Our ship finally docked at Travancore after weeks of relentless travel. The heat, humidity, and ocean breeze felt oddly comforting—almost as if this place carried a certain wisdom in the air. Travancore, unlike many other regions in India, was renowned for its remarkably high literacy rate. The people here, despite being under the same colonial yoke, seemed more conscious, more aware. That's exactly why we had chosen it as our next destination.
Once settled into a local inn, Sufiyan and I set out to meet some influential figures. We needed allies to help us rally the local population for the impending struggle. Our first stop was a meeting with Maharaja Marthanda Varma, the ruler of Travancore. Though meeting him was more of a royal duty, given he wouldn't play a major role in the upcoming revolt, it was necessary to maintain protocol.
After the formalities with the Maharaja, we proceeded to visit various sites across the region. Travancore's reputation for education struck me as an opportunity. The high literacy rate here could prove invaluable. While discussing the possibilities later that day, an idea formed—what if we employed these well-educated people to help spread knowledge throughout the Mughal regions?
We discussed opening schools in those areas. The plan was to start with primary schools and follow the British curriculum for the time being. This would allow us to stay under the British radar while also providing children with basic education. We could refine the curriculum after independence. However, this plan would need my father's approval, so we left it for later.
There was also the matter of establishing a separate transportation company here. Sufiyan, ever diligent, was back on the hunt for suitable merchants. By the end of the week, I had visited the sites I needed to see, but Sufiyan was struggling. Our intelligence network wasn't as extensive in southern India as it was in the north, but he pressed on.
While Sufiyan was busy, I had the chance to immerse myself in Travancore's natural beauty. The lush greenery, sprawling trees, and vibrant landscapes were a marvel of their own. Even in modern times, this region—what would eventually become Tamil Nadu—retains its breathtaking connection to nature.
One afternoon, as I wandered through the verdant fields, an idea struck me. The plants here were fiber-rich—perfect for making paper. I shared the thought with Sufiyan, and he agreed. Producing better and cheaper paper could be a profitable venture and could also support our goal of opening schools. It felt like the perfect opportunity.
Given how busy Sufiyan was, I extended our stay by another week. Thankfully, by the end of the second week, he had completed both tasks—setting up a paper mill and identifying a merchant for a trading company.
The paper mill would be run by Sivagami Iyer, the daughter of a renowned scholar from Tanjore who had passed away the previous year. She had the knowledge and drive but lacked the financial backing. We provided her with the necessary connections and finances. We had identified her through a book she had written, which was being circulated locally. The book spoke extensively about the idea of freedom, and though no one had reported her yet, it could have been a serious issue if it had reached the wrong hands. We discreetly retrieved the copies before any trouble arose.
As for the trading company, we were unable to find a suitable local merchant. So, we reached out to Rajan Deshmukh, the owner of Mumbai Express, and asked him to send some trusted men to guide a local figurehead for the company. His network would ensure things ran smoothly.
After another day of rest, we were ready to continue our journey. It had been nearly two and a half months since we started this venture. Once again, we would travel by land, using carts for the next leg of our journey. The revolution was brewing, and every step brought us closer to shaping its course.
Our journey from Travancore to Mysore was filled with anticipation. The landscapes shifted from the lush greenery of the south to the more arid regions that characterized parts of Mysore. Unfortunately, Mysore, like many southern states, had not been able to mount a significant challenge against the British, who already had a firm grip on the area. Our trip to Mysore was a quick one.
We didn't stay long in Mysore; the only notable encounter was with Maharaja Chamaraja Wadiyar, the last king of the Wadiyar dynasty before British annexation. I knew that this dynasty would regain power after the 1857 war, unlike the Mughals, because they had maintained a favorable relationship with the British.
Our next destination was one of the most important places: Hyderabad. We needed to make a good impression there and garner support from both the ordinary people and the royals for our cause. This journey felt crucial, as Hyderabad could be the key to rallying a significant faction in our struggle for freedom.