Imagine standing in front of your king with a bow and arrow, proving to him you are worthy enough to be his vice. You take your stance and aim the feathered bow, releasing the arrow to the magnificent peacock feather before you. Nothing happens and the room is full of hoarse laughter like a bird mocking you. You smirk. They’re all wrong. As the laughter dies down the peacock feather bifurcates like a snapped twig.

What you are doing is putting your mind in place of Shrimant Bajirao I, the king’s best chancellor and warfare commander.

Sitting in his tent one day, Bajirao was plotting where he and his army would attack when he heard a muffle outside. He stood up, curious about the sound when he saw his guards fly back in the air as though they were helpless birds. He craned his neck at the guards as a warrior with a mask over their face come barging in, taking everyone of his soldiers down, one by one. He quickly stopped the warrior with his arm, making them topple down. Due to the topple the mask escaped the warrior’s face and a spool of dark brown hair hit the soil beneath. Bajirao then saw that the warrior was a woman. The woman stood up and bowed in front of him asking him for help since a competing anarchy was declaring war on her home empire.

So let’s talk about this. As an intelligent man, Bajirao could take this as an opportunity. If he helped the warrior he would get an opportunity of help from them in return, whereas if he left them to suffer he would have one less Mughal empire to defeat and defeating Mughal empires was his whole goal. Bajirao though decided to help the woman and later learned that her name was Mastani. The king’s very own daughter. Mastani was a very brave woman. Even during the war they fought together she stepped in and risked her life for him, taking a hit that was meant to be his. Bajirao was amazed by the risk she had taken for him. He had quickly jumped upon the king’s elephant and swung his belt like sword in the direction of his neck. He fell off the elephant and lay there on the soil not moving. The other men ran and retreated. The war was over and they had won. Bajirao then hurried back to Mastani, draped her body on top of his, hopped onto his horse and rode off towards the palace, hoping her time was not over yet.

-to be continued-