P.S. I Love You

April 10, 2010
Agra, India

We arrived in Agra almost 24 hours after we left Khajuraho. It was a 4 hour drive from Khajuraho to the Satna train station, followed by an overnight train that was delayed for EIGHT HOURS. The manager at our hotel, when trying to convince us to hire a private driver to Agra, said “In India, train no wait for you. You wait for train.” And how. I was feeling pretty crappy, having woken up with a sore throat on my birthday and was steadily getting worse. An overnight train was not really the best place to spend a sick night, but one that was twice as long as it should have been, with 4 hours of that time sitting on a filthy platform...well, uncomfortable never knew a better definition.

This is the hot, dry pre-monsoon season, with temperatures soaring above 100 degrees every afternoon. The only sane option for viewing the Taj Mahal (or any other sites) was sunset or sunrise. I awoke at dawn feeling like I needed a nebulizer and a shot of penicillin. Had this been any other monument on earth, including the Eifel Tower or Coliseum or maybe even the Pyramids, I would have skipped it and slept in. I felt like shit. But thanks to our delayed train, this was our only day in Agra and I was not about to miss my once in a lifetime chance to see the Taj Mahal.

Apparently the rest of Agra knew about the midday sun too, because as we walked through the park that surrounded the Taj in the 6am light, it was like a July Saturday afternoon in Central Park. Cricket games were in full swing. Fruit vendors were sold out of half their goods. Hawkers were out in full swing. Laundry was being hung out to dry. Kids who “collected American money” were about, begging to add to their stash. As my head thumped and nose ran and chest heaved, I wished I had the power to vaporize all of them.

We hired a guide, got our shoe covers (to prevent you from dragging all the filth of India onto the white marble) and entered through the western gate. The first glimpse you get of the Taj is through the doorway of the gate, and it's a tiny peek of a white facade through the brown sandstone. From there, it's all anticipation until you walk through the corridor (which is grand enough on its own) and see the white marble building glowing in the morning sun. For a moment I forgot I was ill and stared in awe...no structure I have ever seen lives up to its reputation like the Taj Mahal. It almost looks fake, like it is painted on a sky blue canvas. Its perfect symmetry and equally perfect reflection in the long pools adorning the entrance are unearthly. It is simply the most magnificent building I have ever seen, and in a state of perfect preservation. Apparently the translucent marble glows and inlaid jewels become illuminated in the light of a full moon. I'll have to come back some time to see that.

The story behind the Taj goes something like this: in the early 1600s Shah Jahan had 2 wives, neither of them able to give him children. His third wife proved a wise choice: she produced several children, a few of them sons. The Shah was so taken with her that he decided to celebrate. He could have bought her diamonds or planted a rose garden or even thrown a gala ball in her honor (and who knows, maybe he did all these things).But instead he went one step further. He decided to build the biggest and brightest building in the world for her and her tomb, so she would be remembered the world over for all eternity. He had marble brought all the way from Rajasthan. The lapis lazuli was imported from Afghanistan, the cornelian and other semi precious stones from Burma. The entire building is simple, stunning, fine white marble inlaid with designs that look painted from afar, but are actually all stonework. Even the Arabic writing, passages from the Koran, that adorn the main doors are black onyx. What is most impressive to me is that such a massive structure was not built to commemorate a military victory, or as a religious monument. It is the world's biggest monument to love (although my guess is showing off wealth was an ulterior motive), which I think is kind of nice.

The Shah had planned to build a mirror Taj Mahal for himself in black onyx across the river, and the two buildings were set to be connected by a silver bridge. Unfortunately, his son overthrew him before construction began on the Taj II. Jahan was imprisoned for the rest of his life, which basically meant he was confined to his quarters in the fort, where he could only see his Taj and mourn his wife (who died before completion of the building) from his balcony. My guess is that he was still allowed conjugal visits from some of his 332 concubines, thus softening the blow of the loss of his beloved. His son had his father entombed next to his mother inside the Taj Majal, their resting spot having become one of the seven man made wonders of the world. Not too shabby.