The pass of Bundi.

Her brother arranged for her the best match possible – the overlord of all the Rajputs had accepted her hand. She made her way to the rawala of Chittaurgarh her head held high.


Her brother had come visiting. She spent the day cooking for the two men in her life and now she sat punkha in hand supervising as the food was served.

But her husband seemed distracted. Could it be that he coveted her brother’s new wife?

Later during a private moment her grief burst out.

‘You played with your food and Soojo? He ate like a tiger.’

Her husband got up and left.

They had left. Gone hunting together. It was too late. Had they but told her before leaving she would have wept and pleaded and lain down on the floor.

How could they have ignored the curse?

Bad news travels fast. It came before the sun could set. Her brother and her husband were dead. The queens of Chittaurgarh rose as one to join their husband on his pyre.

But in death Sooja Bai returned to the valley of her forefathers. Her ashes were laid to rest in the pass that looked upon the fortress and town of Bundi.