The End

On my return to Madrid destiny made sure an old friend would cross my path: Ginés Rodríguez Fernández de Segura.

We had met in Málaga twenty something years back, at a distant cousins’ wedding. Ginés was the groom. That day he confessed that he had fallen in love with me “at first sight” but he married my cousin. We then lost touch.

As soon as we saw each other again we found ourselves once more.  Gazing into each others’ eyes we made the decision. - I love you more than my own life - he told me. I smiled and we never again separated. Two weeks later Ginés was officially named as my “personal secretary”.

With Ginés Rodriguez.

With Ginés Rodriguez.

After 1953 I had an idea stuck in my head. I wanted to write my life-story. I was dedicated to publishing my memoirs, but things did not turn out as expected.

I became very sick from the heart towards the end of May and I felt there was little time left. I actually began to die, on the 6th of July and the process lasted about twenty hours.

On the morning of the seventh of July the bell sounded with urgency,  before the door of my compartment I overheard agitated voices which were silenced. Ajit, my son had arrived. I knew it was time to go.

All the Spanish press published that a princess had just passed away in Madrid. It was on “San Fermín” day (7th July) of 1962 at six o’clock in the evening.

My remains rest at the Sacramental de San Justo. The headstone is made of white marble. The coffin is dominated by a cross and over the headstone lies the Sikh dagger and the Crown of the House of Kapurthala, this denotes that the person that lies here belonged to royalty.

Ginés and Ajit took charge of realizing my last wishes. All my possessions became property of my son. He recovered my jewels, which were deposited in a safe in the Central Bank, and proceeded to empty and sell the houses in Madrid and Málaga.

For my niece Victoria I left my personal objects: clothes, coats. Saris, portraits, fans and my most priced possession: all my letters, diaries, photographs and documents with the charge of taking custody of my memory or to hand it over to whoever knows how to best preserve it.