1st September – 13th September 1947
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I. Whispers of Fire
The morning of 1st September 1947 dawned over the Deccan plateau with a haze of red dust and rumour. The twin cities of Hyderabad and Secunderabad pulsed like a simmering cauldron — their streets filled not with celebration, but with rumor as Nizam is only joining India so that he can rule like how he did it before with Britishers.
And with the rumour people stated to became more suspicious as Newspapers screamed headlines that fanned the flames:
> "Nizam's Agreement — A Mask for Power Retention?"
"Hyderabad Betrayed? Citizens Demand Saraswati Rule!"
From Charminar to Begumpet, from the slums by Musi river to the marble courtyards of Chowmahalla Palace, one name echoed:
"Saraswati Devi! Saraswati Nizam!"
Crowds poured out chanting,
> "Make Saraswati the Nizam — or destroy the throne!"
They spoke not from fantasy, but from belief — belief born of a woman who, unlike the princes, had given wealth instead of hoarding it.
Rumours swirled that the Nizam had only agreed to join India to retain his monarchic privileges — to remain the "shadow emperor" of a new Dominion.
But the rumourmongers — the Nizam's old courtiers, nobles, and retainers — had not expected this to backfire. Their plan was to turn people against Saraswati, accusing her of ambition. Instead, Hyderabad's people took the opposite meaning — if anyone must rule, let it be her.
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II. The Fire Spreads
By noon, Hyderabadi Masala Andhra News, Deccan Daily, and Andhra Herald all carried impassioned columns, quoting workers, students, and soldiers alike.
> "She gave away fifty crores meant for herself to Delhi's Development Fund,"
"She says a palace diamond is useless when children starve,"
"We need a ruler who lives for the people, not on them."
Posters appeared overnight — Saraswati's portrait drawn in charcoal and red ink, titled "The People's Nizam."
In the smoky courtyards, men swore allegiance. In women's colleges, slogans were painted on saris.
And in secret, British and foreign agents sent coded messages to their own home countries, warning:
> "Hyderabad may erupt. The Deccan crown is melting."
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III. The Palace and the Protest
Inside King Kothi Palace, fear had finally found the Nizam.
He looked from his marble balcony to the streets below — an endless ocean of humanity carrying torches and broken bangles.
He had tried reconciliation. He had offered ₹50 crores as an apology to Saraswati, but she refused gently:
> "Donate it all to Delhi Development Fund.
Hyderabad will earn its own dignity."
Her words stung — but also freed her from accusation. For the first time, even the Nizam's own guards whispered, "She is purer than any of us."
Then came the sound — the crack of rifles.
The police, overwhelmed, had opened fire on protesters outside Afzal Gunj.
By evening, blood and banners littered the bazaar.
And in that crimson dusk, Saraswati broadcast a message from Delhi through All India Radio:
> "My brothers and sisters of Hyderabad, calm your hearts. Violence is not the answer.
I cannot enter the city now — not while guns speak louder than reason.
Let peace prevail, for the soul of Hyderabad will not be built on blood."
But her restraint was mistaken for rejection. The mob's fury deepened.
Stones rained on palace walls.
The Nizam's courtiers panicked — they thought this was the moment Saraswati would be torn apart.
Yet, she had already seen through their plot.
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IV. The Evacuation
As the mob pressed closer, a secret convoy of Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel's police arrived through the back gate — disguised, silent, precise.Within minutes, they had surrounded the palace and ushered the Nizam's family through the underground corridor leading to the Begumpet airstrip.
For the first time in his life, the Nizam felt fear — raw and real.
He turned pale as the engines of the Dakota DC-3 hummed on the runway.
Onboard, in the dim cabin, stood Sardar Patel himself — arms folded, calm as granite.
> "Thank God you are safe," Patel said. "It's not like you can save everyone from angry mobs. It's like Paris before the Revolution."
The Nizam's hands trembled — he muttered something about the guillotine.
The metaphor was not lost on anyone.
The plane lifted into the orange night — leaving behind centuries of feudal pride.
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V. The Transfer
Barely half an hour later, the guards at King Kothi realized their master had fled.
In panic and betrayal, they opened the gates to the mob, ready to loot and burn what remained.
But before chaos could devour the city — the air shifted.
Saraswati Devi herself arrived.
Draped in plain khadi, standing atop an army jeep, she raised her hand — not with force, but grace.
The mob froze.
In that silence, her voice carried across the square like temple bells:
> "This palace belongs to the people now.
Its wealth will build your schools, your homes, your hospitals.
You are the guardians of this land — not its destroyers."
A single gesture from her hand, and the crowd knelt — tears, not blood, now filled the streets.
That night, telegrams raced across India and beyond:
> "Nizam Abdicates. Saraswati Devi Named Nizam of Hyderabad."
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VI. The Domino Effect
The effect was immediate.
In Junagadh, the Nawab called Patel in panic, asking for terms.
In Mysore and Travancore, councils held emergency meetings.
In Sikkim, the ruler also asking for terms — "before Delhi sends another Saraswati," one British diplomat joked darkly.
Across India, the princely order realized:
> When the great one falls, the small ones rush to save themselves.
The Hyderabad Revolution had done in weeks what diplomacy could not in years.
Even in faraway Goa and Pondicherry, whispers of independence stirred.
France offered negotiation. Portugal, arrogant as ever, refused.
But the message was clear:
India was one — and her people, not her princes, would decide her fate.
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VII. The People's Nizam
By 13th September 1947, Hyderabad had transformed.
The aides who orchestrated this whole thing are dismissd. And in the place of them saraswati appinted new people who are loyal to Saraswati.
Saraswati refused the privy purse.
She signed the Instrument of Accession to India with no conditions attached — the first ruler to do so purely out of conviction.
That morning, under the shade of the old police parade ground near Secunderabad, she and Sardar Patel stood together.
Before them lay the training campus of the Nizam's private police — vast, walled, and well-equipped.
> Saraswati: "Let this place train the guardians of the Republic, not the servants of a throne."
Patel (smiling faintly): "You've given India its first academy for national discipline."
The document was signed — a lease of the entire site to the Indian Government to establish the National Police Academy.
Its motto was carved later that week:
> "Seva, Satya, Shakti — Service, Truth, Strength."
As dusk fell over the Deccan, the tricolour fluttered over the former Nizam's fort.
And from the minarets of Charminar, for the first time, echoed not royal decrees — but the chant of schoolchildren singing "Jana Gana Mana."
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In Delhi, when Nehru read the final telegram, he murmured to Patel:
> "She achieved with grace what we feared would take war."
Patel, still holding the signed lease, replied quietly:
> "Not grace alone, Jawaharlal — foresight.
She saw this coming years before we did."
Outside, in the moonlight of a newborn Republic, the Nizam's jewels lay locked in vaults — not as ornaments of pride, but as capital for education, research, and infrastructure.
Thus ended the House of the Nizam — and began the age of the People's Hyderabad.