Agra, home of the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort, the third stop on my whirlwind journey around India. A place of stunning beauty, contrasting ugliness and street vendors out to get your money in any way possible. A city on the verge of making grand changes to the way it powers motor vehicles - a city on the verge of losing the very thing that makes it the travel destination of choice for the world. The place where I ran out of Excel gum and could find no substitute... FML!
Agra, Uttar Pradesh : January 22, 2011 - January 24, 2011
Writing about Agra is going to be a very personalized account of sensations that I experienced while there - some of it heart wrenching and some of it profoundly beautiful. Before I get to that, I guess I should talk about the nightmare of getting from Rishikesh to Agra. Originally, I had purchased a ticket for a deluxe sleeper bus (a bus with bunk beds in it above the seats), which was to take me to Delhi overnight, where I would connect with a train heading to Agra. Unfortunately for me, that bus was cancelled as I was the only person booked on it. However, the travel agent found me another bus, although not a deluxe one, that would get me to Delhi on time to make my train at Hazrat Nizamuddin rail station. And let me tell you, that bus was a fucking nightmare! It was night, so dark as the deepest pit you can name. The roads were barely that - it was more like a dirt trail through very rough terrain. And to top it off, it was very cold that night, these buses don't have heat and the windows would not close. Yes, I nearly froze and got almost no sleep at all. It was in fact, my worst nightmare ride in India! Yet somehow, we managed to get into Delhi at 5:00am - just not where it was supposed to make it's final stop - instead of being at Nizamuddin, it stopped at the Old Delhi rail station, about 30 kilometers away (yes, Delhi is in fact that big - bigger even). So, I had to negociate a rickshaw ride to Nizamuddin, which at that time of night is a seller's market - which is to say that the driver names his price. They know they've got you too because you need to go there and there are no other ways for you to make it. In the end, it cost me WAY too much (250 rupees). In the daytime, that ride would have been less than 100, or I could have taken the Metro for far less. But, like I said, at 4am, the driver gets whatever price he asks and you can't bargain.
At Hazrat Nizamuddin, I caught my train, the Taj Express, to Agra at 7:10am. Luckily, I had booked a window seat and so was able to fully observe the transition from urban environment to the rural farmlands between Delhi and Agra. It was on this three hour ride that I had my first real glimpse of India, outside of a city. Yes, Rishikesh was a far-cry from an urban center, but it was developed. Out here, this was the real deal - farms, villages, way stations and slums. It was here that I really suffered my first series of heartbreaks. I saw some very beautiful things, of that there is no doubt, but I also saw things that broke my heart, things that revolted me and things I could not understand. I saw dilapidated villages, obviously peopled by those who could find no work and were willingly scraping by on the detrius of human society. I saw small shanties assembled around a pond that appeared more like a garbage dump - and people would use this as a toilet, as a bath, for their laundry and also to drink from and to cook with. And I do not exaggerate when I say that the 'water' was more like pea soup than anything else. And I absolutely kid you not about the uses for this water, because I did in fact see all of those activities in action, simultaneously. It staggers my mind, even now, to think how those unfortunate people could not see the dangers implicit from such contamination and cross-purposed usage. It amazes me even more, to be sure, that they were still there to do so - if you or I tried to drink that water, we'd likely die, and yet somehow, they survive and thrive there. Immunity to be sure. Still, it would be nice to go to a place such as that, with less than 100 people living there, and do a cleanup and to educate them on how to improve the quality of their water and subsequently, their lives. To be honest, this is something that I now really want to do and something I plan to do on my next visit. The reasons for that decision will be explained in a much later entry (Hampi).
Another thing that really tore at my heart were the brick pits. Here, people would make bricks; red bricks, yellow bricks, bricks of any colour imaginable. What bothered me most about this was the child labour - I rarely saw anyone over the age of 10 working in these pits. And these were not well-feed children either. They were way too skinny and I can only assume largely overworked. No schooling nor leisure for them, they were likely following in the footsteps of their fathers and would pass the torch to their own children, should they live long enough to have them. Now, I know there are reasons for this, especially in such a poor place, but I simply cannot, nor will ever, accept enforced child labour. Another thing that got to me about these pits was the smoke that would issue from the ovens that the bricks were baked in. These ovens ranged from smoke stacks to mountains of bricks pilled 20 feet high in 100 foot by 100 foot pyramids (with the fires underneath them). The sheer amount of smoke that spewed skywards was disgusting. I have no idea what they were burning, but the colour of the smoke was black, and it really did obscure the sky. Pollution is enough of a problem in this country without this adding to it. There surely has to be a better, cleaner way...
I saw many beautiful things that took my breath away as well. As the sun crested the tree line, the fog over the rice fields slowly, oh so slowly, burned away; both haunting and alluring at the same time. The lush emerald green of the rice plants, subdued in part by the hazy wisps of fog that was slightly obscuring the ghosted trees on the edge of the fields, was very ethereal and atmospheric. And here and there, like sparkling jewels among that sea of green, were the vibrant pink and orange sarees of the women at work in the fields, collecting the day's harvest. It was like watching a living and constantly evolving piece of art being painted before your very eyes, with all of the colours popping out in vivid contrast to one another. I saw too, many animals running wild on this train ride; gazelles, boar, whooping cranes and assorted water fowl. Another sight that was a feast for the eyes was the stark contrast between the green of the rice fields and the colour of the various sarees the women who worked the fields were wearing; bright pinks and oranges - it was a splash of colour in a sea of green. It's too bad I was on the train and going by too quickly to get good photos, because I surely would have loved to have added the images to my photo library!
I finally arrived at Agra Canttonment Station at around 10:30am and went through the dance of finding the right rickshaw driver. What you need to be careful about when choosing a driver is that they will take you exactly where you want to go. You see, in India, as with other places on the planet I'm sure, the drivers are paid a commission from various guest houses to divert tourists to them. The drivers use all sorts of stories to get you to change your preferred hotel to one they suggest - ranging from it burned down, to it's full, to the roads leading to it are blocked, etc. So, I found the right one and I knew he was the right one because he asked where "I" wanted to go and immediately said, "Good hotel" when I told him the name, Tourist Rest House. It was only a 5 minute drive from the train station and cost 40 rupees. And to top it all off, the driver was a funny little bastard! All he was interested in talking about was having sex; with his wife, his girlfriend and his other girlfriend. So much for monogamy in India! I knew nothing about this hotel, other than what was written in the Lonely Planet, but I was very impressed with it upon arrival. It was built like a hollow square, with the rooms lining the four sides and a large garden / terrace in the center, full of plants, palm trees and a working fountain. My room was 300 rupees a night, had a double bed, a western toilet and hot water shower. And it was bug free!
Since the morning was spent, I decided to hold off on visiting the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort until my second day in Agra, as there is a discount of 50 rupees if you visit both on the same day. I'm sure I could have done it that afternoon, but I really wanted to see the sun rise at the Taj Mahal as the pristine marble changes colour with the red light shift of the morning sun. So instead, I went exploring the markets around my hotel. And I obtained a rather nasty virus on ALL of my electronic equipment (cameras, ipod and USB key) that I wouldn't discover for over a month and wouldn't be able to clean off my devices until near the end of my trip. I feel sort of bad that I may have been infecting computers left, right and center on my voyage, but there wasn't anything I could do at the time - I didn't even know about it. Ah well, I'm sure it was harmless enough and I'm sure it wasn't the first or the last time it happens.
The markets were really something to see and experience. As with New Delhi, anything you could want was there for the finding with a little searching. Hell, I even bought some Viagra here - not because I need it, but just because it was available, it was cheap and I'm sure it'll be fun! What I did notice here is that most of the items on sale in the markets I visited were either exclusively for scooters and motorbikes, or were second hand items. I did happen upon a small strip of stores catering to the more affluent, notably kitchen supply stores - which of course, we all know I visited. I'm not sure the salesmen got why I didn't want to buy a new fridge or air conditioner, but they certainly kept trying to sell them to me! The aroma of the spice market was heaven - it was all I could do not to purchase every spice I came across!
Mental note: New apartment = killer spice rack! Indian dinner parties anyone?
On the morning of the 23rd, I woke up at 5:00am so that I could be in line for the opening of the Taj Mahal at 6:30am. It's a good thing I got the drop on the day as there were not very many people up and about to compete with for placing in the queue. One thing I was least impressed with upon getting to the Taj Mahal was the cost; 750 rupees for tourists and only 20 rupees for Indians. At least our fee included our still camera cost (250 rupees extra for video though). Once the gates opened and we were processed through security, it was a scramble by all assembled to be the first to walk through the South Gate and see the Taj Mahal. Since it was still foggy, I held back a bit and shot some photos of the gateways themselves. As it was, when I got to the South Entrance, it was still rather foggy and my photos reflected that. Still, that first sight of the Taj Mahal, perfectly framed through the archway of the gateway was awe inspiring. It literally took my breath away as I stood there, stock still, soaking up the sight of it all; the approach to the Taj itself, the manicured lawns and bushes, even the famed Princess Diana bench. It was so beautiful, that even the obstruction from the fog didn't marr those first moments for me.
Taking photos from every possible angle, while waiting for the sun to rise was so much fun! I must have looked like a child in a candy store, running to every vantage point I could, looking for the best photo I could get. Fog or no, I knew that the sun would rise eventually and burn it away, so I wasn't worried about it. I lived in the moment and just absorbed as much of the beauty of the grounds and the Taj itself as I could. My cameras, if they could speak, would still be complaining about that morning!
Once the sun had risen, I observed the true magnificence of the Taj Mahal's marble construction - it started to change from a dull white, through orange and rose and finally onwards to pristine white. It was a wonder to behold to be sure! And well worth the early morning! I urge anyone reading this, if you ever go to India - do the Taj first thing in the morning; you will not be disappointed! With the sun now risen, I decided it was time to mount the stairs and view this monument to love up close and personal. Before I could do that though, I had to put on these cute little bright pink pull-on slippers over my sandals to help protect the marble. The first few moments of actually being on the monument itself - wow - I am still to this day without words (I know right? Me, without words). I was actually glued to the spot, just marvelling at it for the longest time. Every detail is etched in my mind, from the intricately carved reliefs of flowers to the flowing arabic script surrounding the entrance to the Taj Mahal itself. Yes! You can in fact enter the Taj Mahal, where the tomb is still located.
The tomb, for Shah Jahan the Second's fourth wife, lies dead center in the Taj, which is built symmetrically. You can cut the Taj into four sections, and each one would be identical, with the tomb having equal proportions in each slice. Isn't that something? I tell you, it is something, that when you first see it, you wonder at the skill of the artisians who assisted in it's construction - such skill!
The Taj Mahal is beauty and love personified in stone; there really is no other way to say it. I felt it on such a deep level - it actually moved me to tears. This man loved his wife so much, he built her a memorial that took him 22 years to complete. Who can we say would do such a thing in our day and age? And that memorial has stood through the years from then until now, untainted, unspoiled, except for in recent years...
You see, in India, they use diesel fuel and the exhaust from them creates acid rain, which eats away at the marble of the Taj Mahal. In recent years, the government has banned the use of such fuel burning vehicles within a set distance from the monument. But does this really and truly help? I personally don't see how it could, but at least it is a start. There is also the problem of the Yamuna River - it is slowly eroding the banks under the Taj Mahal, causing it to tilt towards the river. Unless a solution is found, it is within reasonable assumption that the entire monument could shift and eventually tip over into the river itself. As I was visiting, the archaeological society was performing surveys to assess the situation and looking for possible solutions that would preserve both the river and the monument. Time will tell what the solution to these issues will be. I hope it is quick and I hope it will be good - it would be a shame for this marvel of the ancient world to be destroyed because of our modern ways.
After visiting the Taj Mahal and completely killing the batteries on my SLR, I headed off to visit the Agra Fort, which is often overshadowed by the Taj. I have to tell you, that while it wasn't the Taj Mahal, it was marvelous in it's own rights, with amazing architecture! The play of light and shadow in this structure was candy of the highest order for my cameras. Yes, I did in fact get new batteries outside of the fort - as well as a fake 500 rupee bill (this will be important information later). All told, the fort took about an hour and half to tour, especially since I was forced to wait in a few places to get the perfect photo, waiting for the room to be free of fellow sightseers. In one spot alone, I waited over 20 minutes, before I started asking people to please move so I could get the shot I wanted before the light changed and I lost my opportunity. That's the thing here, people are all looking for that perfect shot, so they understand when you find yours and are happy to oblige. The fort, while different than it's competition for tourist dollars, was something special and I recall it quite fondly. This may have something to do with the fact that I've known about the Agra Fort since I was a child, reading Sherlock Holmes stories (it is featured in The Sign of Four). It was really an amazing thing to finally see and touch this place after having read about it all those years ago.
After my whirlwind walking tour of Agra to the Taj Mahal and Fort, I went back to my hotel, to get my gear ready, as I would be leaving Agra the next morning, heading into the state of Rajasthan, to the Pink City, Jaipur. When I got back to the hotel, there were these two girls in the patio eating. And this is where I started to notice a phenomenon, one of the girls, I had met in Delhi, on my 3rd day. She had gone to Rajasthan and was now in Agra, just eating lunch, in all places, my hotel. We sat and talked for a long time, and I even held their bags for them while they went hunting for the internet (that earned me some Rocher chocolates! Yummy!). But yeah, as will occur from time to time in these narratives, you'll see that I keep bumping into the same people, over and over again, separated by time and places. It was a very weird thing for me to experience in Agra, because it is NOT a small place. So for this girl to be here was a little mind blowing to say the least!
As I lay in bed that night, trying desperately to sleep, I kept seeing the Taj Mahal in my mind's eye. I couldn't shake it's construction, it's lines, curves, it's beautiful symmetry. I too couldn't shake the feeling of the love it took to build it. I couldn't fathom it, I still can't really, but at least I have a good idea now. It seemed as though my thoughts about lessons being learned was still proving true - I had seen beauty and I had experienced what true love means, and more importantly, I didn't just think I knew what they were, I could feel them on a fundamental, deep level. And I knew, and still know this to be true because the thought of it now still brings tears to my eyes, a shortness of breath and a quickening of the heart. It also brings in equal measure, sadness - for I do not believe that I have ever truly experienced this myself with another person. I think I came close lately, but not completely. I can tell you that I am eager for that day - eager to find the person that makes me want to build a monument for all time, and for all people to see and marvel at.
And that wraps up this episode of my journey. Next entry, I will tell you about Jaipur and the worst day of my life. I think I am ready to talk about that now... and no Aude, even you don't know about this.
Agra, Uttar Pradesh : January 22, 2011 - January 24, 2011
Writing about Agra is going to be a very personalized account of sensations that I experienced while there - some of it heart wrenching and some of it profoundly beautiful. Before I get to that, I guess I should talk about the nightmare of getting from Rishikesh to Agra. Originally, I had purchased a ticket for a deluxe sleeper bus (a bus with bunk beds in it above the seats), which was to take me to Delhi overnight, where I would connect with a train heading to Agra. Unfortunately for me, that bus was cancelled as I was the only person booked on it. However, the travel agent found me another bus, although not a deluxe one, that would get me to Delhi on time to make my train at Hazrat Nizamuddin rail station. And let me tell you, that bus was a fucking nightmare! It was night, so dark as the deepest pit you can name. The roads were barely that - it was more like a dirt trail through very rough terrain. And to top it off, it was very cold that night, these buses don't have heat and the windows would not close. Yes, I nearly froze and got almost no sleep at all. It was in fact, my worst nightmare ride in India! Yet somehow, we managed to get into Delhi at 5:00am - just not where it was supposed to make it's final stop - instead of being at Nizamuddin, it stopped at the Old Delhi rail station, about 30 kilometers away (yes, Delhi is in fact that big - bigger even). So, I had to negociate a rickshaw ride to Nizamuddin, which at that time of night is a seller's market - which is to say that the driver names his price. They know they've got you too because you need to go there and there are no other ways for you to make it. In the end, it cost me WAY too much (250 rupees). In the daytime, that ride would have been less than 100, or I could have taken the Metro for far less. But, like I said, at 4am, the driver gets whatever price he asks and you can't bargain.
At Hazrat Nizamuddin, I caught my train, the Taj Express, to Agra at 7:10am. Luckily, I had booked a window seat and so was able to fully observe the transition from urban environment to the rural farmlands between Delhi and Agra. It was on this three hour ride that I had my first real glimpse of India, outside of a city. Yes, Rishikesh was a far-cry from an urban center, but it was developed. Out here, this was the real deal - farms, villages, way stations and slums. It was here that I really suffered my first series of heartbreaks. I saw some very beautiful things, of that there is no doubt, but I also saw things that broke my heart, things that revolted me and things I could not understand. I saw dilapidated villages, obviously peopled by those who could find no work and were willingly scraping by on the detrius of human society. I saw small shanties assembled around a pond that appeared more like a garbage dump - and people would use this as a toilet, as a bath, for their laundry and also to drink from and to cook with. And I do not exaggerate when I say that the 'water' was more like pea soup than anything else. And I absolutely kid you not about the uses for this water, because I did in fact see all of those activities in action, simultaneously. It staggers my mind, even now, to think how those unfortunate people could not see the dangers implicit from such contamination and cross-purposed usage. It amazes me even more, to be sure, that they were still there to do so - if you or I tried to drink that water, we'd likely die, and yet somehow, they survive and thrive there. Immunity to be sure. Still, it would be nice to go to a place such as that, with less than 100 people living there, and do a cleanup and to educate them on how to improve the quality of their water and subsequently, their lives. To be honest, this is something that I now really want to do and something I plan to do on my next visit. The reasons for that decision will be explained in a much later entry (Hampi).
Another thing that really tore at my heart were the brick pits. Here, people would make bricks; red bricks, yellow bricks, bricks of any colour imaginable. What bothered me most about this was the child labour - I rarely saw anyone over the age of 10 working in these pits. And these were not well-feed children either. They were way too skinny and I can only assume largely overworked. No schooling nor leisure for them, they were likely following in the footsteps of their fathers and would pass the torch to their own children, should they live long enough to have them. Now, I know there are reasons for this, especially in such a poor place, but I simply cannot, nor will ever, accept enforced child labour. Another thing that got to me about these pits was the smoke that would issue from the ovens that the bricks were baked in. These ovens ranged from smoke stacks to mountains of bricks pilled 20 feet high in 100 foot by 100 foot pyramids (with the fires underneath them). The sheer amount of smoke that spewed skywards was disgusting. I have no idea what they were burning, but the colour of the smoke was black, and it really did obscure the sky. Pollution is enough of a problem in this country without this adding to it. There surely has to be a better, cleaner way...
 | |
| A brickyard en route to Goa from Mumbai |
I saw many beautiful things that took my breath away as well. As the sun crested the tree line, the fog over the rice fields slowly, oh so slowly, burned away; both haunting and alluring at the same time. The lush emerald green of the rice plants, subdued in part by the hazy wisps of fog that was slightly obscuring the ghosted trees on the edge of the fields, was very ethereal and atmospheric. And here and there, like sparkling jewels among that sea of green, were the vibrant pink and orange sarees of the women at work in the fields, collecting the day's harvest. It was like watching a living and constantly evolving piece of art being painted before your very eyes, with all of the colours popping out in vivid contrast to one another. I saw too, many animals running wild on this train ride; gazelles, boar, whooping cranes and assorted water fowl. Another sight that was a feast for the eyes was the stark contrast between the green of the rice fields and the colour of the various sarees the women who worked the fields were wearing; bright pinks and oranges - it was a splash of colour in a sea of green. It's too bad I was on the train and going by too quickly to get good photos, because I surely would have loved to have added the images to my photo library!
I finally arrived at Agra Canttonment Station at around 10:30am and went through the dance of finding the right rickshaw driver. What you need to be careful about when choosing a driver is that they will take you exactly where you want to go. You see, in India, as with other places on the planet I'm sure, the drivers are paid a commission from various guest houses to divert tourists to them. The drivers use all sorts of stories to get you to change your preferred hotel to one they suggest - ranging from it burned down, to it's full, to the roads leading to it are blocked, etc. So, I found the right one and I knew he was the right one because he asked where "I" wanted to go and immediately said, "Good hotel" when I told him the name, Tourist Rest House. It was only a 5 minute drive from the train station and cost 40 rupees. And to top it all off, the driver was a funny little bastard! All he was interested in talking about was having sex; with his wife, his girlfriend and his other girlfriend. So much for monogamy in India! I knew nothing about this hotel, other than what was written in the Lonely Planet, but I was very impressed with it upon arrival. It was built like a hollow square, with the rooms lining the four sides and a large garden / terrace in the center, full of plants, palm trees and a working fountain. My room was 300 rupees a night, had a double bed, a western toilet and hot water shower. And it was bug free!
Since the morning was spent, I decided to hold off on visiting the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort until my second day in Agra, as there is a discount of 50 rupees if you visit both on the same day. I'm sure I could have done it that afternoon, but I really wanted to see the sun rise at the Taj Mahal as the pristine marble changes colour with the red light shift of the morning sun. So instead, I went exploring the markets around my hotel. And I obtained a rather nasty virus on ALL of my electronic equipment (cameras, ipod and USB key) that I wouldn't discover for over a month and wouldn't be able to clean off my devices until near the end of my trip. I feel sort of bad that I may have been infecting computers left, right and center on my voyage, but there wasn't anything I could do at the time - I didn't even know about it. Ah well, I'm sure it was harmless enough and I'm sure it wasn't the first or the last time it happens.
The markets were really something to see and experience. As with New Delhi, anything you could want was there for the finding with a little searching. Hell, I even bought some Viagra here - not because I need it, but just because it was available, it was cheap and I'm sure it'll be fun! What I did notice here is that most of the items on sale in the markets I visited were either exclusively for scooters and motorbikes, or were second hand items. I did happen upon a small strip of stores catering to the more affluent, notably kitchen supply stores - which of course, we all know I visited. I'm not sure the salesmen got why I didn't want to buy a new fridge or air conditioner, but they certainly kept trying to sell them to me! The aroma of the spice market was heaven - it was all I could do not to purchase every spice I came across!
Mental note: New apartment = killer spice rack! Indian dinner parties anyone?
On the morning of the 23rd, I woke up at 5:00am so that I could be in line for the opening of the Taj Mahal at 6:30am. It's a good thing I got the drop on the day as there were not very many people up and about to compete with for placing in the queue. One thing I was least impressed with upon getting to the Taj Mahal was the cost; 750 rupees for tourists and only 20 rupees for Indians. At least our fee included our still camera cost (250 rupees extra for video though). Once the gates opened and we were processed through security, it was a scramble by all assembled to be the first to walk through the South Gate and see the Taj Mahal. Since it was still foggy, I held back a bit and shot some photos of the gateways themselves. As it was, when I got to the South Entrance, it was still rather foggy and my photos reflected that. Still, that first sight of the Taj Mahal, perfectly framed through the archway of the gateway was awe inspiring. It literally took my breath away as I stood there, stock still, soaking up the sight of it all; the approach to the Taj itself, the manicured lawns and bushes, even the famed Princess Diana bench. It was so beautiful, that even the obstruction from the fog didn't marr those first moments for me.
Taking photos from every possible angle, while waiting for the sun to rise was so much fun! I must have looked like a child in a candy store, running to every vantage point I could, looking for the best photo I could get. Fog or no, I knew that the sun would rise eventually and burn it away, so I wasn't worried about it. I lived in the moment and just absorbed as much of the beauty of the grounds and the Taj itself as I could. My cameras, if they could speak, would still be complaining about that morning!
Once the sun had risen, I observed the true magnificence of the Taj Mahal's marble construction - it started to change from a dull white, through orange and rose and finally onwards to pristine white. It was a wonder to behold to be sure! And well worth the early morning! I urge anyone reading this, if you ever go to India - do the Taj first thing in the morning; you will not be disappointed! With the sun now risen, I decided it was time to mount the stairs and view this monument to love up close and personal. Before I could do that though, I had to put on these cute little bright pink pull-on slippers over my sandals to help protect the marble. The first few moments of actually being on the monument itself - wow - I am still to this day without words (I know right? Me, without words). I was actually glued to the spot, just marvelling at it for the longest time. Every detail is etched in my mind, from the intricately carved reliefs of flowers to the flowing arabic script surrounding the entrance to the Taj Mahal itself. Yes! You can in fact enter the Taj Mahal, where the tomb is still located.
The tomb, for Shah Jahan the Second's fourth wife, lies dead center in the Taj, which is built symmetrically. You can cut the Taj into four sections, and each one would be identical, with the tomb having equal proportions in each slice. Isn't that something? I tell you, it is something, that when you first see it, you wonder at the skill of the artisians who assisted in it's construction - such skill!
The Taj Mahal is beauty and love personified in stone; there really is no other way to say it. I felt it on such a deep level - it actually moved me to tears. This man loved his wife so much, he built her a memorial that took him 22 years to complete. Who can we say would do such a thing in our day and age? And that memorial has stood through the years from then until now, untainted, unspoiled, except for in recent years...
You see, in India, they use diesel fuel and the exhaust from them creates acid rain, which eats away at the marble of the Taj Mahal. In recent years, the government has banned the use of such fuel burning vehicles within a set distance from the monument. But does this really and truly help? I personally don't see how it could, but at least it is a start. There is also the problem of the Yamuna River - it is slowly eroding the banks under the Taj Mahal, causing it to tilt towards the river. Unless a solution is found, it is within reasonable assumption that the entire monument could shift and eventually tip over into the river itself. As I was visiting, the archaeological society was performing surveys to assess the situation and looking for possible solutions that would preserve both the river and the monument. Time will tell what the solution to these issues will be. I hope it is quick and I hope it will be good - it would be a shame for this marvel of the ancient world to be destroyed because of our modern ways.
After visiting the Taj Mahal and completely killing the batteries on my SLR, I headed off to visit the Agra Fort, which is often overshadowed by the Taj. I have to tell you, that while it wasn't the Taj Mahal, it was marvelous in it's own rights, with amazing architecture! The play of light and shadow in this structure was candy of the highest order for my cameras. Yes, I did in fact get new batteries outside of the fort - as well as a fake 500 rupee bill (this will be important information later). All told, the fort took about an hour and half to tour, especially since I was forced to wait in a few places to get the perfect photo, waiting for the room to be free of fellow sightseers. In one spot alone, I waited over 20 minutes, before I started asking people to please move so I could get the shot I wanted before the light changed and I lost my opportunity. That's the thing here, people are all looking for that perfect shot, so they understand when you find yours and are happy to oblige. The fort, while different than it's competition for tourist dollars, was something special and I recall it quite fondly. This may have something to do with the fact that I've known about the Agra Fort since I was a child, reading Sherlock Holmes stories (it is featured in The Sign of Four). It was really an amazing thing to finally see and touch this place after having read about it all those years ago.
After my whirlwind walking tour of Agra to the Taj Mahal and Fort, I went back to my hotel, to get my gear ready, as I would be leaving Agra the next morning, heading into the state of Rajasthan, to the Pink City, Jaipur. When I got back to the hotel, there were these two girls in the patio eating. And this is where I started to notice a phenomenon, one of the girls, I had met in Delhi, on my 3rd day. She had gone to Rajasthan and was now in Agra, just eating lunch, in all places, my hotel. We sat and talked for a long time, and I even held their bags for them while they went hunting for the internet (that earned me some Rocher chocolates! Yummy!). But yeah, as will occur from time to time in these narratives, you'll see that I keep bumping into the same people, over and over again, separated by time and places. It was a very weird thing for me to experience in Agra, because it is NOT a small place. So for this girl to be here was a little mind blowing to say the least!
As I lay in bed that night, trying desperately to sleep, I kept seeing the Taj Mahal in my mind's eye. I couldn't shake it's construction, it's lines, curves, it's beautiful symmetry. I too couldn't shake the feeling of the love it took to build it. I couldn't fathom it, I still can't really, but at least I have a good idea now. It seemed as though my thoughts about lessons being learned was still proving true - I had seen beauty and I had experienced what true love means, and more importantly, I didn't just think I knew what they were, I could feel them on a fundamental, deep level. And I knew, and still know this to be true because the thought of it now still brings tears to my eyes, a shortness of breath and a quickening of the heart. It also brings in equal measure, sadness - for I do not believe that I have ever truly experienced this myself with another person. I think I came close lately, but not completely. I can tell you that I am eager for that day - eager to find the person that makes me want to build a monument for all time, and for all people to see and marvel at.
And that wraps up this episode of my journey. Next entry, I will tell you about Jaipur and the worst day of my life. I think I am ready to talk about that now... and no Aude, even you don't know about this.
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