Freedom, She Ruled

The Rani of Bilehra was an unlikely champion of emancipation

- Zehra Naqvi

WHITE LIGHT FILLS THE ROOM as I open my eyes and stare groggily at the unfamiliar surroundings—a huge room with lime-washed walls, high ceilings with ornate arches and my bed, which sags a bit in the middle because it is a palang—with cloth strips stretched across and wound tightly at the edges. And then I remember: I am inside the mahalsara, the women’s palace, in the heart of the Qila of Mahmudabad, a living fort in the Sitapur district of Uttar Pradesh.

My family and I are guests of Raja Mohammad Amir Mohammad Khan. We will be spending two days here, participating in the mourning rituals of Muharram, one of the most prominent, and sacred, cultural observances by Mahmudabad’s royal family.

The palace is divided into two distinct sections—the zenana, the women’s section, and the mardana, the men’s area. In pre- and newly independent India, the women of the Raja’s family were confined within the zenana, where no men except close family members were allowed. The wings still remain distinct—my six-year-old son, Hasan, and I have been given a room inside the zenana, while my husband is in the mardana. Women walk freely in and out of the zenana, but men, other than the family, still cannot enter.

I get ready, leave my room and walk past the huge courtyard of the mahalsara, flanked by large imambaras . On one end of the courtyard are the chambers of the erstwhile Rani of Mahmudabad, the present Raja’s mother.

Rani Kaniz Abid was the queen of the estate of Bilehra, a royal in her own right. A strong, self-possessed woman, the Rani had depth of character and a sharp intellect. She had named the zenana, the usaara, which means ‘prison’. This is the place where humans are kept as prisoners, she would say.