"So does no one have the courage to pick up the beeda?" The queen mother looked derisively at the assembled lords. The sturdy sirdars hung their heads in shame. The betel leaf lay untouched in the plate at the centre, the intact silver warq mocking the assembly. "Maybe we should add some more rooms to the janaan-khaana, so these sirdaars can have a place to stay', she spat into the spitoon.
"Hukm!", a voice boomed from the back. The great Khan strode in his seven foot frame to the centre of the darbar and picked up the beeda. "Hum pakad layenge Sivaji ko!", he thundered.
---
The swami was sleepless. His spy had just come in with the news that the great Khan had picked up the gauntlet. The Swami knew anyone leaving the fortified Adilshahi capital would be followed. He knew the news wouldn’t reach Raigad till the Khan reached the border town of Wai. And then it might be too late.
It was in the wee hours of the morning that a kirtan-kar came to seek the swami. He would lead a dindi all the way to Alandi. The pilgrims would walk for seven days, singing and dancing in the name of an 11th century saint. They sought swami's blessings in the morning prayers. The swami had an inspirational owee for them.
---
Maharaj sought the blessings of the pilgrims assembled at the temple. 'Let the words of the wise bring light', his mother used to say. A kirtan-kar from Bijapur, his nasal singsong tone amply betraying his brahmin origins, started the kirtan.
"Vivek karava karya sadhuna,
jaanaar nartanu he jaNona,
pudheel bhavishyaarthi mana,
rahatochi naye.
Chalu naye asanmaargee,
satyata baanalya angi,
raghuveerkrupa te prasangi,
daasa-mahatmya vaadhavi.
Rajaninath aani dinkar,
nitya karati sanchara,
ghalitaati yera-saara,
laavile bhramana jagadeeshe.
Aadimaya mool bhavani,
hee sakala brahmandachi swamini,
yekanti viveka karoni,
ishta yojana karavi."
---
Maharaj smiled, declared a generous donation to the temple and excusing himself from the rest of the ceremony, rode back to Raigad.
