Skip to main content

These kinky rulers



I was doing a little research on the princely states of India prior to the country’s independence. I wanted to construct a reading comprehension passage for my students on those states so that the students would realise what a complex country India was when Mountbatten was grappling with the Congress leaders and Muhammad Ali Jinnah to determine the destiny of the independent India. What I stumbled upon turned out to be as entertaining as enlightening though I couldn’t use much of that stuff in a passage for my students.

Quite many of those princes were fabulously funny creatures. Their egos and their antics made me wonder how such caricatures become rulers [even today] and why the substantial part of human history dedicates itself to recording the follies and villainy of these cartoons.

Of the 565 princely states, over 400 were nothing more than fiefdoms of some 50 square kilometres or less in area. A good number of them were efficient administrators, no doubt. But some of those who presided over large kingdoms were sheer megalomaniacs if not sheer neurotics.  

The Maharaja of Baroda, for instance, used court tunics of spun gold. One particular family only was allowed to weave their threads. The fingernails of each member of that family were grown to considerable length which were then cut and notched like the teeth of a comb so that they could caress the gold threads into perfection.

This king also had a collection of fabulous diamonds including the Star of the South, the seventh biggest diamond in the world. His royal elephant was decorated with ten gold chains, each of which was worth 25,000 British pounds in those days.  He also organised annual elephant fights in which two elephants were made to fight with each other after they were driven mad by lance wounds. The fight went on until one of the elephants killed the other.

The Raja of Dhenkanal also used elephants for entertainment, but not violently. His hobby was to exhibit the copulation of elephants for public entertainment.

Elephants played quite a role in the lives of most of those kings. The Gwalior King wanted to install a chandelier that would surpass the one in the Buckingham Palace but was told that his ceiling might not hold such a mammoth chandelier. He got the heaviest elephant of his kingdom raised to the roof of the palace with the help of a specially constructed crane to prove that his roof was strong enough. He was right, fortunately.

The Maharaja of Junagadh was more fond of dogs than elephants.  He celebrated the wedding of his favourite bitch Roshana to a Labrador named Bobby by inviting all the prominent people of the kingdom and around including the British Viceroy. The Viceroy declined the invitation. The canine party cost the country 60,000 British pounds. That in a country which had 620,000 impoverished subjects.

Mysore Maharaja impoverished his treasury when a Chinese sage told him that crushed diamonds had aphrodisiac potency. Hundreds of precious diamonds were ground to dust and the potions made with it were fed to the royal concubines.
 
Bhupinder Singh of Patiala in 1911
Image from Wikipedia
Women were a weakness of all the kings. The award for maximum sexual delights should go, however, to none other than Bhupinder Singh of Patiala.  His harem consisted of 350 beauties some of whom joined him in the swimming pool, all naked, and served him whisky as well as entertained him with some of the most complex positions described in the Kamasutra.

All the kings of Patiala had a special bone in their penises apparently. Until the turn of the twentieth century, the King would appear in public fully naked once a year wearing only a diamond breastplate which had 1001 brilliant blue-white diamonds. His penis would be in full and glorious erection.  It was believed in the country that the royal erection radiated magical powers which could drive out evil spirits from the land.

We could go on and on. Our rulers were great entertainers, in short. As I continued my research, which obviously was not giving me the stuff for the comprehension passage, I halted to wonder whether some of our present leaders are any different.



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Randeep the melody

Many people in this pic have made their presence in this A2Z series A phone call came from an unknown number the other day. “Is it okay to talk to you now, Sir?” The caller asked. The typical start of a conversation by an influencer. “What’s it about?” My usual response looking forward to something like: “I am so-and-so from such-and-such business firm…” And I would cut the call. But there was a surprise this time. “I am Randeep…” I recognised him instantly. His voice rang like a gentle music in my heart. Randeep was a student from the last class 12 batch of Sawan. One of my favourites. He is unforgettable. Both Maggie and I taught him at Sawan where he was a student from class 4 to 12. Nine years in a residential school create deep bonds between people, even between staff and students. Randeep was an ideal student. Good at everything yet very humble and spontaneous. He was a top sportsman and a prefect with eminent leadership. He had certain peculiar problems with academics. Ans

Queen of Religion

She looked like Queen Victoria in the latter’s youth but with a snow-white head. She was slim, fair and graceful. She always smiled but the smile had no life. Someone on the campus described it as a “plastic smile.” She was charming by physical appearance. Soon all of us on the Sawan school campus would realise how deceptive appearances were. Queen took over the administration of Sawan school on behalf of her religious cult RSSB [Radha Soami Satsang Beas]. A lot was said about RSSB in the previous post. Its godman Gurinder Singh Dhillon is now 70 years old. I don’t know whether age has mellowed his lust for land and wealth. Even at the age of 64, he was embroiled in a financial scam that led to the fall of two colossal business enterprises, Fortis Healthcare and Religare finance. That was just a couple of years after he had succeeded in making Sawan school vanish without a trace from Delhi which he did for the sake of adding the school’s twenty-odd acres of land to his existing hun

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

Pranita a perverted genius

Bulldozer begins its work at Sawan Pranita was a perverted genius. She had Machiavelli’s brain, Octavian’s relentlessness, and Levin’s intellectual calibre. She could have worked wonders if she wanted. She could have created a beautiful world around her. She had the potential. Yet she chose to be a ruthless exterminator. She came to Sawan Public School just to kill it. A religious cult called Radha Soami Satsang Beas [RSSB] had taken over the school from its owner who had never visited the school for over 20 years. This owner, a prominent entrepreneur with a gargantuan ego, had come to the conclusion that the morality of the school’s staff was deviating from the wavelengths determined by him. Moreover, his one foot was inching towards the grave. I was also told that there were some domestic noises which were grating against his patriarchal sensibilities. One holy solution for all these was to hand over the school and its enormous campus (nearly 20 acres of land on the outskirts

Sanjay and other loyalists

AI-generated illustration Some people, especially those in politics, behave as if they are too great to have any contact with the ordinary folk. And they can get on with whoever comes to power on top irrespective of their ideologies and principles. Sanjay was one such person. He occupied some high places in Sawan school [see previous posts, especially P and Q ] merely because he knew how to play his cards more dexterously than ordinary politicians. Whoever came as principal, Sanjay would be there in the elite circle. He seemed to hold most people in contempt. His respect was reserved for the gentry. I belonged to the margins of Sawan society, in Sanjay’s assessment. So we hardly talked to each other. Looking back, I find it quite ludicrous to realise that Sanjay and I lived on the same campus 24x7 for a decade and a half without ever talking to each other except for official purposes.      Towards the end of our coexistence, Sawan had become a veritable hell. Power supply to the