Glimpses of the Untold History of the Indian Freedom Struggle - Part 22

During their eleven-day journey, Motibai grew deeply connected with Narmadabai, Bhaskar Bhatt, and Subhadrabai.  This was because these three already knew something about many of the events Motibai had personally witnessed and carried out, and they were eager to learn more. As a result, the four of them remained engaged in constant conversation.

However, all four of them were traveling in disguise as elderly individuals, seated in a bullock cart. Before sunrise each day, they would go to a riverbank or lakeside to complete their morning routines and bathe. This precaution was necessary because, even as they left the village, a team of Company government police had arrived there to conduct inquiries. Their task was to identify and capture every Indian connected with Rani Lakshmibai and hang them.

All those who had fought in Rani Lakshmibai’s army from the village had deliberately joined this group, dressed as Marathi people from Bundelkhand.

After catching sight of the pinnacle of the Kashi Vishwanath temple, the group proceeded to the ghats of the Ganga. After completing their bath and other chores, they sat under the shade of a tree near the riverbank. Bhaskar Bhatt sought the assistance of a Brahmin priest in Kashi. This priest was very clever and also greedy. Bhaskar Bhatt had chosen him precisely because of his greed, while also ensuring that he had no wealth of his own. With the generous payment already given to him, the priest was willing to help them in any way they required.

Their group needed to perform the immersion of the ashes according to proper rituals and leave Kashi as quickly as possible. This was because the British had already received information that Rani Lakshmibai had passed through Kashi (Ref: Kathamanjiri 4-3-14), and police under the command of a British officer had stationed themselves there for investigation.

By eleven in the morning, the ashes of Kashibai, Sundarbai, Lalabhau Bakshi, and Manjunath Pahadi were immersed. After that, Bhaskar Bhatt himself performed the immersion of the ashes of his uncle, Moropant. The group then returned to the same tree. The priest brought their midday meal.

Everyone in the group sat silently under the tree without uttering a word. Memories flooded each of their minds. However, recognizing that such behavior might arouse suspicion, the ever-alert Motibaiimmediately instructed everyone to compose themselves and behave like ordinary pilgrims. Four men from the village had also shaved their heads, and there was considerable crowd at the ghats, so the risk of being identified seemed low. Nevertheless, Motibai insisted on utmost caution.

Before evening, the entire group departed on their return journey. Only Motibai remained behind, disguised as an elderly Brahmin widow named Chimabai Acharya, carrying a small bundle of belongings.

Two hours after the group had left, at sunset, Motibai began to cry aloud deliberately. A crowd of onlookers gathered around her, including the same priest from the morning. She asked him, “Where have all my relatives gone? Have they abandoned me? They gave me sweets as prasad to eat, and I fell asleep. After waking up, I have been searching for them for two hours.”

Such incidents were not uncommon in Kashi. Many people would abandon their elderly relatives there to die. The priest, who had already been paid well by Bhaskar Bhatt, told everyone confidently, “This old woman is very troublesome. Her son and daughter-in-law themselves told me so. The entire family was tired of her. They have given me money to take care of her. She is my distant relative, so I will arrange for her food and shelter on my verandah.”

Feigning helplessness, Motibai carried her bundle on her head and sat on the priest’s verandah, from where one of the ghats of the Ganga was clearly visible.

Late at night, when everything had fallen silent, Motibai quietly set out with a stick in one hand, her bundle in the other, and a cloth bag slung over her shoulder. She walked to the opposite ghat, where there was not a single person present.

In her bundle were the ashes of Rani Lakshmibai, along with the blood-stained turban of the queen. The most important and sensitive item was Rani Lakshmibai’s sword.

It was essential that the ashes, the blood-stained turban, and the sword be immersed in the Ganga without even the slightest touch from the British, in accordance with Rani Lakshmibai’s own wish.

While the queen had only insisted that the British must not touch these sacred items, Motibai was determined to immerse them in the holy waters of the Ganga with her own hands. Rani Lakshmibai regarded her as a real sister and had complete trust in every word she spoke. Thus, performing this final act herself had become Motibai’s greatest and only wish.

Immersing the sword during the day was impossible, as it would surely fall into British hands. That is why Motibai chose the hour of midnight.

As she descended each step of the ghat, carrying the ashes, sword, and turban, memories of the queen surfaced one after another. Yet, these memories brought her no sorrow that day. Instead, with every step she descended, feelings of joy, pride, and sacredness grew stronger within her.

Reaching the final step, Motibai first immersed the ashes. Then she immersed the turban. Finally, holding the sword in both hands, she touched it to her forehead and began chanting Rani Lakshmibai’s most beloved mantra: “Om Namo BhagavateVasudevaya.” She intended to complete 108 repetitions before offering the sword to the river.

However, as the chant reached around eighty repetitions, a British police officer, accompanied by an armed unit, rushed toward her. One of the Indian policemen had seen her descending the ghat and had recognized her.

Motibai was not in the disguise of an elderly widow at that moment; she was dressed in the military attire of Jhansi. She could not accept performing this sacred act in secrecy.

A fierce struggle began between Motibai and the armed soldiers. Holding Rani Lakshmibai’s sword in her left hand, she fought with her own sword in her right hand, continuing her chant even as she battled.

The moment she completed the 108th repetition, she offered the sword to the Ganga.

In the very next moment, the warrior Motibai, clad in military attire, was struck by a British bullet and fell into the river. Moving away from everything and everyone, she took her final breath in the waters of the Ganga.

The joy and fulfillment visible on her face in that moment areunmatched in history.

(The story continues.....)