Part III: The Tomb of Shah Jahan

Note: this is part 3 of a 4 part blog that begins with Introduction to Agra

We got into the car and began to drive towards the Taj, but it was not long before Sravanthi turned and started yelling “Nic, Megan, put your heads down.” Obediently, we complied.

Silence ensued in the car, and according to Sravanthi, the officers looked directly at the driver and walked towards the middle of the road as if to stop us. However, upon seeing that there were only four people in the car, all of whom were unmistakably Indian, they recognized it as a time-suck and walked back to whence they came.

A few minutes later we stopped the car to go get lunch, and I feebly poked my head out. We tried to find a guide, this time one who spoke good English, but Megan and I talked everyone out of it. Why did we need a guide to the Taj? Isn’t its beauty enough?

We caught a rickshaw ride and made it to the Taj in the middle of the afternoon. Dodging tour guides left and right, trying desperately not to get one, we made our way to the ticket window.

Tourism, as I said before, is either a religion or a sport or some other form of obsession in India, and they do it well. At the ticket booth, an Indian may pay 100 rupees ($2.50) or less for a visit to a national treasure. An American or other foreigner might pay 10 times as much.

Amit and Sravanthi decided to go to the window to get the tickets, and Megan got in the female line to get searched, which left me with Venkat staring at the impossibly long and incredibly slow guys line. Amit apparently saw it to, because as he was waiting in line, he ran into an older man who offered to be his guide. Amit at first said no, but when he heard the guy could get us through the line quickly, he got interested. Deciding that it was more important to not spend an hour in line, he accepted for 100 rupees, which is relatively cheap for a guide at such a nice place.

And what a guide he was. Not only did he get us through the line, as he said he would, but he spent every moment he could fighting voraciously to keep us from wasting our time. This man was practically pushing people out of the way so that we could take photos, he gave us all foot-covers so we didn’t have to take off our shoes in the tomb, and he took pictures for us in a place where pictures are strictly prohibited (apparently only unless you’re a VIP Guide). And his English was great.

I will grant you that I’m biased. The man, like the tour guide at the last place, was basically fawning over me. At one point he turned and pointed at me and said “You sir.” After I gave him my attention (at which point everyone else had long since tuned in), he points to the card around his neck and says “I am VIP Guide. YOU are my VIP.” And turns and walks to the next talking spot. At every photo we took, I would give him my camera, he would take a picture of the group, and then would ask me to stay to get a picture just by myself. We convinced him to take one of each of us a couple times, but every single time he wanted one of me.

The man was legitimately incredible as a tour guide, however. Very knowledgeable, but humble, he was there when we needed him but would always walk far enough ahead that we had all the space we could ask for. He recognized my nervousness about my camera and constantly gave it back to me after he had taken pictures. He sat with us for 15 minutes when we found a nice breeze and decided to take a break. He was…beyond belief. And I have his business card, so if you’re ever in the area, ask me and I’ll give you his contact information. Assuming he hasn’t changed it.

The Taj itself was perhaps even more incredible. Originally built to be the tomb of Mumtaz, Shah Jahan’s wife, it is an architectural masterpiece that I doubt I will ever see rivaled. Merely walking through the gate onto the grounds is an experience: everything is lined up, and the gate acts sort of as a lens, giving at first a view of only the main building, then two towers on the sides, then four, all in perfect symmetry. As you walk out onto the grounds, you notice more and more exotic flora than I have ever seen in one place before, and all designed to be permanent – evergreens, tall trees from Siberia, short ones from the Middle East, plants from all over the world that were put here as the Taj Mahal was built and have stayed until today.

The Taj Mahal took 22 years to build, and the architects planned on it taking exactly that long. The gate you walk in has 22 domes on it, in two sets of 11. One set is back and below the other, so for the full majesty of all 22 standing together in perfect symmetry you must look from the floor of the Taj itself, rather than merely being on the grounds. To get there, after passing through half of the garden, you reach a platform with a few seats on it. These seats have apparently been host to such greats as Shah Jahan and Bill Clinton, at least according to the tour guide. As you look towards the Taj, you see that perfect reflection in the pool of water that is so memorable from pictures of the place.

We walked past the pool, reached the building itself and put on some shoe covers. There are 22 steps to get to the entrance, one for each year. The entire building is made of marble, with chipped gems lining the walls in unbelievably intricate patterns (and the amount of gemstones embedded in the Taj must be worth more than the rest of India. The first four books of the Koran are printed around entrances – the first two on the gate to the courtyard that lay a couple hundred yards behind us, the third and fourth on the entrance to the tomb itself. As is the case with other monuments, the writing was made bigger the higher up it was so that everything looked the same size from the floor.

A guest house and a mosque are on the right and the left sides of the Taj, making the similarity truly complete. One step inside the tomb shows a hole in the ground that leads to where Mumtaz is really buried. Walking past that, the next room is a replica of what is below, with the most ornate marble carvings you have ever seen in your life. Mumtaz sits directly in the center, the midline of her body marking the line down which the symmetry rests on. Lying next to her, the only thing to break the perfect symmetry of this entire, perfect place, lies the tomb of Shah Jahan himself, placed there unknowingly by his daughter after his death. There is something vaguely eerie and thoroughly mystical about the entire area, and even now, three days later, just thinking about it sends a small chill of excitement down my back. We left the Taj, paid the tour guide with a (deservedly) outstanding tip, and returned back to the car, for our journey to Khan temple, and then home.