February 20, 2012 Delhi Agra Weekend Episode 8
Regular cars and other vehicles have to stop at a parking area a kilometer or so away from the Taj Mahal complex. The ticket counter is also located here. Nahimuddin was right about the huge difference in the ticket rates of Indians, SAARC country nationals and other foreigners: Rs. 20, Rs. 510 and Rs. 760. But none of Nahumiddin threats about the instant quizzing to ascertain nationalities of those without identity documents were true. In fact, no ids were asked!
Back at The Silk Route restaurant a while ago, swallowing our horrible salty biriyanis, Achan had tried to remember some "facts" about Kerala that we might be quizzed about. We knew Oommen Chandy was the Chief Minister. But who was the governor? Mr. Farooq passed away recently but we had no idea who took over after that. OMG! will Achan's 64 year old dream of seeing the Taj Mahal end a few feet away from it?! Amma laughed at our fake worries.
From the ticket counter building, where there were some more traditional singers and dancers entertaining the tourists, we waited for the battery operated open cars to take us to the Taj complex. We purchased thin paper covers with rubber bands to be worn over our shoes while we entered the main building. Nahimuddin instructed us to rush for seats as soon as a battery car came by. Tourists have the option of walking, horse carts or camels carriages if they don't want the battery car. Only the family members of folks who have been traditionally living around the Taj since its construction days are allowed to operate personal two wheelers along this road. A young lady comes opposite to us in her kinetic Honda. Absolutely ravishing beauty. I wonder if she is a descendant of Mumtaj Mahal herself. Clearly there is some Persian or Turkish blood in her.
We are dropped off a hundred meters away from the gate. Shops line both sides of the street selling marble figurines, sweets etc. Nahimuddin asks us to hurry to the security check line. He has a point, a crowd is getting dropped off behind us from more battery cars. The security pat down is very quick.
An old guide with an Islamic headgear and long white beard greets an Asian old man in front of him in the line in Chinese. The man returns a blank stare. "No Chinese? Japanese?" asks the guide. The tourist shakes his head. "Korean?" Bingo! The tourist is ecstatic on hearing that word and rattles off something in Korean that to my ignorant ear sounds like an old kettle with a malfunctioning whistle announcing water is ready.
Achan, Nahimuddin and I wait on the other side of the security check. The ladies queue is stuck. Some tourist had a camera remote control that looks suspicious to the guards on duty. Couple of precious minutes wasted while she does a simple demonstration of its use.
Nahimuddin shows us the arched, roofed, pillared corridor like structure on either side of the inner street. "These were the markets in old days. Now all shops outside. Old days, on Fridays, after prayer people come shopping here."
"That gate" he says pointing to the gate through which we walked in for the security check,"is Akbarabadi queen's gate. And that one," pointing to the identical one in front of us, "is Fatehpuri queen's gate." Apparently Shah Jahan's wanted to pay at least some tribute to his other queens while immortalizing queen Mumtaj Mahal with the Taj.
Here's the story behind the Taj in Nahimuddin's words:"Shah Jahan was name young as Prince Khurram. He make marriage to his first wife....no baby coming...so he ask her permission to make marriage again....he make one more marriage....again no baby coming....so he ask wife 'can I make one more marriage?'....he marries Mumtaj Mahal, she give 14 babies in 20 years...in olden times child birth very difficult...so she die with the 14th baby...but before die she says Shah Jahan, 'i want u make me three promise'. first promise, that u make again marriage...second promise that you take care of my children...third promise, make something in my memory. He make Taj Mahal."
We come face to face with the Grand gate. Nahimuddin points to the long row of pillared, arched rooms in bright red sandstone to our right by the side of the gate. "In those days, no hotel. This five star hotel for great people visiting." Separated by thick carpet-like curtains, it would indeed have been a fabulous dormatory of the 17th century.
"Count the number of domes" Nahimuddin instructs us. I count 11 small domes making an array on top of the grand gate. We walk into this gateway structure. The lovely samples of pietra dura technique using marble and onyx on the sandstone here is the culmination of techniques commenced in the building of Humayun's tomb. Inside the gate it is dark. But that is a perfect setting for the magnificent view through the arch.
There, shining bright in the afternoon sun, stands the Taj.
"Ooh"s and "Aah"s involuntarily escape our mouths.
Spectacular is an understatement. The marvel in marble. The Taj is a piece of heaven that has melted onto the planet. Does it make any sense to call a building delicious? Yet, that is the closest I can describe the visceral reaction that this first sight invokes. It does indeed look like the Qazim Khan designed finial (originally gold, now bronze) topped with the crescent moon (Mumtaj=moon crown), that resembles a trident, has punctured the sky and made it ooze onto the earth. Bewitching is an understatement.
Nahimuddin offers to take our obligatory photographs. We happily pose. Achan and Amma are giddy like school kids. Their "dream come true" smile cannot be hidden. Nahimuddin doesn't want his own photo taken. "In Islam we take no photos. I only two photos in my life. One my mother when I was baby. Other for voter id card"
"Count the domes here" he draws our attention briefly away from the Taj and to the back of the great gate. There are 11 more. "11+11=22; one for each year of construction. 20,000 workers; 22 years" We turn back again to witness their timeless creation.
Walking through the square gardens bordering the fountains and the reflecting pool, Nahimuddin continues, "There are 16 gardens and 53 fountains. So you get 1653, the year Taj Mahal was complete" The British converted the gardens into English style lawns in the restoration ordered by Lord Curzon after the major looting and destruction during the second half of 19th century. Precious stones were carried away. Gold finial became bronze.
The white wonder is flanked on both sides by identitical sandstone buildings. To the left is the mosque. "When workers coming to start building, Shah Jahan see every day, they go far away for prayer. So he order mosque built first. On opposite side, just like mosque, guest house for very special guests."
Inside this speciality guest house, some of the paint work on the roof has faded. Pietra dura suvives in its pristine glory.Nahimuddin takes us to the central arch of the guest house that beautifully frames the Taj. He asks us to walk quickly forward and backwards without taking our eyes off of the Taj. It appears that as we move closer to it, the Taj moves away and as we walk backwards, it comes towards. A grand optical illusion of incredible scale.
From this lower section of sandstone flooring interspersed with white marble design, we can see Yamuna river taking its sharp turn behind the Taj. Nahimuddin talks about the numerous polluting factories that have been removed from the area. He points to the white sandy river beach across from the Taj, "That where Shah Jahan want male the black Taj Mahal." I don't have any inclination on debtaing if that is a myth originating from Tavernier's writings because I am too dumstruck by the splendid location. "Aurangazeb imprisoned Shah Jahan because he did not want to spent all more money for Black Taj Mahal," Nahimuddin continues, "He was in prison in Agra fort...there!" He points to the left, Far away we can see Agra fort. "75% of fort now is Indian military. But Shah Jahan prison can still be seen. Small glass window for him in prison to see his Taj Mahal. He died there."
We walk around the lower layer towards the mosque. The space around the mosque for namaz is massive. "20-25,000 people come here during Eid and other festivals to pray. On other Fridays it is less. Fridays Taj Mahal close for tourists. Only Muslim people come to mosque to pray. Then Taj Mahal cleaning. Marble washed weekly remains clean." Achan asks about the pollution and acid rain issues. "Yes, black spots on marble when lot of factories here. Now, factories all gone. No more black spots. Marble wash clean."
We put on the paper covering over our shoes and climb upstairs through the covered relatively narrow stairwell. There is a mouldy smell in this area. Wood planks now cover the marble steps after several people injured themselves falling on wet marble. We climb to land on the all marble upper level. It feels like standing on clouds. A cloud made by the marvelous marble specially sourced from the Makkrana quarries of Rajasthan.
Taj Mahal up close is a striking contrast of soft and hard. The marble looks sturdy and strong, yet the structure has a glowing softness. It is a gentle giant. Besides the marble, the still shining colors here have traveled in stone from all over the world: Arabian carnelian, Sri Lankan sapphires, Punjabi jasper, Rubies from China, Mother of pearl from south India, jewels from Europe. Immortal. Unforgettable.
Nahimuddin asks us to guard our bags, cameras and wallets since it is dark and crowded inside. Before we enter the main tomb, he pulls us to the side to inspect the pietra dura work on the marble panels closely. "In a craftsman family....when girl is born, they not happy...when boy born, they happy...the boy like 10 years old already learning from father the work, work on marble, work on stone. these marble with stone here outside done by boys," Nahimuddin runs his hands over the pietra dura work. Malachite green, mother of pearl white and jasper brown are inlaid in white marble. "Look this boys work, but inside watch mastercraftsman work."
We jostle with the crowd and go inside. The crypt where the deadbodies are kept comes first. In Islam, graves are not supposed to be decorated. So crypt is frugal, simple, unassuming. It is the cenotaphs that dazzle. Nahimuddin was right about the mastercraftsmen. The lapidary work sparkles in the soft light that diffuses through the jali windows. The detailing of the floral patterns is incredible. The cenotaphs of the empror and queen are richly decorated. Hers lies squarely at the center of the octagonal framework. His larger one is to her right and is the only asymmetric element in the whole architecture. Representations of pen and writing tablet on the cenotaph. The octogon is open only towards the garden to the south. Nahimuddin explains that in Islamic burial head should be towards the North. Both the bodies were buried with their faces turned towards Mecca. The entry port into the octogon from the North is fully framed with jali like work. "It is closed here because it is the crown for the queen".
An impressively decorated light hangs from the dome. I presume it is part of Lord Curzon's restoration work of 1908. "In whole of Taj Mahal, only seven lamps. In olden days this was oil lamp. Look at the dome. It was full of emeralds, diamonds, rubies. So in the oil lamp it sparkled like the night sky for the queen to see." We look at the inside of the dome and see only gaping holes in the frame from which the British had removed all the precious stones. Will the new billionaires of shining India consider at least a lower quality restoration instead of building themselves atrocious looking homes?
"Muslim people put case against government for making Taj Mahal tourist place. Because inside here it is place for two people sleeping. Not a place for thousand people walking in and making sound every day. Two people sleeping forever. They not to be disturb."
When he mentions 'thousand people' I become aware that there are others around me. Indeed, thousands of them. From all over the world! The Taj is visited by around 3 million people every year. But in the presence of this wonder of the world, even an obsessive people watcher like me had forgotten myself.
As we walk out from the dark chamber, I notice the beautiful calligraphy inside. Amanat Khan of Iran, the chief calligrapher, ensured that the letters higher up were slightly bigger so that in the view from below all looked uniform. The names of the chief architects are inlaid in black onyx on the left wall as we exit.
Outside, we get a closer look at the four minarets. Like Qutb Minar, entry into these are also banned now. Nahimuddin says there are 23 steps in each segment of these minars. "They look like they are straight. But no. They tilt at 5 degree angle. You know why?" Nahimuddin asks showing his palms at an angle outward. I have no idea. In fact, I had stopped having much inner monologue ever since I saw the Taj. "So if any earthquake or accident, the tower will not fall on Taj Mahal. They will fall outside." What else did we expect from the meticulous masterbuilders!
Walking back through the garden, I ask Nahimuddin to name the architect. He had to try hard to remember "Fundi from Turkey and Siddqui from Iran" he says finally. Later on, I would learn that he was wrong. Afundi and Effendi were from Turkey. Puru the supervising architect was from Persia. So was Amanat Khan. Qazim Khan of the finial was from Lahore. Chiranjilal, the lapidary was from Delhi.
We sit in one of the stone benches in the park and drink some more of the Taj through our eyes. A gentle breeze keeps blowing. There are people lying on the lawns. There is an undeniable sense of elevation. It is not sexual but it is akin to the feeling I have had when in the company of gorgeous woman. Is there an unbearable lightness of beholding beauty?
Achan and Amma continue to shake their head in disbelief, marveling at what we are witnessing. We ask Achan if he would like a tomb somewhere in the garden there itself. We make some jokes linking the word tomb with similar sounding words in Malayalam 'toomba' (spade) and 'tumbu' (tip or clue).
As we reluctantly walk away from the structure, Nahimuddin warns us about beggars and hawkers who might aggressively pursue us outside. I had seen Slumdog Millionaire. Just like his warning about the citizenship quizzing, this also turns out to be false. We walk out in peace. On the way out, we walk through the sandstone "guest dormatory" of the 17th century. The row of niche windows and arch doorways that connect it offer a wonderful view.
While leaving, at the gate, I see a miniature Shiva Linga, that icon of Buddhism corrupted and acquired by modern Brahmanism, left on the raised platform by someone. There has been some claims and propaganda by the right wing Hindus that the Taj Mahal was originally a Shiva temple. I wonder if eventually this small linga, currently sitting outside will make its way inside, triggering another demolition spree by the Hindu fanatics.
The 'Mumtaj Mahal' on her kinetic Honda from earlier comes opposite to us again on her way back this time. It looks like she is even more beautiful. Perhaps exposure to Taj has granted my eyes an enhanced sense of beauty.
On the way back, before getting into a battery autorickshaw to get to the parking area, I notice that the road leading to this gate of Taj Mahal has been named after a Japanese. Nahimuddin tells me that he was a rich tourist who came to India in the 90s and went missing. He was the heir to a very wealth Japanese business empire. So his parents came to India and put up engraved stone panels on many of the tourist destinations in North India with his information.
During the trip from the Taj to the U.P. Cottage emporium, there is a pregnant, inspired silence in the car. Inspired by the most beautiful manmade structure on the planet: beautiful in intention, beautiful in execution! Though Agra hurries outside the car window, my mind wanders to Pearland.
The Taj: A stunning trigger for silent introspection. The greatest tribute for love! Poetry in stone! Timeless icon of romance! Priceless Perfection! Sigh!
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