Deserted dry land
Bodering the princely state
There once lived
A king unconquered till date

Never did he surrendered his will
The glance at the beauty clear as milk
Diamond eyes and smile as fresh as spring
Heart slipped wrapped up in royal silk

pincess Hadi, greeted his love
Together bonded forever in bliss until,the bells of danger started to ring
And it was time for a good bye kiss

Duty or love he had to weigh
Said to her, he might rather stay
Bold Queen Radi had rajput blood
Convinced her husband to serve nation first
Reluctant he, agreed to the terms
Asking for a love token to take
Radi the queen surprised him when
Served him, her beheaded head
So that nothing could come between him and the nation at stake


Manisha

The Royal lady's eyes behold.
The scene that is about to unfold.
The procession just outside Hawa Mahal.

She looks from one of he 953 windows.
The red and pink sand stone of the Mahal,
She feels from her toes.

She is Rajput by heart.
And inwardly thanks Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh for this intricate piece of Art.

Constructed in 1799.
From it's windown,
The breeze flows;fresh and beingh.

Out there there are all kinds of people
Old. Young. Fancy. Simple.
They radiate happiness.
Mounted on elephants or barefoot,feeling blessed.

She smiles to herself.
And closes the Jharokha and feels excited as now,
To her friends,she has a story to tell.

O Bani Thani
I grow thin, wanting you;
O you of the drooping eyes and long neck
O Bani Thani, O sublime poetess and singer
who walks gracefully through the halls of  Kishangarh
I hear
you are in my stepmother’s service;
and the songs you sing
though they are most sublime
they lure me into unholy thoughts, O Bani Thani
as do your drooping eyes, your lips curved into a smile
You walk head high always, they say
and you look directly ahead even when I am nigh
and yet that too invites me to wander over the landscape of your face
your drooping eyes, your drooping eyes
the eyebrow like a bow, the bow of Rajput warriors
whose arrows  pierce with vigour
the elongated face, O Bani Thani
your elongated face and nose and curls of hair
that flow to your waist
and that visage and seduction all graced in muslin odhni
O Bani Thani
I hear your voice, I hear your songs
and your poems are recited here by the men even in the streets –
O but do you hear mine, do you hear my poems of
love, lust and thoughts unholy?
O do you hear my poems of pain and longing? –
all arising, all arising, O Bani Thani
everything in my manhood aroused
as I see you walk by, as I hear you sing
as I hear you play on your instruments
O Bani Thani, Bani Thani –
sing to me, sing to me:
*What is my end, what is my fate
in this my love and longing for you?