As per the legend, all the miseries of Anarkali’s life were to end with her death. But her sufferings got extended when Akbar decided to set her free. Her new found freedom came with a set of conditions. She was expected to lead the rest of her life in anonymity and never surface before Salim as long as she lived. Anarkali’s mother saw this as a blessing and promised to leave the Mughal empire along with both her daughters. But due to the political and religious tension outside the Mughal dynasty, all the three women disguised and lived on the outskirts of the Mughal land. After several months, when Anarkali recovered from the shock of death and separation, she wrote a series of letters to Salim. But they never reached him. They were buried under the soil and the truth of her existence was silenced.  ‘Scriptors Discovers’ brings you a few excerpts from her writings.
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साहिब ए आलम

अनारकली मर गई, ज़माने की ये अफवाहें झूटी हैं,

मैं ज़िंदा हूँ…

उस रात मुग़लों के एक आखरी ज़ुल्म ने मुझे गुमनामियों के हवाले कर दिया

तब से अपने जनाज़े को अपने कांधों पर लिये तड़पती रहती हूँ

मेरे मुक़द्दर की लकीरें हर जगह से कटी हुई हैं

इनमें से कुछ को मैं अपनी यादों से सिलती रहती हूँ

ये आस लिए बैठी हूँ की आप आएंगे और मुझसे मेरी बेबसी से चीर कर ले जाएंगे

शाही तौर तरीकों से कहीं दूर दराज़

जहां आप एक शहज़ादा न होंगे और मैं कनीज़ नहीं

इस गुमनाम गली का पता मुझे नहीं मालूम

मगर मशरिक़ की और इक्कीस क़दमों की दूरी पर यमुना दीवानगी से बहती रहती है

और क़िबले की तरफ़ जो मुँह करून तो मीलों दूर से भी मुग़लई गुंबद मुझे डराते रहते हैं

मेरे साहिब ए आलम, फ़ौरन आइये

अनारकली

खुद निगहबान
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Sahib-e-Alam,

Anarkali margayi.

Zamaane ki yeh afwaayein jhooti hain. Main zinda hoon. Uss

Uss raat, Mughalon ke aakhri zulm ne mujhe ghumnaamiyon ke hawaale kiya.

Tab se, apne hi janaaze ko apne kaandhon par liye tadapti rehti hoon.

Meri Muqaddar ki lakeerein har jagah se kati hui hain,

In mein se kuch ko main aapki yaadon se silti rehti hoon.

Yeh aas liye baithi hoon ki aap aayeinge aur mujhe meri bebasi se cheerkar le jaayeinge,

Shahi taur-tareeqon se kahin door daraaz,

Jahaan aap ek Shehzaada na honge aur main kaneez nahi.

Iss gumnaam gali ka naam pata mujhe nahi maloom.

Magar mashriq ki aur, ekkees kadmon ki doori par, Yamuna deewangi se behti rehti hain.

Aur Kible ki taraf jo muh karon, toh meelon dur se bhi Mughlayi gumbad mujhe darrate rehte hain.

Mere Sahib-e-alam, fauran aaiye.

Anaarkali. Khuda nighebaan.

Khuda nighebaan.
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(Translation)

 

Anarkali is dead.

This rumor is not true. I am still alive.

That night, as the last gift from cruel royalties of the Mughals, I was handed over to the world of anonymity.

Since then, I have been carrying my own dead body over my shoulders.

The lines of my destiny are ragged from everywhere,

I keep stitching, whatever I can, with your memories.

Hoping that you will come one day and tear me off my miseries and take me along,

To a place far away from all the royalties,

where you won’t be a prince and I won’t be a servant.

I don’t know where I am.

But 21 steps away, in the east, Yamuna flows down with madness.

And when I face the direction of the Qiblah, even from far away, the domes of Mughals frighten me.

 

My Sahib-e-Alam ( Lord of the world), come soon.

Anarkali.

In the security of Allah.

(Check for more letters..)
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Mujeer Pasha

Mujeer Pasha

Mujeer Pasha is based out of Bangalore and writes everyday about everything that does not add value. He tells stories to people he meets in person and makes films occasionally (whenever a film festival is around).
Mujeer Pasha

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