Wah taj!

“Taj Mahal! An epitome of beauty and romance… The sheer splendour of it mesmerises our senses and is intoxicating like no other wine… A wonder of the world in its truest sense ” Guide Dev Anand closed his eyes and threw his hands up in the air to match the feeling he wanted to invoke.

My friend Disha twitched her eyebrows but I enjoyed his over the top animation. Guide Dev Anand’s ornamental vocabulary and his unique ‘foreign’ accent made me appreciate the effort he put in his work. The way his lips curved while speaking, allowing a glimpse of red half-chewed paan inside his mouth was amusing. But I’m talking about myself only, not my friend Disha. For some reason, Disha had certain preconceived notions about Taj Mahal which she was unable to avoid. She came to give me company since I was her best friend. 

We never intended to take a guide for our tour since we were neither foreigners nor unacquainted to the history of Taj Mahal. But two things worked in the guide’s favour. First was his enthusiasm, persistence and convincing nature, all bundled into one and second was our time crunch.  

I had seen the photos of Taj Mahal in the pages of my history book, calendars, greeting cards, magazines and on the internet. But when I saw it in front of my eyes, it was way more spectacular than I had imagined. I time-travelled to the bygone times. The ivory hued massive structure didn’t belong to the busy world bustling around it. Time erases memories but certain creations live forever. Taj Mahal is one such iconic creation that stands frozen in time telling the stories of the past. 

“It’s a tomb… that’s it”, Disha snapped.

Her abrupt and sharp comment accompanied with a frown on her face interrupted my train of thoughts. It dimmed Guide Dev Anand’s enthusiasm a little but he was not the one to give up.

“Yes madam… A tomb of love!” He closed his eyes and pretended to drown in a whirlwind of emotions. I suppressed a laugh and Disha’s frown deepened. 

“Arjumand Banu Begum aka Mumtaz Mahal was his favourite wife…” Guide Dev Anand wiped his sweat-laden face and adjusted his neatly oiled hair. Agra was burning in the sweltering summer heat.

“Among the seven of them!” Disha rolled her eyes.

Guide Dev Anand adjusted the collar of his faded yet neat and ironed shirt and went deep in his thoughts.

“Such are the rules of the world madam…The kings had to marry for political reasons hence they ended up with many wives… they were bound to respect all of them… but love…”

He paused for that extra effect.

“Love is an entirely different feeling… it happens when it happens…to the one whom the heart desires… without any rhyme or reason”

Disha waited.

“He was devastated when she died…” 

“While giving birth to their 14th child!” Disha completed his sentence laced with sarcasm.

“Those were different times madam… that’s all I can say… Shah Jahan was so devastated after her death that he decided to build a mausoleum in the memory of his beloved wife… and here it stands… Love is Taj Mahal and Taj Mahal is love.”

I was impressed that all his explanations ended with ‘love’. Love is complicated and no one can debate ‘love’. Too much ‘love’ quietened my friend Disha.

The majestic structure in front of us was breathtaking indeed. We crossed the garden and walked inside the Taj Mahal. The white marble and the excellent ventilation designed by the architects of those times soothed my body and cooled my senses . Guide Dev Anand showed us the tomb of Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal which was the replica of the original one underneath it. 

As he explained the significance of the tombs, the intricate nakkashi and the verses of Quran engraved on the walls, a whiff of cool breeze from one of the doors swept across my face and gave me goosebumps. As if someone either welcomed me to their abode or were bothered by me and the hordes of tourists around me. The king and his beloved queen were united after death. They must be resting together inside this beautiful mausoleum for ages. My imaginative mind started working on top gear.

Do their spirits play ‘hide and seek’ in the Taj Mahal?

Does he ask her with a rose in his hand, 

“Begum… Do you like what I built for you?”

Does she respond like a typical wife, 

“Hmm it’s good… but sometimes I wonder how the Taj Mahal would look if it was pure black… just like my soorma?… it would disappear in those black moonless nights!”

Shah Jahan would lower his eyes in disappointment.

“Oh dear… I wanted to build another black one for my tomb just on the other side of the Yamuna river… but you know budget problems…the expenses over this ivory one emptied my khazana… and then my time got over” 

She would have hugged him.

“No no… then it’s fine… I would have hated to cross the Yamuna to meet you!… we are both together here so this is the best” 

I brushed the palm of my hand ever so lightly on one of the pretty flowers engraved on the smooth and cold marble wall. It whispered another untold story. 

The story of the man who created it with his own hands, the emotions going through his mind while carving this beautiful flower. He must be thinking of his family to whom he would return, marvelling at his fingers and the tools which were giving his imagination a shape, wondering how the building would look once it’s complete. His name and the name of many such artisans are lost in history. But I could feel their emotions and dedication still lingering in these walls.

When our trip came to an end, Guide Dev Anand made a request.

“Please do visit the Taj Mahal in Chandni raat… it will be an experience you will never forget… and taste ‘Agre ka petha’, a taste you will never forget!”

We did just that. 

We came back to see the Taj Mahal on a Chandni raat, a full moon night which was the very next day. I dragged Disha with me again.

We were lucky. The sky was clear with no clouds and we could see the moon. It was just a 15 minute view from a distance so no guides were needed. Disha was quiet, maybe she missed her arguments with Guide Dev Anand. After security checks, we entered the premises.

The beams of the round bright moon shone on the marbled walls of the Taj mahal making it glow in an ethereal light of its own. The blue, black and red nakkashi on it gleamed in the moonlight. I was again transported to another realm. A world of kings and queens and their larger than life desires. I imagined the spirit of Mumtaz Mahal walking on the terrace humming a song with her fingers drumming the smooth marbled railing and Shah Jahan walking beside her watching his lady love with a smile on his lips.

“I love being here in Chandni Raat… It’s pure magic!” Her eyes sparkled like twinkling stars.

“If someone deserves this grandeur…It’s you my love”

Shah Jahan held her in his warm embrace and both stood gazing at their monument of love.

“Fifteen minutes up! Please move” An announcement was made which jolted me back from my reverie. 

I gave one last look at the Taj Mahal in all its moonlit glory and started to walk away but Disha was nowhere to be seen. I spotted her still sitting on the steps oblivious to her surroundings.

Her face rested on her palms and she was gaping at the Taj Mahal adorned in moonlight, without batting an eyelid. She reminded me of Mumtaz Mahal in my dreams.

“Time is over Disha… let’s go” I nudged her.

“Why is that time over? I wish to go back and witness the history around this masterpiece… is the love story as true as it sounds?” She asked me.

It was the first time she admitted the Taj Mahal being a ‘masterpiece’ and I sensed the inner turmoil faced by Disha.

“History is debatable Disha. It’s an amalgamation of myths and reality. Believe what suits you but to appreciate the beauty of the thing which is right in front of your eyes can never be wrong. That is all we can do.” I said pointing towards the Taj Mahal.

“Now let’s go and taste the famous ‘Agre ka petha’, recommended by our dear Guide Dev Anand!”

Disha smiled and this second recommendation of our Guide was also a hit!

************************************************************