Never did I think my life would have such a tragic end. I was once emperor of India, a great Mughal emperor, but now I am a prisoner awaiting my end when I can finally be free of this life and be with my Mumtaz again. I spend my time gazing at the Taj Mahal which contains the mortal remains of my beloved Mumtaz Mahal.
1657 was not a good year for me, my health began to fail and a major civil war broke out among my sons. This is when I realized how much it must have hurt my father, the great Jehangir, when I fought with my brother for control of the empire. It was a heart breaking war for any father to witness and at the end of it my son Aurangzeb gained control of the Mughal monarchy.
Alas, Aurangzeb is proving to be an unjust and cruel ruler and will slowly but surely bring disgrace to our great Mughal empire.
Religious tolerance practiced since the time of my grandfather Akbar is now no more. Hindus are being treated unfairly and being forced to pay unnecessary taxes. They are not even allowed to celebrate their festivals. I am ashamed to be the father of such a horrifying dictator as Aurangzeb. I am appalled to hear of the things he's been doing. I am told that he has been weakening the strength of the empire by fighting useless wars which I know will lead to doom for the empire.
Oh if only my favourite son, Dara Shukoh, had taken the throne after me. I dearly loved him, and wanted him to be my heir. Yet, the vicious, blood thirsty Aurangzeb destroyed my dreams, because of which I now dwell not in a palace, but in a tiny...