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MidReal Story
Royal Hearts in Colonial Chaos
Anonymous
May 17
Scenario:Princess and political agent at manipur
Create my version of this story
Arjun Mehta
British Indian political agent, romantically involved with Leima, tall with sharp features, pragmatic yet compassionate.
Leima
princess of Manipur, romantically involved with the political agent, elegant with traditional attire, intelligent and fiercely loyal.
Sana
Leima's confidante and cousin, supports Leima in her decisions, petite with bright eyes, spirited and protective.
The first time I met Arjun Mehta, I was a princess and he was a British Indian political agent.
I was wearing a traditional Manipuri attire, and he was in a suit.
I was sipping on my glass of wine, and he was drinking water.
I was there to make small talk with the British officers, and he was there to keep an eye on me.
I had no idea who he was or what his job entailed, but I knew that I wanted to talk to him.
He had sharp features and a tall frame that made him stand out in the crowd of British officers.
He looked bored as he stood in the corner of the room, watching everyone with a keen eye.
He looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here, and I couldn’t blame him.
The British officers were here to celebrate their victory over us, the people of Manipur.
They were here to make sure that we knew our place as their subjects.
I, Leima, knew that this event was supposed to be a celebration of the new political order that the British had established in Manipur.
But I couldn’t help feeling like something terrible was about to happen.
I had no idea that within two years of this event, my parents would be captured, my father would be killed, and my mother would be exiled.
I had no idea that I would become an orphan at the age of twenty-one.
My younger siblings were still in school at the time, and I had to take on the responsibility of feeding them and making sure that they stayed in school.
I had no idea that I would have to do things that I never thought were possible to survive and keep my family together.
I had no idea that I would lose everything that I held dear, and I would have to start over from scratch.
If I had known what lay ahead, I would have turned around and walked away that day.
But I didn’t know, so I stayed.
My sister Khuman was by my side, and I was thankful for her company.
She was only seventeen years old at the time, and she was still in school.
But she knew that I needed her, and she was always there for me.
We were both dressed in traditional Meitei deels, but mine was pink while hers was green.
The traditional deel was a simple dress with a scarf wrapped around the waist, but it was made of beautiful fabric with intricate designs.
I had always loved wearing it, and it made me feel elegant and regal.
I sipped on my glass of wine and tried to ignore the British officer who was talking to me.
I couldn’t remember his name, but he was one of the lower-ranking officers who had been sent here a few months ago.
He was young and handsome with curly blond hair, but he seemed to think highly of himself.
I suppose he had reason to be proud, given the circumstances.
He wasn’t the only one who thought highly of himself.
All the British officers were like that, and they never missed an opportunity to remind us that they were better than us.
All of them except for Arjun Mehta.
He never tried to make us feel inferior or look down on us for being who we were.
I didn’t know him very well, but there was something about him that made me want to get to know him better.
At that moment, he was standing near the entrance to the hall, talking to another officer who had arrived from Calcutta three days ago.
He stood out in his suit with clean lines and sharp angles that perfectly complemented his tall frame.
He looked like a man who knew what he wanted and wouldn’t let anyone or anything stand in his way.
He looked like a man who could take on the world and come out on top.
As I looked at him, I felt a mix of boredom and anxiety.
I had been to so many diplomatic events like this one, and I knew exactly how it would go.
My mother, the queen, usually loved these events, but she had a headache today and decided to stay in her private chambers.
I envied her freedom to do what she wanted, while I had to be here, making small talk with the very men who had changed the course of my life and the lives of everyone I knew.
My father had been a proud king who refused to bow down to the British when they first arrived in Manipur.
He saw them as foreigners who had no right to tell us what to do.
When they sent their army to attack us, he declared war on them.
We fought bravely, but we were outnumbered and outgunned.
Many of our men died, and the rest were taken prisoner.
My father refused to surrender and kept fighting until they captured him.
They brought him here and made him sign a treaty that said we would become a British protectorate.
He signed it, but he refused to collaborate with the British, so they sent soldiers to drag him to jail and put handcuffs on his hands and feet.
He managed to escape a few months later, but they caught him in the jungle and shot him dead.
After that, they sent more soldiers to our palace and forced my mother to sign a treaty that said we would become part of British India.
It was the local cronies who made the British officers look good in my eyes, and that was saying something.
They were the ones who had sold their souls to the British after the annexation, and they were the reason my family was in ruins.
The British officers were here to maintain order, and they did a good job of it.
But they were also here to make sure that we knew our place, and I wasn’t about to forget that.
This event was supposed to be a celebration of their victory over us, and I was expected to mingle with them.
It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last time.
But that didn’t mean I had to like it.
I took another sip of my wine and tried to focus on what the blond officer was saying.
He was asking me if I wanted to dance, and I was trying to find an excuse to say no when I saw him walking towards me.
He was wearing his usual suit, but he had taken off his coat, and I could see his white shirt under the vest.
A strange feeling washed over me, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
It wasn’t just because he was different from all the other officers, who were mostly white with a few brown faces mixed in.
It was something else, something I couldn’t explain.
It was like we were connected by an invisible thread, and it was pulling me towards him.
I didn’t know what to do, so I kept staring at him until he looked at me.
His dark eyes met mine, and I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.
I couldn’t stop staring at him.
I finally looked away, feeling hot all over.
I took another sip of my wine, trying to calm my racing heart.
That was when I remembered my brother talking about him.
My brother, Khamba, was a Lieutenant in the British Indian Army, and he had mentioned Arjun Mehta before.
But I had never really paid much attention.
I was too busy with my studies to worry about what my brother did for a living.
But now I couldn’t help myself.
I had to know more about him.
My brother had told me that Arjun Mehta was a political agent, which meant that he worked for the British government.
But his family was from Manipur, which meant that he was one of us.
A few days ago, I would have been happy to forget about all these British officers and their local cronies.
But things had changed, and I needed to know who my enemies were.
I turned back to the officer who had asked me to dance, but he had already moved on to another woman.
I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had come over me, and looked around the room.
The band was playing a waltz, and the couples on the dance floor were moving in slow circles, lost in each other’s arms.
I took another sip of my wine and tried to remember the last time I had danced with someone.
It was so long ago that I couldn’t even recall the name of the man I had danced with, let alone his face.
All I remembered was that he had been a good dancer, and that he had made me laugh.
I closed my eyes, trying to hold on to that memory for as long as I could, but it slipped through my fingers like water, leaving an ache in its wake.
I opened my eyes and saw my sister, Khuman, smiling at me from across the room.
She was standing next to my younger brother, Khuman, who was talking to her in a low voice.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could tell that she was trying to convince him to do something he didn’t want to do, and that she wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
She turned back to me and beckoned me to join them on the dance floor.
I looked around the room one more time, hoping to find an excuse not to go, but there wasn’t one.
Everyone was too busy dancing and drinking and laughing to notice me standing there all by myself.
I sighed and put down my glass of wine, knowing that there was no way out of this.
I straightened my back and smoothed down my deel, trying to shake off the sadness that threatened to consume me, and made my way towards them.
It was only a few steps away, but it felt like miles.
My feet felt heavy, and every beat of the music was like a hammer pounding against my skull.
When I finally reached them, Khuman grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the dance floor.
I tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let go.