The Prince's Shadow

Sometime after the British India Company started advancing its control across India, there lived a young nawab of the Mughal court. He was a prince out of the fairy tales; tall and handsome, fair-skinned and with mustaches that gave him the look of a lion. A proper Singh! He threw lavish parties, entertaining British envoys to the many pleasures of his palace in Rajputana. But one thing he never did was hunt tigers. Shikar was the sport of princes, and many British officers attempted to convince our prince to contribute to participate.

“Surely you’ve hunted tigers in the past, Prince Ranveer?” was a question always put to the young prince, who by all accounts was as proud and noble a lord as any. But the young man would not budge. One day, a young British officer that was staying in his manor house outside of Jaipur posed the question again. As a young man from Yorkshire, he wanted to make this posting in India count for all it was worth before he was sent back to his gloomy home in England. He pestered Prince Ranveer during their afternoon tea every day.

“Please, Your Highness, it would be truly wonderful sport! I know you’ve already gone and hunted one, I see his pelt in your library when I pass through. Can’t you organize another?” whined the officer, named Thomas Cooper, one afternoon.

“Her.” replied the prince.

“Excuse me?” said Cooper.

“Her pelt is in the library. The tiger I slew was a female.” said the prince cooly, as he blew on his tea. “I say no again, my friend, I have not hunted a tiger since my coming of age. My father took me out and insisted that a proper nobleman had to be courageous enough to lead. What better way was there than to hunt a tiger. But though I slew the beast, I almost lost my life to her. I am not overly keen to lead another hunt just to lose my life to a tiger.”

“But- “stammered Cooper.

“No, Cooper. Enough.” Said the prince with finality. Turning to his personal aide standing in the corner, Ranveer said cooly, “You there! Bring us more of those little sandwiches. Or will you stand there while your sovereign drinks his tea with nothing to snack on?”

“Of course, sir,” said the servant. His dark green kurta with golden buttons was smart and lovely, he himself glowing with the dignity of nobility. He, like his lord Ranveer, had a fair complexion, with a dignified mustache and hard eyes that showed courage and intellect. Cooper knew that this servant was also a Rajput, though of a family with slightly less social standing. “Perhaps, this man will help me convince his lord. I shall speak to him tonight.” He thought to himself.

That night, Cooper went to the servant’s wing to interview this nobleman turned butler. He found him in his room, a simple yet elegant room fit for his complicated position in life. With sparse furniture, just a bed, writing desk and bookshelf; all of it was made from quality material such as teak and tamarind wood. The room was scented lightly with incense, and the manuscripts on the bookshelf spoke of a man educated and well read. The servant was at his writing desk, writing away at missives, his finger keeping his place on the page of a ledger. His brow was furrowed with concentration, which only served to highlight his noble features. The large deep set eyes, over a nose with a fine aquiline bridge, gave him the look of an eagle or mythical bird, engaged in the mundane task of bookkeeping. Cooper cleared his throat.

“Ahem, good evening, sir. I do not mean to disturb you, but I was hoping for a moment of your time?”

Startled, the servant turned to him and said “My word, you Englishmen do move quietly. We Indians should surely, keep an eye on you. What brings you here, sir? And how may I be of service?”

“I was wondering if you may answer a few questions that have been buzzing in my head for some days now. But firstly, what is your name?”

At this, the servant smiled and said quietly “My name is of no importance to you. I am just a servant in my Lord’s house. He wishes for me to be seen and unheard. So, my name is simply: ‘You There.’” At this, the servant laughed a deep sonorous laugh. Laugh lines creased his face, the years marked with sun and joy had marked him deeply. Cooper was enthralled. Even the sound of this mans voice carried the weight of substance, so much so that for a moment, Cooper wanted to ask him all the questions that had been burning in his youthful mind. It was then that Cooper saw that his noble face was not only creased by sun and wind, but the hair on his head was flecked with the silver of experience. A silver crown that he wore with easy grace.

“Well, I am a subject of another monarch entirely. Her Majesty Queen Victoria’s government has sent me as an envoy to Prince Ranveer, and though I am to remain courteous, I do not have to listen to his commands. Please, tell me your name.” said Cooper, trying to summon all the dignity he could. He felt out of his depth with this man and had to prove that a Yorkshire man was anyone’s equal.

“Very well. My name is Arjun Singh. It is a pleasure to meet you formally, Mr. Cooper.” The noble Arjun said with a smile. He liked this Englishman, though young, Arjun appreciated this young man’s attempts to assert himself. Confidence goes a long way.

“Thank you, Arjun. I was wondering if I might also ask something related to the prince?” Cooper asked hesitantly. “I do not wish to sow discord between servant and master, but I just want to know why is Prince Ranveer so against tiger hunting? I would love to prove myself in the manner you Indian men do, to carry a tale of heroism back to my home that my grandchildren can discuss in the decades after my death!”

Cooper noticed that he was getting emotional and stopped himself when he saw Arjun’s noble face light up. “So, you want to live forever? It is much more likely that you’ll die quickly, with your breeches soiled and innards draped on your head like a woman’s wig!” Arjun laughed a deep laugh, one that sounded like a brewing thunderstorm over the mountains.

“My Lord is unlikely to ever sit a horse with a lance in his hand, just to hunt a tiger for some young Englishman’s flight of fancy. Let go of the dream. He’s already hunted his tiger. Perhaps you’ll hunt yours later in life.” Arjun said, relaxing further in his chair.

“Please, Arjun. Tell me why the prince is against the hunting of tigers if he’s already done it once before? Surely once something has been accomplished, the fear of it loses its power over you? How could a man, with a tigress’ pelt hanging on his wall, fear another. One tiger is as another and we will have rifles! It will not be like in your day with bow and lance.” Cooper argued.

“Because, the last time Ranveer hunted a tiger, he almost lost his life.” Arjun said, with the final tone of a compassionate father. “If I tell you the tale of Ranveer’s last tiger hunt, will you leave the topic behind and serve your duties to your Queen in peace?”

Cooper eagerly nodded his head. He thought “Finally, we’re getting somewhere. If I can learn why, then I can work out the how. I won’t be leaving India without a tiger pelt amongst my luggage, I can assure you of that!”

“Ranveer and I were childhood friends. My family, a lower ranking noble family, has served Ranveer’s faithfully since time of my great great grandfather. When I turned 10, I was officially enrolled in Ranveer’s service as his personal aide. I believe in your country; you referred to the position as a squire? Yes? Yes, as a squire. We learned all things together that a noble boy should learn. Reading, writing, swordplay, military affairs. We shared our summers together as only brothers can. As we grew, it became more present to Ranveer’s grandfather that Ranveer was less suited to the military arts, that his heart was more inclined to poetry and the sciences. He occupied the provinces of the intellectual. Which is very fine and good, but as you know, we are Rajput princes. Our lives are the sword, lance and horse. When Ranveer turned seventeen, his grandfather and father decided it was time for Ranveer to prove himself a true Rajput. The Masters of the Hunt had been baiting the area to lure a tiger from the mountains and after weeks, she was seen drinking from the river. We set out to find her, a small hunting band with Ranveer and I riding behind his grandfather. I was so proud of my brother. I couldn’t wait to toast in his honor. My bow rested at my horse’s flank, ready to aid my Lord with his great task. That night however, Ranveer appeared as if someone had walked over his grave. He confided in me that he wasn’t ready. That fear gripped his heart and that he had been racked in a cold sweat for hours. I assured him that nothing was going to happen. That our company was too numerous for a tiger to overwhelm us all and that I would be by his side the entire time, just as I had always been. At this, my Lord seemed to take heart and seemed to finally sleep.

Come morning, with dawn’s rosy hues lighting the sky, we set out. Ranveer and I rode side by side, but in an entire morning found nothing. We found a clearing in the forest with some tall grass and a stream cutting through the trees. Seeing this, we thought we’d let our horses rest and my Lord and I could have some lunch for ourselves. Ranveer set his lance in the ground, and I rested my bow and quiver against a stone while we cooled our feet in the stream. Just then our horses raised their heads and grew agitated. We dropped our lunch and armed ourselves scanning the tall grass nervously. Just as we stood at the ready and I nocked an arrow, the tigress leapt from the tall grass and fell upon Ranveer’s mare. I loosed an arrow, and then another, hitting the tigress both times. She turned on Ranveer and I and roared. My God, what fearsome noise! I felt as if death had chosen me and all I could think was ‘Shoot! Shoot!’

Ranveer on the other hand had been seized by nerves and froze, rooted to the ground like a tree. The tigress took one step, then two and then leapt again as I shoved Ranveer out of the way, just in time. But my Lord was still seized with panic, the way a goat is seized when he sees the butcher’s knife. I grabbed his spear right as the tigress leapt again. I threw myself in her direction and lanced her in the ribs, piercing her heart. A lucky shot, the beast laid in the grass, vanquished. But my Lord Ranveer was still paralyzed on the ground. I put him on my horse and ran to collect his father so that he might confirm the tigress had been slain. When his father and grandfather saw that the tigress had been pierced through the heart by Ranveer’s lance, they were overjoyed! ‘Our son is a man!’ they exclaimed and held a great feast to celebrate Ranveer’s successful tiger hunt. He could officially be a Rajput prince; he had come of age. But Ranveer knew the truth, and the truth upset him deeply. He started lashing out at me, his honor wounded, knowing that I had accomplished what he was meant to do. After his grandfather died, Ranveer grew sullen and depressed. Our relationship, once golden and brotherly, has never recovered. But I still serve him. Even if he doesn’t truly want me around anymore.”

At the conclusion of Arjun’s story, Cooper was stunned. He had known that Arjun radiated nobility, but how could a man such as him be so content to play second to a man who did not even thank him for saving his life? It brought tears to his eyes to think of Arjun, living his life, hugging the walls as an invisible servant to a prince such as Ranveer.

“I do not begrudge him his fear in the face of a full grown Bengal tigress. Heaven has created few beasts so totally fearsome as a tiger. But I know that the reason Ranveer will never face another, not until he faces his feelings of shame. I know this is why he treats me so differently. He feels shame that he froze and left me to fight the beast alone, which is something I have forgiven long ago. I acted the way I did in the face of that tigress, not out of courage but mechanically. I too was consumed by fear. I do not know why in the heat of the moment; my training came forth and his did not. But don’t mind me, I am happy to continue to serve my best friend. His home is run smoothly so my Lord, my brother does not have to worry again.”

Cooper was stunned, it was if Arjun had seen into his mind and read his thoughts. He felt shame that he could reduce such a beautiful friendship to mere feelings of give and take. This Arjun truly is a noble amongst the ordinary. “The moment I set foot in your study, I had felt like you had the mark of nobility, Arjun Singh. But after hearing your story, I know that it is not only your appearance that bears the mark, but the content of your character shone through. I hope that in my life I can gain a friend and mentor such as you I promise that I will not bother Prince Ranveer again on the subject of the hunt. You have my word, Arjun. ”

“Thank you, Mr. Cooper” said Arjun, with a genial smile. “Please do not worry my master any more than you must. But please I enjoy your company, you remind me of a young man I once knew. Please, young master, tell me more of your home, this Yorkshire, is it?”

“Of course! Well, I was born in a small village…” Cooper began.

The night drifted on with the sounds of Arjun and Cooper telling each other stories and sharing tales of journey. In the garden, a peacock’s song rang out from a young mango tree, announcing that morning had come.

On the other side of the door, Prince Ranveer wiped a tear from his eye and went to bed.