A quick search of the history books and the Internet on the heroes of the 1857 Sepoy Mutiny of India gives the names of Rani Lakshmibai, Mangal Pandey, Nana Sahib, Tantiya Tope, Azimullah Khan, and Begum Hazrat Mahal. Their contributions to the mutiny indeed have gilded the pages of India’s history of struggle for independence and will continue to be remembered as some of the greatest generals in the revolution. However, amongst the names of countless other unsung heroes and warriors, one name that has been shrouded in the folds of time is that of Jhalkari Bai. As the whispers of defiance and cunning plans to put up a tremendous fight against British rule started spreading all across India, Jhansi was becoming the epicenter of the fierce battle that was about to ensue in the form of the Great Revolt of 1857. Soon after that, when the British declared their decision to annex Jhansi under the pretext of the ‘Doctrine of Lapse,’ due to the absence of a legitimate heir of Maharaja Gangadhar Rao, Jhansi started their retaliation under the leadership of the brave Rani Lakshmibai. In this undaunted endeavour, Jhalkari Bai was one of the greatest weapons that the queen’s army unleashed on the British soldiers.
Although Jhalkari Bai was the chief confidante, best friend, and general in Rani Lakshmibai’s Durga Dal, she hailed from very humble roots. Born in a Dalit family belonging to the Kori caste in the year 1830 to father Sadowar Singh and mother Jamuna Devi, Jhalkari Bai learned the art of weaponry and horse riding from a very tender age just like every other royal warrior does. This keen interest in warfare found its perfect match when she got married to Puran Kori who was already a soldier in Raja Gangadhar Rao’s army. He trained her into a perfect archer, a shooter, and a wrestler. Her journey from being a common woman in an underprivileged community to a formidable general in the queen’s army started when she worked as a maid in the royal palace. As per legends, she had a very uncanny resemblance with that of Rani Lakshmibai in terms of her appearance. However, it was her tales of bravery that brought her to the attention of Rani Lakshmibai and they became the best companions in the palace. Within a very short time, impressed by her courage, Rani Lakshmibai appointed Jhalkari Bai as a low-ranking soldier in her army. Following recruitment, she soon became one of the chief advisers to the queen, and in no time, she was promoted to the ranks of a commander of the all-women army.
As the British force began their preparation to crush every single voice of resistance with their ruthless assault, the ferocity of which Jhansi had never witnessed before, Rani Lakshmibai held on to her ground as the sky over Jhansi began to darken and the air became heavy with the death cries of the fallen heroes. The prowess of Jhalkari Bai took centre stage when General Hugh Rose launched his entire army on Jhansi and Rani Lakshmibai had to face them with only 14,000 of her own soldiers. Well aware of the imminent defeat, the queen waited for reinforcements from Peshwa Nana Sahib’s army before going into the battle. However, no relief arrived because General Rose had already defeated Tantia Tope by then and she was betrayed by Dulhaji of the Thakur community, who opened the main gates of Jhansi by allying with British forces. It was impossible for Jhansi to surrender their queen before the British forces and hence she was advised to escape the fort through the Bhanderi Gate with her son.
Finally, it was time for Jhalkari Bai to utilise the unexpected gift she had received in the form of a similarity to the queen. She disguised herself as Rani Lakshmibai and exposed herself before the army of General Rose. None from the enemy camp could figure out the swap that took place and the battle continued as the British were certain they had the queen under their control. It might seem that Jhalkari Bai presented herself as a sacrificial lamb before the British force, well aware of the tragic ending she would have. However, this extraordinary act to save her queen and the future of Jhansi by giving her enough time to take the flames of the rebellion outside of Jhansi and to the entire nation, embedded Jhalkari Bai’s name in the history of the unsung heroes of the Great Revolt of 1857.
Jhalkari Bai successfully duped General Hugh Rose and the entire British army with her well-crafted trickery, and with constant support from her husband continued to put up fierce resistance to delay the inevitable onslaught of Jhansi. However, it was her husband’s last war cry before being killed by the British force that threw Jhalkari Bai into a fit of rage, and unleashed the Wounded Tigress in her that slayed countless British soldiers until her entire vision was blurred with the enemy’s blood. There are a lot of contradictory opinions regarding Jhalkari Bai’s death in historical records, some of which claim that her identity was never revealed even after her death; while some legends claim that she was set free later.
To monumentalise the embodiment of outstanding bravery and strategy, Bundelkhand still celebrates Jhalkari Bai in the local folklore. Not only that, many Dalit communities from Bundelkhand celebrate Jhalkari Bai Jayanti every year to honour her memory. Although she sealed her fate, the moment she wielded the weapon of deception and walked right into the clutches of death, she remained unbowed before the enemy until her very end. Due to the larger narrative of the Great Revolt of 1857, Jhalkari Bai’s martyrdom has been overshadowed. However, her spirit of resistance did not perish with her and still murmurs in the winds of Bundelkhand, reminding the nation of a woman who fought the last and greatest battle of her life against British imperialism, flouting all the rigid hierarchies of caste and gender during her time. Her mortal existence may have faded with time, but the very soil in which she was born and fought will continue to remember Jhalkari Bai as the daughter of Jhansi, mounted on a horse in her armour with her sword held high, ready to obliterate the enemy.
