The Maharaja appeared at Jantar Mantar, exactly where he had stood nearly three centuries ago. He adjusted his turban, admired the giant astronomical instruments, and smiled.
Maharaja: Ah! My observatory. Three hundred years later. Generations of scholars must have refined my calculations. Perhaps they have even discovered new constellations.
A loudspeaker suddenly crackled.
“Mic testing… One, two… Bharat Mata ki…”
A hundred voices thundered,
“…Jai!”
The Maharaja jumped. He looked around. There were banners. Placards. Television vans. Police barricades. Portable toilets. News anchors being shouted at. YouTubers interviewing protestors. Someone was livestreaming. Someone else was giving interviews to five microphones simultaneously. Even the tea vendor seemed to have become an expert on constitutional law.
The Maharaja rubbed his eyes.
Maharaja: Why are the astronomers and mathematicians screaming?
Maharaja’s Minister: Your Majesty, they are not astronomers. They are journalists and protestors.
Maharaja: Are they here for some rare celestial event?
The crowd roared,
“Hum kya maangte? Nyay!”
Maharaja: What are they saying?
Maharaja’s Minister: They are demanding justice.
Maharaja: I know Hindi. You don’t have to translate. I built an observatory, not a court.
Maharaja’s Minister: Forgive me, Maharaj. People gather here from all over the country, sometimes even from abroad, to voice their grievances.
The Maharaja looked puzzled.
Maharaja: I spent years calculating the movements of Saturn, and now people calculate the arrival of television cameras?
Just then, a protestor climbed onto a chair and began singing,
“Sab taaj uchhale jayenge,
Sab takht giraye jayenge…”
The Maharaja instinctively clutched his crown.
Maharaja: Why are they threatening my taaj? It has survived for centuries.
Maharaja’s Minister: They are singing a revolutionary poem, Maharaj. Nobody is referring to your personal crown.
A television reporter rushed towards him with a microphone.
Reporter: Sir! How do you react to today’s protests?
Maharaja: I have just arrived.
Reporter: Excellent. A fresh perspective. Could you please condemn or support someone before we go live?
The Maharaja quietly stepped aside.
He looked at the placards.
Maharaja: Why are these people carrying banners?
Maharaja’s Minister: Those are placards, Maharaj.
Maharaja: Ah! A new kind of star chart?
Maharaja’s Minister: No. They contain demands.
Maharaja: Demands? From celestial beings?
Maharaja’s Minister: No, Maharaj. From the Government.
The Maharaja frowned.
Maharaja: Governments now receive petitions written on cardboard?
Maharaja’s Minister: Not exactly. Placards look better in reels. It is all about visual optics.
Just then someone in the crowd shouted,
“Ab purane actoron se kaam nahin chal raha kya, jo naye actor bula liye hain?”
The Maharaja looked deeply offended.
Maharaja: Did he just call me an actor? I built observatories in Delhi, Jaipur, Ujjain, Varanasi and Mathura. Do actors study trigonometry these days?
Nearby, a young influencer adjusted his phone.
Influencer: Guys, this protest has such aesthetic vibes. Please like, share and subscribe.
Maharaja: Is he also demanding justice?
Maharaja’s Minister: No, Maharaj. He is demanding followers.
The Maharaja looked towards the towering Samrat Yantra.
Maharaja: At least my sundial is still respected.
A child interrupted.
Child: Uncle, could you move a little?
You are blocking my selfie.
The Maharaja sighed. Three centuries ago people came here to look upwards and measure the distances to stars. Today they hold their phones upwards and measure themselves.
Just then, an elderly government employee emerged from behind a barricade carrying a thick file. He looked exhausted. The moment he spotted the Maharaja, his face lit up.
At last, someone to blame.
Government Employee: Ah! So you are Sawai Jai Singh. Excellent. I have been looking for you.
Maharaja: For me? Why?
Government Employee: This entire situation is your fault.
Maharaja: Mine?
Government Employee: Absolutely. Why did you build Jantar Mantar in the middle of Delhi? Had you constructed it fifty kilometres away in a forest, nobody would have protested here. The police would have had peaceful mornings. Traffic would have flowed. Barricades would not have been needed. My transfer application might have been approved. My promotion would probably have come through by now.
The Maharaja stared at him in disbelief.
Maharaja: I merely built an observatory.
Government Employee: Exactly! No observatory. No open space. No open space. No protest site. No protest site. No dissent. Simple geometry.
Maharaja’s Minister: I believe he has confused geometry with governance.
The government employee continued.
Government Employee: History will remember that the greatest contribution to public inconvenience was not made by protestors. It was made by one overenthusiastic king who accidentally created the country’s most famous address for disagreement.
The Maharaja quietly looked at the giant instruments he had built to measure the movement of the stars. Then he looked at the restless crowd measuring the patience of governments. After a long pause, he smiled.
Maharaja: Fascinating. Never ending questions. Three hundred years ago people came here to question the heavens. Today they come here to question power. A fascinating journey from being subjects to citizens of a Republic.
Photos and text by Prerna Jain.
