In the twilight of the Mughal Empire, amid the decaying grandeur of Delhi’s Red Fort, a young woman stepped intohistory. She was eighteen, sharp-eyed and unexpectedly powerful. Zeenat Mahal was born to be empress. She had no royal lineage, no divine claim to a throne, and yet, by the time the empire collapsed in fire and fury in 1857, hers would be the most talked-about name in the city’s crumbling havelis and crowded bazaars. A queen adored and feared, her rise would contrast with the unravelling of the empire itself.
Married at a young age to the ageing Bahadur Shah Zafar, last of the Mughals, the poet-king clinging to the ghost of a former empire, Zeenat Mahal was not content to remain in the shadows of the zenana. Where others saw a dying court and a powerless ruler, she saw opportunity. And she took it.
She would rule over the harem and the emperor’s heart, and make decisions that would ripple through the court like wildfire. Her ambition stirred gossip. Her defiance drew scorn. And her name would eventually be entangled in one of the empire’s darkest scandals: betrayal, bloodshed and murder.
But before all that before the revolt, before the fall of Delhi, before the exile and ruin—there was a girl in Lal Kuan. A girl who captivated an emperor and bent a fading dynasty around her will.
In 1840, Zeenat Mahal, daughter of the aristocrat Nawab Ahmad Quli Khan, married Bahadur Shah Zafar. She was barely nineteen. He was sixty-four.¹
On the day of their wedding, the emperor gave her the title ‘Zeenat Mahal’. Her birth name remains lost in history. Contemporary Urdu newspapers noted that she received a personal allowance of Rs 500 per month and an alimony of Rs 7 lakh.² Gossip swirled around the court, suggesting that the emperor had been enchanted by her tomboyish appearanceand manner.
This was just juicy gossip, about his preferences—rumours that his father, Emperor Akbar Shah II, had once doubted hisson’s interest in women altogether.³ Such assumptions proved false. Zafar not only had a large harem, but he also marriedseveral women before Zeenat, and four more after her. In all, he fathered thirty-one daughters and sixteen sons.⁴
But none held his heart quite like Zeenat.
Although she tolerated the emperor’s many concubines, Zeenat Mahal drew the line at rivals who posed a threat to her political standing. Her chief adversary was Taj Mahal Begum once the emperor’s favourite and credited with helping him ascend the throne. Taj’s fall from grace was swift. Shortly after Zeenat entered the imperial household, she ensured Taj was imprisoned allegedly for an affair with Zafar’s nephew, Mirza Karman.⁵ But the message was clear: this was Zeenat’s court now.
Inside Zeenat Mahal’s haveli
Bahadur Shah was utterly besotted. He abandoned royal duties for long stretches, choosing instead to lounge at her newly constructed mansion in Lal Kuan—a scandalous move that made headlines. The Persian newspaper, *Khulasa-e Akhbar*, reported in its edition of 20 April 1849:
Rumors are rife of the emperor spending as many as twelve days and nights at the haveli of Zeenat Mahal in Lal Kuan … The Begum spent Rs 1000 a day on this count; what a wonder that one should spend this sum in a day for having invited the emperor! The sweeper at the haveli has lodged a report with the police that the emperor of Delhi has been missing, spending 12 days away with Begum Zeenat Mahal. A humorist made fun of the emperor ‘living like a common man’, setting aside the norms of royalty?⁶
The gossip wasn’t entirely unfair. Zeenat Mahal wielded enormous influence over the emperor’s daily life. Some historians interpret this as evidence of genuine love; others see it as a shrewd manipulation of the weak and ageing monarch by an ambitious young woman. Either way, the marriage unsettled many in the court. The balance of power had shifted.
The Zeenat Mahal haveli became a symbol of this shift. It wasn’t just a royal gift—it was a declaration. The emperor, who should have been the central figure in the court, now revolved around his queen. Some scholars argue that Zeenat herself commissioned and designed the mansion; others believe Zafar built it for her in 1846. Till the 1970s, there was a Persian plaque; engraved on it were the following words:
Kardaye Zafar Zeenat Mahal taamir-e-qasr bi badal
Shud bar majal saal banaye khanah-e-Zeenat Mahal⁷
[The work of Zafar, an unmatched edifice, Zeenat Mahal.
This year commenced, the construction of a house for Zeenat Mahal.]
While it is possible that Zafar commissioned the building, the style and grandeur of the building was absolutely ZeenatMahal. The interior of the Zeenat Mahal haveli was a world unto itself a lush, secluded sanctuary, nestled within the chaos of dusty nineteenth-century Delhi. Visitors entered through a red sandstone gateway into a courtyard framed by carved rooms and supported by slender arches. A marble fountain in the middle courtyard sang a quiet watery lullaby,cooling the air and easing the senses. Shade-giving trees lined the inner pavilions. The arches opened to daalans (hallways) and dar daalans (inner hallways). Sunlight filtered softly through the filigree jaali windows and silk drapes decorated the sandstone pillars. Khus mats hung from each of the arches which were sprinkled with water every few hours, releasing the earthy smell associated with Delhi summers. The brocade curtains were scented with jasmine and rosewater. Hookahs stood ready in the corners of the room where eunuchs and servants exchanged gossip and banter that filled the haveli. Silver trays of sherbet and dried fruits made slow rounds, as Zeenat lounged on low seating with plush cushions and engaged in meetings with her trusted counsel. Her appearance beyond the haveli was no less theatrical. Chronicler R.V. Smith recounts how her procession was led by the rhythmic beats of naqqarwallahs (drum beaters), earning her the title of ‘Danka Begum’ by the locals.⁸ As per contemporary historian Zahir Dehlvi, Bahadur Shah Zafar’s royal carriage was drawn by sixteen horses, but hers followed close behind, pulled by eight—an exceptional privilege for a queen consort in the frugal Mughal court of the nineteenth century.⁹
Beneath all this finery lay the haveli’s secret cool tehekhanas (dungeons), Delhi’s underground network of secret tunnels. Two tunnels were said to have extended from the haveli: one leading to the Red Fort, the other to the Ajmeri Gate. In times of British surveillance, such secret passageways offered swift, discreet movement—escape routes for confidential meetings far from watchful eyes.
Though her private quarters were steeped in luxury and indulgence, Zeenat’s ambition was anything but passive. Her marriage to Bahadur Shah Zafar marked not only a turning point for her personal life but also a shift in the imperial balance. Soon after their union, Zeenat Mahal gave birth to a son, Jawan Bakht, a child who would become the centre of all her aspirations. Her goal was clear—she was determined to secure the Mughal throne for him, regardless of the established succession lines that had long been acknowledged by the British.
An excerpt from “The Power Broker: Zeenat Mahal,” a chapter from Badass Begums by Anoushka Jain, published by HarperCollins India.