Why Mughal Women Were Forced to Serve Their Own Families

"Bhulna mat, tum kiski ho?" – Akbar’s voice echoes, cold and possessive, as he commands Anarkali, reminding her of her place within the harem. In Taj: Divided by Blood, Naseeruddin Shah’s portrayal of Akbar delivers this chilling line, a reminder that, within the walls of the royal palace, love and loyalty were mere illusions. Anarkali, like countless women before and after her, was bound not by affection or desire, but by a legacy of power, control, and subjugation. The Mughal women, though surrounded by the opulence of the empire, lived lives dictated by their royal bloodlines, serving their families in ways that stripped them of personal autonomy.But was it only the men who held power in these stories, or were the women, too, prisoners in their own blood-stained histories? This is a tale not often told, but it lies hidden in the dark corners of the harem, where power and passion collided in ways that left women broken yet resilient.

In the Mughal empire, the bond between a woman and her family wasn’t defined by love or mutual respect. It was defined by duty—an unspoken contract to uphold the dynasty, no matter the cost. Mughal women were expected to marry within the royal family, a tradition born of necessity to preserve the purity of the bloodline. Marrying outside the family was forbidden, as it would dilute the family’s power and influence. This wasn’t about love; it was about survival, control, and securing the future of the empire.


These marriages were strategic, often arranged when the women were little more than children. Their lives, hopes, and desires were sacrificed at the altar of political ambition, each marriage a transaction to secure power, not a union of souls.

While the palace glittered with gold, jewels, and extravagant celebrations, the harem stood as a stark reminder of the suffocating control exerted over these women. It was a gilded cage—beautiful on the outside but confining on the inside. Royal women, including daughters and concubines, were forbidden from marrying outside the family and were confined to the harem, where they were little more than trophies, reminders of dynastic power.
Inside these walls, the women lived under constant surveillance. They were expected to remain loyal, obedient, and passive, their roles defined by the needs of the empire, not by their own desires. Many lived in isolation, cut off from the outside world, forced to satisfy the physical needs of their relatives, courtiers, and sometimes even servants. Their lives, devoid of the freedoms afforded to others, were dictated by blood ties and obligations.

One of the most haunting tales from the Mughal harem involves Shah Jahan, the architect of the Taj Mahal. It is said that when he discovered a servant hiding in his daughter’s chambers, he ordered the servant to be burned alive in an oven. While the exact truth of this account is debated, it serves as a chilling reminder of the lengths to which Mughal rulers went to maintain control over their women and the lengths to which they ensured silence in the harem.

Was this simply the paranoia of a ruler bent on preserving his dynasty, or was it a reflection of a deeper, more pervasive sense of ownership over the women of the harem? A sense that they were not daughters, sisters, or wives, but mere extensions of the royal bloodline—property to be controlled and protected, but never to be loved freely.

One of the most controversial and speculative stories about Mughal women concerns Shah Jahan’s rumored marriage to his daughter, based on her resemblance to his beloved Mumtaz Mahal. This story, which has persisted through popular culture and historical speculation, remains unsubstantiated by credible historical evidence. It’s a tale built on the idea of love and loss, but it is also a symbol of the extent to which the royal family exerted control over its women. Whether or not this particular story is true, it paints a picture of women as commodities, valued not for their individuality, but for their likeness to other women—objects to be admired, controlled, and kept within the family.

Such narratives—whether fact or fiction—are woven into the broader fabric of Mughal women’s lives. They were denied agency, often reduced to objects of desire or duty within the confines of the harem, and their personal desires were subjugated by the need to preserve royal power.

Mughal women, though living in opulence, were bound by the iron shackles of tradition, politics, and control. Theirs was a life of constant surveillance, emotional isolation, and physical demands. Their struggles were hidden behind the walls of the harem, where the promise of royal luxury came at the cost of personal freedom.

Yet, despite these constraints, some women found ways to exert their influence. Nur Jahan, the wife of Emperor Jahangir, rose to immense power, becoming a regent in all but name, issuing royal edicts and even appearing on coins. Jahanara Begum, Shah Jahan’s daughter, though never married, became a powerful figure in her own right, wielding political influence and spiritual leadership.

These women, though exceptional, reflect the strength and resilience of Mughal women who, despite being shackled by tradition, managed to carve out a voice for themselves.

As we delve into the stories of Mughal women, it is crucial to separate fact from fiction. While many of the tales, such as Shah Jahan’s alleged marriage to his daughter, lack historical evidence, they reflect a deeper truth—the pervasive control over the lives of women in the Mughal Empire. These stories, whether true or not, highlight the enduring legacy of subjugation, pain, and struggle faced by these royal women.

The Mughal harem, though long gone, serves as a powerful reminder of the price paid by women for dynastic power and patriarchal control. By acknowledging these stories, we gain insight into the emotional and physical toll that such systems of power exacted, and we are reminded of the ongoing need to fight for women’s autonomy and dignity in all walks of life.

The women of the Mughal dynasty, though living amidst unimaginable wealth, paid a heavy price for their royal bloodlines. They were denied love, freedom, and, in many ways, their humanity. Whether they were used to fulfill the family’s physical needs or subjected to control in the name of preserving royal legacy, their struggles are woven into the very fabric of Mughal history.

Their stories, whether based on truth or myth, remind us that power, control, and dynasty can often come at the expense of personal autonomy, and that the fight for women’s freedom—both in the past and in the present—is far from over.