlefield," Damyanti continued, her words infused with deference. "With only one hand and one eye, he remained unwavering in his determination. Even the three realms feared the courage of Rana Sanga."

Prince Jai nodded in understanding, his respect for their ancestors growing with each tale recounted. "Took many wounds on his body but still pressed forward," he interjected, his voice filled with admiration. "Such was the courage of Rana Sanga."

"And your grandfather," she paused, her voice catching with emotion, "who tore through the enemy lines without hesitation, his loyalty to his brother unwavering." 

"And finally," Jai added, his voice filled with awe and admiration, "the greatest warrior of them all. Maharana Pratap, who never once broke a promise, who never compromised on his morals and ethics."

Damyanti nodded solemnly, her eyes locking with her son's. "All of them were worthy to be heirs of King Ram, the paragon of virtue," she affirmed, her voice resolute. "You, too, must strive to embody both karma and dharma, my son."

"I promise you, Mother," Jai declared, his voice firm with determination. "I will honor our ancestors and uphold the values they cherished."

But as Damyanti's words came to a close, her daughter's voice pierced the solemnity of the moment with a bitter edge. It was because Princess Meera was unable to bear the hypocrisy any longer and thus interjected with a sarcastic tone.

"Why are you forgetting the greatest of them all, our father, Maha Singh?" she remarked, her words dripping with disdain.

Princess Meera's gaze bore into her mother as she dared to challenge the carefully crafted narrative that her mother spurned by showing only the the positives of the family heritage while ignoring the negatives. "Are we to disregard his contributions and sacrifices?" she pressed on as her tone continued to drip with scorn. She refused to let her mother gloss over the inconvenient truths of their past.

Damyanti's anger flared at her daughter's blatant disregard for propriety and tradition. Her usually gentle gaze now ablaze with indignation. With a steely resolve, she attempted to silence her daughter's insolence by a piercing stare conveying the weight of her disapproval.

But Princess Meera, undeterred by her mother's disapproval, remained resolute. Her spirit unyielding in the face of authority. With a defiant tilt of her chin, she led Prince Jai towards their father's picture with a pointed remark.

"Come, seek the blessings of your father also, Jai," she insisted, her voice laced with sarcasm that cut through the tense atmosphere like a knife. "His picture is right there," she added, gesturing towards the portrait with a dismissive flick of her hand.

Princess Meera defiance was a stark reminder of the deep-seated resentment that simmered beneath the surface. Then she continued.

"You have to take lessons from a warrior's code from his life," Princess Meera said, her tone biting with sarcasm. Her words hung heavy in the air, laced with feelings of being dismissed that had simmered beneath the surface for four years. With each syllable, her frustration threatened to boil over.

Caught in the uneasy tension between his mother's commanding presence and his sister's biting remarks, Prince Jai stood with conflicting emotions. With a furrowed brow and a heavy heart, he hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting between the stern countenance of his mother and the defiant stance of his sister.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Prince Jai finally stepped forward. His movements slow and deliberate. As he stood before his father's picture, he bowed his head respectfully, his lips moving in a silent prayer of reverence and homage.

"Accept my bow, father," the uncertainty was still evident in his tone because of the intense atmosphere.

As she spoke, her gaze bore into her mother's. A silent challenge in her eyes daring Damyanti to acknowledge the hypocrisy of her teachings. 

"And what of the lessons our father's life can teach us?" she pressed, her voice still tinged with a contempt. "Do we not owe it to ourselves to honor his memory as well even though he is not here with at this time?"

Her words hung in the air like a weighty accusation, challenging her mother to confront the uncomfortable truths that their family history held.

But Damyanti's patience had worn thin, her anger boiling over as she finally intervened. "Enough," she snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. "Prince Jai, go back to your room. All others inside the temple are dismissed for now."

Prince Jai's opened his mouth to protest, but his mother's stern gaze silenced him. He knew better than to defy his mother's command.

"Now," Damyanti insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly Prince Jai and the other servants retreated from the temple, leaving Damyanti and her daughter, Princess Meera, alone in the solemn silence of the Sila Devi Mandir.