The Makopura Mansion

On Dark Night — Jay Vardhan Singh stood in front of his Majestic new home.

It wasn’t his typical home. He lived as a commoner in the CITY of Mumbai.

But Makopura was a place far flung from city — it was a Royal Thikana.

In the east of Rajasthan, just a few KM away from the Indo-Pakistan Border, surrounded by majestic palaces and a history that’s older than, well, pretty much everything.

Every home looked like a Haveli except there’s no light. How could anyone not tempt to turn this city into a heritage hotel industry, Jay thought.

Jay Vardhan, or Jay for short, is the only heir of King Bhanu Pratap Singh. This guy was the king of Makopura, a place so exclusive, you wouldn’t even find it on your fanciest travel apps. But here’s the kicker — the Indian Government decided it was time to call it quits on these princely states. And that, stung like a bee.

King Bhanu Pratap, he was a man who loved his kingdom, and he loved his people. He couldn’t bear to see it all crumble, so he packed his bags and moved to the big, bustling city.

His queen Bibi Amar Kaur, a Sikh Princess from Himachal Pradesh, tagged along, and so did the entire women’s quarters (Janana) of the palace, which is, you know, a bad move — financially. It took only a few years to spend his entire money on lavish lifestyle.

The king and his queen, they were deeply in love, but they had one problem — their only child was a transgender - Jind Kanwar & she couldn’t speak a word.

So, King Bhanu Pratap decided he needed an heir, a boy, to carry on the royal legacy.

He went ahead and did something that would make any royal drama worth its popcorn.

With the queen’s reluctant approval, he took a slave girl who was just fourteen, mind you — he didn’t marry her that was a condition queen asked him. They chose this 14 years old girl named Manya who was even younger than their own daughter. Queen saw very little competition as she was petite & hardly resisted. But the tables turned as King fell madly in love with Manya. It was an odd sight to see a 14 year old slave girl sitting in lap of the aging king all the time.

When the queen spoke against it she & princess Jind Kanwar were sent offshores to London with King’s younger brother Rai Vardhan in name of treatment of the princess.

Now that the king had her little muse, he did the obvious & finally they had a son, and that’s our guy, Jay Vardhan Singh.

Jay, even though he was not the traditional heir, he got all the respect and the royal treatment you’d expect.

JAY’s POV

So there I was, standing in front of this mansion, and guess what? No keys!

I mean, talk about bad timing. My old man, King Bhanu Pratap Singh had gifted me this place with a pretty unusual request: “Don’t go blabbing to everyone in the village that you’re a, well, a bastard.”

Now, to keep the family honor intact, I was supposed to spin this story about being the son of the queen, born years after my transgender sister Jind Kanwar.

Believe me, the villagers here don’t take kindly to any other narrative. They respected Jind for being born within the wedlock. But if I were to disclose the reality, chaos would surely ensue.

To make matters worse, my father had a bit of a sketchy reputation, and the last thing I wanted was to add another layer of tarnish to it.

There I stood, no keys, and it’s way past 2 AM.

Over the years, plenty of folks tried to buy this mansion from my father. I mean, they offered some serious cash in front of his face, but he said, “No way.” This place was for the rightful heir.

I’m contemplating my life choices when out of nowhere, this old-hag with white rajasthani dress & pagdi pops up and asks: “Aapro naam, hukum?”

“Jay,” I say, keeping it short.

But, of course, he wants the whole name: “Jay Vardhan.” That’s when it hits him like a bolt of lightning.

The man recognizes me! Apparently, I’m the talk of the town.

With a respectful bow down, he insists on helping me with my bags and, in doing so, spills the beans about my family’s legendary status in the village.

My father, he’s still the king in their eyes, even though he’s long gone.

The Enchanted Mansion:

[The old man takes Jay Vardhan’s luggage and leads him towards a chabutara — an old temple of ancestors.]

Old Man: (motioning towards the chabutara) This is where your ancestors are worshipped. Pay your respects to your ancestors. They’ve been waiting for you.

[Jay Vardhan approaches the chabutara and offers a silent prayer.]

[As they walk away from the chabutara, the old man starts a conversation.]

Old Man: (curious)Hukum, What brings you back to this old village?

Jay Vardhan: (pauses) I inherited the mansion, and I wanted to see it for myself. But I have a lot of questions, especially about my family.

Old Man: (understanding) Ah, yes. Jind Kanwar, your sister, she had her share of misfortune, it’s natural to have questions.

Jay Vardhan: (concerned) Misfortune? What happened to her?

Old Man: (suspicious) It’s a long story, hukum. Your uncle Rai Vardhan would be the one to tell you about it. He comes to the village every two years for a ceremony at this chabutara, paying his respects to the family.

It’s made of sandstone. You see the giant door which has spears on its fronts to protect the attack if made any.

Upon entering the gate you see two rooms either side for clerks & guards as one enters both sides the giant gate.

The big courtyard has a cemented floor now but the big Peepal & Banyan trees still bear witness to its raw & natural past.

Under the sprawling canopies of trees, there is an old Jonga jeep with vintage style steering & gearbox. Jay mentally notes to take a ride on it someday.

An elderly man struggles to restore electricity, finally brings a small bulb to life within the mansion.

Jay sees his own mansion for the first time with eyes open wide. It has another big gate with iron clad elephants both side.

He could see the lower floor. But the light barely reaches the upper floor, leaving the second floor in a dainty obscurity.

With a respectful nod, the old man departs, leaving Jay to explore the dusty, antiquated rooms. Jay lights his phone torch & finds one door adjacent as he touches the door it opened on its own with a creaking sound. Old gates.

Exhausted from his journey, he has no strength to think about any possibility. Instead, he ventures inside, uncovers a bed from its dusty shroud, and succumbs to sleep without thinking about spiders or dust. He falls asleep.

The Morning

Word of Jay’s arrival had spread like wildfire through the village. The townsfolk gathered at a distance, their whispers laden with intrigue. Farmers left their plows, merchants closed their shops, and children abandoned their games to catch a glimpse of the new owner. The mansion, shrouded in mystery for years, now drew everyone’s attention.

Among the curious onlookers, two distinct groups began to form. One group consisted of residents offering to buy the mansion at a suspiciously low price, their eyes gleaming with a strange hunger for the estate. They approached Jay with sly smiles, their words honeyed with persuasion.

VILLAGER 1: (smirking) Hukum, you see, this mansion is in need of repairs. We’d be willing to take it off your hands for a generous sum.

Jay, though bewildered, sensed something amiss about their proposition.

JAY: (guarded) I appreciate your interest, but I’m not planning to sell.

The other group of villagers was equally desperate, but their concern was different. They were interested in why the long-lost heir of the mansion had finally returned, and what it meant for the village.

VILLAGER 2: (anxiously) Hukum, we’ve waited for generations for the return of the king. Can you tell us when will the King come back?

JAY: (puzzled) I have no idea.

As the sun tipped the sky, Jay’s curiosity got the better of him. He decided to explore the property further.

(To be continued…)