FilmIndia (Jan-Nov 1942)

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The Beloved Of The Gods By: Devvan Sharar The Maharajah's party was returning from the tiger hunt. All day the royal elephants, over a hundred of them, had moved through jungle and forest, patiently following up the quarry. All day the difficult, arduous chase had endured; until two magnificent tigers, each skilfully tracked down amid the shcuts of the beaters, and en:ircled at last by an ever narrowing •ing of elephants, had fallen to the Maharajah's gun. The shikar over, the Maharani and lier ladies had ridden forth to meet he party. There was much talk of he Maharajah's prowess in this ind in bygone hunts; and still more if the skill of Kesar Singh, his Daogha Shi-kar (Master of the Royal Hunt and Keeper of the elephants), upon whose shoulders rested the organisation of all such affairs. It was said of him, and with reason, that he knew his elephants as no master had known them before; their likes, their hates, even their very thoughts were not hidden from him. Kesar Singh was tall and upright and very handsome and a favourite with all the Court at Yashvant Garh. He was also young, only a little older than the Maharani: he came from the same district, and there was friendship between them. The Maharajah Kuldeep Singh, twenty years his wife's senior and of incurably jealous nature, smiled Majesty," he said at length, "you and I have long been friends. cannot go on, for I find that I love you." .But it Mr. Abid Gulrays, journalist, poet and writer, has been a popular Urdu writer in the Indian film world. and talked and watched those two narrowly all the time. There were other eyes besides his that looked with interest upon Kesar Singh. They were the bright eyes of one Padmavati, a maid of honour to the Maharani. Padmavati was deeply in love with the Darogha Shikar; she had long set herself to attract him — so far, with a lack of success which did not in any way lessen her determination. Keen eyes hers were, for all their beauty; eyes that missed nothing and betrayed nothing as their innocent-looking glance roved guilelessly from face to face. Padmavati thought: "He is in love with the Maharani, whether he admits it to himself or not. Fool! The Maharajah is mad with jealousy already, and watches, I think, biding his time. There will surely be trouble .... What do I care? I would rather see Kesar dead than happy in any woman's love save mine. ..." The Maharani Ratnavali was not only young but very beautiful, and the twenty years' difference between their ages rankled incessantly in the heart 59