Gora Rani

Please do watch the vdeo I've hyperlinked to both the text word Rani and Gora Rani so that the characters may spring to life.


The stories of kings and queens have never failed to allure the curious minded. What follows is a tale of love, recounted by those faithful to the Rani. A tale, to be told and retold. Its narration, never to cease. May it be made known to those who dwell in the sky, the earth, the netherworld and the re-incarnate.

The night was indeed auspicious as the pundit had predicted. Chandra, in all his glory was drifting across the night sky, the clouds parting upon hearing the sound of his advancing steed. The twenty seven Nakshatras twinkled above us in all their finery. This was indeed a night to celebrate. Musicians strummed away at their sitars and songs were sung from honey mouthed nightingales brought from various parts of the country. The whole palace was decorated in shades of ruby and gold in honor of the celebration.

Hearing the clinking of bangles and seeing shadows dance across the hall I followed it hoping it wasn’t a demon that had chanced upon this auspicious occasion. But as I neared, all I could hear were her delicate laugh and the sound of her payals tinkling in delight. The diyas on the wall only added to the beauty, that she’d already been. Twirling around, she showed her gown to the others. She was dressed as an English memsaab would on her wedding day. When our eyes met I realized that our Gora Rani had indeed been sent from above. Her blue eyes, shining brighter, in contrast, to her, pale skin….

Here I am rambling about the Rani without having given you a formal introduction about her. As I have mentioned before she was indeed a gift sent from above. Wrapped in warm clothing, she came to us floating in a basket woven out of reeds. The Maharani, who happened to be on her stroll across the palace grounds noticed the mysterious object floating upon the Lake Pichola, summoned her servants who fished it out and revealed to the Maharani, that it was in fact a baby and not just any ordinary baby but that of an Angrezi. This obviously had come as a shock to her but as she lifted the little angel in her arms, she found two big blue eyes like pools staring at her. Now the Maharani had been barren for a great many years and yearned for a seed to continue their legacy. She pleaded with her husband who refused to even consider the idea for who knew what the Angrez would do upon finding that we possessed one of their kind. But the Maharaja loved his wife dearly and to upset her was far worse than not having any children. He at last caved in to the Maharani’s adamancy but insisted that the baby be kept under total secrecy and not a word is to leave the Palace walls about the origins of their newly adopted daughter, whom they christened Sunayna, one with beautiful eyes.

Now the Maharani didn’t leave any page unturned in the lessons of spoiling her daughter but Sunayna grew into a beautiful girl, with her skin ever so pale, we often wondered, along with the royal physician, if she had any blood in her. She was trained in the various arts. She could sing beautifully and played the sitar ever so delightfully, I could sit hours listening to her. She was even trained by her father, the Maharana in the field of swords and archery, in case the need ever arose for her to defend her self. The years passed by quickly and the Gora Rani, a nickname she had heard some kids on the street call her, was now a woman. Upon hearing this the Kings of various kingdoms had arrived hoping for the hand of our Rani but she didn’t seem to like any as they were all interested in producing lines of Gora people with blue eyes instead of providing her with the one thing she longed for, love. One day, as the Rani was walking across the grounds, she noticed a man, mostly a prince, because of the way his horse was decorated, who had stopped for a drink of water from the lake. As he raised his hand to drink, he noticed her staring at him and you can imagine what a sight it would have been to see a pale blue eyed girl in the middle of a land surrounded by black eyes and brown skin. After that day the Rani made it a point to linger around the grounds in hope to see her prince again. And as sure as the sun rose in the east he did come, day after day to chance upon the Rani waiting for him.

The princess confided in me, that perhaps she was in love. Her nights having been spent on his thought. A smile lit her face, whenever she pictured his face. Holding my hand now we hurry down the stairs where she stands there waiting for her prince, who has come from afar. As he neared her, he raised her veil and like a gentle breeze she caressed his cheek with her own and gently slipped away. Her scent, lingering in the hallway. And thus concludes my story of Sunayna, the Gora Rani.