"Your Highness, Mir Osman Ali Khan — on behalf of His Majesty's Government, allow me to extend our most sincere respect to you, a steadfast ally of the British Empire for so many years."Alan Wilson's voice carried the practiced warmth of a seasoned civil servant, his smile precisely calibrated. "For three centuries, Hyderabad and its royal house have worked in close harmony with Britain. This friendship has served us both well in the past, and I trust it will continue to do so in the future."
The Nizam gave a small smile."You sound very much like my previous Residents," he said, waving away the flattery with a flick of his fingers. "All of you speak from the same script."He gestured to a servant. "I have just finished my prayers. Come, join me for lunch — a good meal will help us understand each other better."
"I am honored, Your Highness. And I must say, your command of English is remarkable."Alan accepted the invitation with the air of someone reluctant to impose but pleased to be included.
Although Hyderabad lay in the south, the Deccan plateau kept the weather cooler than expected. In early spring, there was even a trace of chill in the air.The Nizam, born and bred here, paid it no mind. For his guest, he had ordered fine silverware to be laid out, yet ate his own food with his hands like any ordinary man of the land. When the plate was clean — quite literally licked spotless — he finally spoke.
"As Hyderabad's new Resident, you are most welcome here," Mir Osman said, his small frame carrying a surprisingly resonant voice. "I am sure both New Delhi and London considered the matter carefully before sending you."
Alan realized, not for the first time, that this man — who had never left his state — was far from provincial. Long before Alan left Delhi, the Nizam had already been watching.He spoke casually of the Anglo-Indian Army's campaign in Burma, of Churchill's impending meeting with Stalin at Yalta, his knowledge both broad and detailed. The humble exterior hid a mind as sharp as a razor.
Then, almost offhand:"I hear Nehru and Jinnah are at each other's throats," the Nizam said. "It seems to trouble both New Delhi and London. Personally, I find such quarrels distasteful."
"As a Briton, I can hardly say I like them either, Your Highness."Alan studied the older man's expression. There was something in the way he asked the question — as if fishing for something more."It sounds," Alan said slowly, "as though you have certain concerns, and are seeking answers."
"I have heard… things," Mir Osman admitted. "It may be poor timing to ask before the war is even over. But I trust you understand — this concerns the very existence of Hyderabad."He leaned forward slightly. "What is London's view on the independence movement? On the positions of Jinnah and Nehru?"
Alan almost wanted to scratch his head. This was far above his pay grade. Whether India was to be kept or let go was still being debated in Whitehall — and neither the Conservatives nor Labour had a definitive answer.The Nizam's urgency was telling. To ask the question of a Resident on his first meeting meant this was more than idle curiosity.
But here was the dilemma: refusing to answer risked souring their relationship. And while the empire's friendship with Hyderabad could survive that, Alan's personal rapport with the richest man in the world might not.Even if India became independent and the Nizam lost his throne, his fortune — the stuff of Time magazine covers — would remain a powerful asset. Even an ex-throne could be a useful one.
"Your Highness, London itself has no settled position yet," Alan said at last. "But speaking purely in a personal capacity, I can outline a few possible scenarios. That way, you might decide which course best serves your interests."
"Oh?" The Nizam's expression was unreadable. "Please do."
"Nehru, leading Congress, has made his intentions plain: after independence, he wishes to keep the subcontinent intact — to inherit, in full, the structure of the British Raj."Alan's tone shifted slightly. "Jinnah, leading the Muslim League, rejects the idea of Muslims and Hindus living under one government. His stance is firm — firm enough that he would rather see a civil war than compromise."
"I have heard this of Jinnah," the Nizam acknowledged, nodding. Then, with pointed calm: "And the princely states — including Hyderabad? What is your view on our place in all this?"
"Let us consider the worst-case scenario," Alan said, dropping the diplomatic veil.The Nizam was worried about the fate of the princely states — his fate. And Alan knew from history just how precarious that future could be. In the years to come, disputes over these states would spark crises, wars, and annexations.Not just Kashmir or Hyderabad — even quieter states like Sikkim and Bhutan would, in time, lose their independence to India's ambition.
The map of the Raj, after all, was more than a relic — it was a claim. In Delhi's eyes, those territories were theirs since time immemorial.
Alan understood something else: whatever Nehru might want, it was not what the Nizam wanted. Their positions were fundamentally opposed.
And now, the real game was about to begin.