Invitation to the Royal Palace
Hooghly, West Bengal
Today, the air of Anandapur is filled with festivity, as citizens, dressed in their best, arrive at the royal palace with their families. From dawn, the palace is bustling with people of all ages. Inside the expansive and clean halls of the palace, rows of beautifully decorated seats have been set up, with banana leaves and earthen cups of water placed in front of them. The women of the kingdom had prepared these seats earlier, a skill they meticulously learned from Queen Rupmati.
On the eastern side of the courtyard, amidst the glittering halls, King Nepalchandra and Minister Bagalacharan are seated side by side on cushions placed over a carpet laid on the marble floor. Both are enjoying tobacco from golden hookahs, occasionally munching on fried chickpeas and peanuts from a large brass tray. Observing the king, the minister remarks, "Didn't you just had twenty-four ghee-fried luchis, Kashmiri dum aloo, and a large bowl of semolina halwa made with ghee, cashews, and raisins? How can you be hungry again? Give your stomach a rest for a while."
The king, with a wistful expression, responds, "For the next twenty-nine days, I'll have to diet on dry bread, okra curry, and watery rice. My stomach has shriveled up from all that. I must make the most of today. In this kingdom, the queen and the minister have more authority than the king! If I don't eat my fill today, my stomach will turn to skin and bones." The king then continues to crunch on a handful of chickpeas.
The minister, pulling the brass tray closer, sighs, "There is no joy in being the minister of such an intemperate king." Ignoring the comment, the king rises from the carpet and heads towards the kitchen.
In the large kitchen adjoining the southern hall, there is a flurry of activity. Vegetables are being chopped, pastes are being grounded on stone slabs, and spices are being pounded in mortars. Large fires blaze in brick stoves, cooking various dishes in huge iron pots. Once cooked, the delicious food is placed in rows of brass containers. Every effort is made to ensure no one goes hungry. Queen Rupmati and the minister's wife, Kalavati, are overseeing everything. Today's feast is a monthly event where everyone in the kingdom is invited to dine at the palace, an initiative started by King Nepalchandra and Minister Bagalacharan ten years ago, though Queen Rupmati is the driving force behind it all.
Every event has a story, and this one is no exception.
About ten years ago, when the king's father, Bhupalchandra, expressed his desire to retire to a hermitage with his wife, the then prince, Nepalchandra, would throw tantrums, crying, "Oh father, mother, don't leave me. I don't want to be the king. Just thinking about royal duties makes me sick. Wearing those heavy royal robes feels unbearable! I can hardly open my eyes at dawn without father's booming voice waking me up! And if mother leaves, who will cook delicious food for me?"
His mother, the queen mother, Durgavati, standing nearby, rebuked him, "Stop whining, Nepal! You're lying shamelessly despite being a prince!"
"Always being watched and cared for! It's because of this excessive care that you are in this state! You don't want to do anything on your own!"
The queen mother, increasingly irritated by her forty-year-old son's childish behaviour, retorted, "The Maharaja is right. Not once does the prince wake up by himself in the morning. There's no urgency about the kingdom's work! All he does is travel and feast with the minister's son, growing older without taking any responsibility."
Nepalchandra, sheepish, promised, "From tomorrow, I'll wake up on my own and look after the kingdom's affairs."
In reality, his words never matched his actions. Unnoticed by everyone, he would sneak out on horseback with the minister's son.
One day, an exasperated Bhupalchandra declared, "No more delays. Both granddaughters are married off; how much longer will I handle the kingdom's responsibilities? When will I think of the afterlife and worship God? Forty years of sitting on the throne has given me a bad back! The prince is just like the minister's son! Bagalacharan's father, Kalicharan, is in the same state. Now, you two take over the kingdom's responsibilities, or do whatever you want. Our departure to the hermitage is settled."
Queen mother Durgavati and Queen Rupmati exchanged amused glances. Following the royal priest's advice, Bhupalchandra and Kalicharan, along with their wives, left for the hermitage on an auspicious day, amidst the tearful farewells of the citizens. From then on, Nepalchandra and Bagalacharan stopped their endless travels, leading to even more melancholy. Occasionally, they would cry out in sorrow, "Oh father, oh mother!"
Seeing this, the palace residents would either stifle their laughter, hide their faces in their veils, or chuckle. Rupmati and Kalavati would also burst into laughter. Several months passed this way. The king and the minister spent their days eating properly but sulking, as their travels had completely ceased. Despite her numerous attempts, Rupmati failed to cheer them up, almost giving up hope. She would scratch her head in frustration, losing hair and creating knots that took a lot of time to untangle, yet she couldn't find a suitable solution.
One afternoon, while sitting on the bed in Rupmati's chamber during a break, Kalavati sighed, "Friend, the minister doesn't even go for his morning walks nowadays and doesn't respond to anything. If I say something, he starts pouting and crying."
Rupmati, laughing, fell against her friend. "Here they are, eating and crying themselves to sleep on the bed."
Kalavati joined in the laughter. "They are old but still behave like children. Instead of thinking about the kingdom, they are busy with their fake lamentations. What kind of king and minister are they? Earlier, if there were any troubles, their fathers-in-law and mothers-in-law would come up with a solution. Now! Friend, we must quickly find a solution!" Rupmati sought advice from Kalavati. Kalavati, Rupmati’s childhood friend and a lifelong resident of the same kingdom, had entered married life on the same day and in the same kingdom.
"What if we keep them busy by arranging for the subjects to voice their complaints?" Kalavati suggested, resting her cheek on her hand.
"Not a bad idea, but the subjects don't even come to the court to voice their complaints. In this kingdom, the people are content. Earlier, at least they would come at the minister's request. Now, the minister behaves just like the king!" Rupmati pondered Kalavati's words for a while, then a bright idea came to her mind. She looked at her friend with sparkling eyes and shared her plan. After hearing everything, Kalavati was also enthusiastic. "Not bad, let's give it a try!"
With the help of some trusted servants, they devised another plan.
A few days later, after finishing their hearty breakfast, the king and the minister sat on their respective thrones in the royal court, hands on their cheeks, their eyes glistening as they sighed deeply over the absence of their parents. Suddenly, the huge brass bell hanging at the palace gate rang three times, "Dhong, Dhong, Dhong."
Many ages ago, subjects would ring this bell to seek justice, but for fourteen generations of this dynasty, no one had seen such disorder. Though the palace's grandeur had faded, the bell still hung there, polished periodically with tamarind to keep it shining. Sometimes, before entering the court, the king himself would ring it and then promptly sit on the throne, an act that the queen would secretly observe and suppress her laughter.
Startled by the bell's booming sound that day, the king asked, "Minister, what calamity has befallen our kingdom? Who rang the bell?"
The minister, equally astonished, suppressed his sigh. "I don't know. We haven’t been keeping up with the kingdom’s news. We've been in mourning for quite some time."
Before they could say more, a frail, almost ninety-year-old man, leaning on a cane, wearing thick glasses and a bare chest with only a dhoti, stood before the royal court. Squinting and looking around, he spoke in a raspy voice, "I can’t discern who is the king and who is the minister.""No need to discern. Just say what you have to," the minister replied.
The king interrupted the minister, asking, "Did you come alone? You can barely stand straight. How did you reach the bell?"
"You’ve hit the mark," the minister praised, realizing that despite his melancholy, the king’s intellect had not dulled.
The old man, laughing toothlessly, replied, "I live nearby and came with the help of others. When I saw the bell, I felt like ringing it. That fellow Nimai, the palace guard, lifted me up! He’s a strong young man; thanks to him, I could ring the bell. Once would have sufficed, but who knows if I’ll get another chance in this lifetime? So, I rang it thrice."
"So, do you have a complaint?" The king straightened up on his throne.
"Of course. Otherwise, who would come this far in this condition?" The old man shuffled closer to the throne.
"Then tell me," Nepalchandra sat up straight.
"I asked my beloved granddaughter-in-law to make some ghee-fried, syrup-soaked kheer malpua, but she refused. If I die with this unfulfilled desire, I might have to be reborn in this world. I don't want to be reborn, my dear. I want my malpua."
The old man spread his thin legs and sat down in front of the throne.
Seeing this, Nepalchandra exclaimed, "Why did you sit down like that?"
"If I stand for too long, my legs tremble. Resolve this matter, and I'll return home peacefully," the old man replied from his seated position.
"Your granddaughter-in-law has wronged you by not giving you malpua. Alright, let’s see what can be done. Now, you go home," the king said, and the minister called out, "Someone, escort him home."
At the minister’s call, Nimai immediately rushed in. Nimai’s father and grandfather had also served as guards of the palace. However, Nimai had many more roles: gatekeeper, stable hand, cowherd, servant, and sometimes even gardener. In short, he was a jack-of-all-trades! The queen was very fond of Nimai. He lived in a room within the palace.
"Nimai, take this gentleman home," ordered the minister.
Nimai nodded and gently helped the old man up, leading him out of the royal court. As they left, the minister turned to Nepalchandra, "It's a small matter, but we should handle it. Perhaps if we start addressing such complaints, the subjects will feel more connected and loyal to the kingdom."
Nepalchandra agreed, "Yes, this could be a way to engage more with our people. Let's see how we can make these small wishes come true."
Thus, the palace began to pay more attention to the small, heartfelt requests of its subjects, fostering a sense of closeness and goodwill throughout the kingdom.
He promptly lifted the old man effortlessly in his arms and carried him out. The king and the minister exchanged glances.
The minister was the first to break the silence, "Tonight, in disguise, I must go out secretly to verify the old man's claims."
"As the king of this land, I cannot just sit idly. I will go as well. An elderly subject shouldn't have to leave this world without fulfilling his simple wish of eating malpua! That would be unacceptable!" The king, lost in thought, muttered to himself, "Bogla, when was the last time I had malpua?"
"Already forgotten, have you? Nepla, your memory is fading! You should eat some Brahmi!"
The king snapped, "Again with this!"
"You mock me, but when it’s your turn, you forget everything! You just called me 'Bogla'! What about that?" The minister glared at the king.
"Alright, alright, fair enough.
"On the day your parents left for the hermitage, among other delicacies, there were fragrant malpuas fried in ghee. You ate at least fifty of them. You looked like a mahout, not a king back then!"
Nepalchandra glared again, "Minister, you have insulted me once more!"
"I was about to call you an elephant, but restrained myself! Anyway, let’s adjourn this meeting. After lunch, we need a good nap. Tonight’s adventure will ruin our sleep." The minister stood up, "I need to find our disguises."
As the king and minister went for their afternoon nap, Rupmati and Kalavati carefully inspected their husbands' disguises, mending any tears with needle and thread, and placing them in plain sight. Chief maid Malati and Nimai were summoned by the queen to organize the rest of the plan.
Night fell, and after dinner, the king and the minister donned their disguises and ventured out into the royal path.
Rupmati turned over in her sleep, and Kalavati closed her eyes on her own bed.
"If the old man's story is true, this must be the house," the minister said, standing in front of a neat clay house.
"The lights are on inside. Should we ask someone?" the king suggested.
"Do you see anyone on the street? Who would come out at this hour!" The minister advanced towards the light, the king following.
Peeking through an open window, they saw in the soft glow of a lantern an old man lying on a bed with a young woman massaging his feet. "Grandpa, if the king’s guards hear your complaint and lock me up, your grandson will leave for the hermitage in sorrow!"
The old man’s voice floated out, "Did I make a false complaint? Didn’t I ask you to make malpua? Did you?"
"Oh my! How could I disobey the doctor! I wouldn't dare! He strictly forbade unhealthy food. Just a few days ago, you were at death’s door! Everyone in the house was worried sick, and you’re thinking about malpua!" The young woman placed her hand on her head in exasperation, "Oh God! What do I do with this stubborn old grandpa!"
The old man chuckled, "Don’t worry so much. There are no guards or prisons here. And our king is a good man. His grandfather settled me here with land and property. We are fortunate to live under such noble kings. And the minister is a wise man. In the morning, take some fresh vegetables from the field to the queen. Now, get out of here!"
The young woman covered the old man with a blanket, adjusted the mosquito net, dimmed the lantern, and left the room.
The king looked at the minister, who said, "This is why we need to observe and listen in secret to ensure impartial judgment. Let’s move on a bit further."
They walked a little ahead and came upon a fisherman’s house. The courtyard was strewn with nets, reeking of fish. In the darkness, several pairs of eyes glowed from the fence.
"Ghosts! Oh, Bogla! Let’s return to the palace! Ram Ram, Ram Ram!" The king closed his eyes and clung to the minister in fear.
"Hey, let go quickly, those are just cat's eyes. They're waiting for fish, not us! You stay here; I'll take a quick peek to see if I can find out anything!"
"I can’t stay alone!" The king insisted on staying with the minister.
Suddenly, the door of the house opened, and a woman in a sari, carrying a hurricane lamp in one hand and a plate in the other, emerged and walked towards the fence. Her voice was heard, "Umani, Jhumoni, Chunni Munni, come here. Eat the fried fish and then leave. The master has caught a lot of fish today with the net and is snoring with exhaustion. I’m going to sleep now. I need to get up early. I've set aside some rohu and giant prawns in a water-filled earthen pot for the queen. I’ve heard our king loves dalna and prawn malai curry."
The cats responded to her call with meows.
The woman chatted with them, "Go on, get lost! Our king is so naïve, that’s why we are living so peacefully. There’s no tax collection, no personal comfort. He respects his parents so much! Like the king, so is the minister! The same tune and drum."
From inside the house, a groggy male voice was heard, "Oh dear, come to bed."
The woman did not stop. The king and minister, blending into the darkness against the wall, went unnoticed.
The minister heard the murmuring again and irritably said, "There’s no avoiding the whining now! Is there any other kingdom with such timid and fearful kings?"
The night was still, the streets were deserted, and nearby houses had doors wide open, ajar, or shut. In this kingdom, there are no thefts or robberies; people jump in to help each other in times of trouble. Those who visit the royal court do so for the king. The king and minister sit alone on the throne every day, and if no one else comes, it doesn't bother them! Sometimes the minister or queen invites the subjects.
"I can’t walk any further," the king said, panting.
"Recently, there's been a lack of morning walks, but the feasting continues! I’m getting out of shape. You’ll become a mahout again! Let’s sit on that stone for a bit." The minister walked towards a stone platform by the roadside.
As they sat down together, the king said, "What good subjects!"
“The previous kings and ministers were also good, and the subjects have continued that tradition through generations. Their ancestors received many benefits and were not ungrateful.” The minister felt a sense of self-satisfaction, recognizing that their own family had also served as ministers in the kingdom for generations, contributing to its governance.
Suddenly, Nimai appeared at a distance, thinking to himself, “Why are these two sitting here at this late hour? They must have some other motive! Well, I’ll just do my duty.” He approached them, pretending not to recognize them, and asked, “Hey, who are you? What are you doing sitting here in the middle of the night? Don’t you see the whole kingdom is asleep? There must be some sinister motive. Come on, let’s go to the king.”
The minister stood up and, in a distorted voice, said, “It’s just a house nearby; we were resting after a long walk. You go ahead, Nimai, and we’ll follow.”
The minister took the king’s hand and, with a quick step, moved towards the palace.
Nimai paused for a moment, scratching his head, and thought, “I’m not sure what to do now! Well, I’ll head back to the palace and sleep; I’ll have work to do from early morning!”
Changing out of their disguises into nightwear, the king and minister lay down and soon fell into a deep sleep.
The sun’s rays seemed to have burned the king’s skin, waking him as the sunlight streamed through the open window.
“How long has it been! Why hasn’t anyone called me? What is that pleasant smell in the air?”
“Queen! Where is Nimai?” the king called out as he left the bedroom.
“He’s sleeping!”
“Still!”
“He was stumbling around and heading to the garden; I stopped him. At his age, how much can he handle on his own? Besides, the subjects brought vegetables and fish early this morning, so I told him to sleep a bit longer since there was no need to go to the market! He manages the cattle, the house, and the garden all by himself! If needed, he’ll even patrol at night—!” Rupmati had contacted Nimai about the old man and was about to slip up but quickly changed the topic, “The minister has also been waiting for a long time after his morning walk and breakfast.”
“I can smell the aroma of familiar food in the air.”
“They are frying malpua.” Rupmati observed the king’s expression.
“Malpua! I could tell by the smell! But why this sudden kindness?”
The king was filled with joy and curiosity.
“For distribution among the subjects, they bring these things every day and repair the palace as well. I always thought it was the king who took care of the subjects, but here the subjects take care of the king! So, occasionally, we must consider their needs too! Everyone loves my handmade kheer malpua! I’ve kept two pieces aside for you!” The queen handed the king a towel and added, “The minister has been waiting for a long time!”
“Fried malpua! And just two pieces!” The king did not hide his disappointment.
“The minister’s orders—eating more could upset your health,” the queen whispered as she approached, “I’ve saved some more for later, and I’ll give them to you when the time comes.”
After a long time, the king looked at the queen with admiration and said, “Bless you, Rupmati.” Singing softly, the king entered the bathhouse.
After eating the malpua provided by the queen and savouring the taste, the king informed the minister, “There will be an urgent meeting this evening. You and your wife must attend.”
“An urgent meeting! About what? Just tell me now!” The minister bit into the malpua comfortably.
“Malati should call Sai here.” Rupamati instructed the cook, and Kalavati soon arrived. Following Rupamati’s instructions, Malati set a wooden stool for Kalavati and placed a few pieces of malpua on a brass platter.
The king stared longingly at the platter.
Seeing this, the minister cleared his throat and asked, “What’s the matter with the urgent meeting?”
The king sat there absentmindedly. Looking at the minister and Sai, the queen stood up and handed the king two pieces of malpua on a small brass plate, saying, "How can we have an urgent discussion while you’re just sitting here?"
At this, the king’s face lit up with a smile. Biting into the malpua, he said, "What if we arrange to feed the subjects in the palace once a month?"The queen, with enthusiasm, responded, "That would be wonderful. It is indeed a virtuous act."
The minister, having finished eating the malpua and drinking water, set down his glass slowly and said, "But remember, the royal treasury has been empty for many years. It will only be virtuous if we keep that in mind."
Kalavati chimed in, "We, the ladies of the inner palace, have managed the household so far. I’m sure we will find a way this time as well."
"But how? Where will the money come from?" The minister was astonished by his wife’s words.
"Let’s visit the treasury," Rupmati suggested. The other three followed her as she retrieved the specific key from a bunch of keys tied to her sari and opened the lock to enter the room. Inside, they saw various sizes of clay jars scattered on the floor.
"What is all this?" The king was astonished.
The minister smiled, "The treasury!"
In the room, two elegantly decorated swings were hanging on either side for seating. The king and minister sat on one, while Rupmati and Kalavati took the other.Looking at the minister, the queen said with a smile, "Our predecessors also saved money in this manner, just as they did."
"But where did the money come from? Taxes are not collected," the king asked.
"The subjects bring us grains, vegetables, and fish, and often there’s a surplus. Additionally, with regular fertilizer and water, the garden produces a lot of fruits and vegetables. Also, crops in the fields yield more than needed, so farmers regularly sell most of it and give me the money. That’s how this accumulation of wealth happens," the queen explained in detail.
"Farmers manage the fields, but what about the garden? Do you also take the produce to the markets to sell?" The king’s curiosity was piqued.
Rupmati pretended to be sorrowful, "I’d love to, but being a queen comes with its own burdens, just like being a king."
The minister asked, "Then what do you do?"
"Why do we have Jasmine, Malati, Champa, Nimai, and Nitai? They handle these tasks," the minister’s wife answered.
"Oh, so you’ve enlisted everyone from the inner palace!" The king was reassured.
Rupmati then spoke, "We are also two wives, just like you. You’ve always indulged in feasts and travels without thinking about the household or the kingdom. Now, you’re idly spending time in unnecessary gloom. We must at least think about these things; otherwise, who will care for the subjects?"
Kalavati put her hand on Rupmati’s, "Our predecessors taught us a lot with love, and this is the result."
"The wife is absolutely right, and that’s why we can’t dishonour the responsibility they entrusted to us!" The queen said proudly.
The king and minister both felt embarrassed.
"Then we shall announce this news across the entire kingdom tomorrow itself." The king said with a smile.
"There's no need to mention it! Delaying a good deed is not right. Nimai hasn’t beaten the drum for a long time; he’ll happily announce this news among the subjects," the minister assured. "I’ll inform him right away."
The king looked at the minister and said, "He needs to arrange for the medicine from the royal physician for that old man; he is the one behind all this."
Rupmati, while tying the bunch of keys to her sari, said, "The old man's granddaughter-in-law often brings vegetables from their field and gives them. This plan has been made with her knowledge. The old man came to the court fully aware, and his health is fine."
"Meaning!" Both the king and minister looked at Rupmati in surprise.
"To make you understand, we had to resort to this little deception," Rupmati said, tying up the keys and standing up. Kalavati followed the queen.
Before leaving the room, the queen turned back and said, "The menu for the monthly meals will be decided through discussion," then looking at the king, added, "But there will definitely be malpua every time."
Smiles appeared on all four faces.
"Remember, the king’s share is only two pieces, don’t forget!" the minister said with a grin.
Rupmati and Kalavati left the room with smiles.
Since then, arrangements for the monthly bi-prandial meals were made.
The king, however, secretly enjoyed many pieces of malpua.