Golf carts, or electric carts as they called them, sat waiting our departure at 3 pm for the short ride to the Taj Mahal. The route was all of five minutes but I wouldn't have wanted to walk it. Shops lined both sides of a crowded street with motorcycles beeping horns and pedestrians rushing by. The carts pulled up right in front of the entrance to the Taj and we proceeded through turnstiles to the security area.
Our tour director had briefed us on the security procedures. There is one line for gents and one for ladies. Any bags you carry in will not only be put through a scanner but will be searched by hand thoroughly. You are not allowed to carry in any type of writing tool (no graffiti or John loves Jane messages on the walls). Also prohibited are guns, ammunition, fire (matches, etc.), smoking items, liquor, eatables (especially toffee), headphones, knives, any wires (like chargers), electric goods (except cameras) and tripods, Mobile phones are okay as long as they are silenced. Whew.
I chose to make it easy on myself and had only my phone, a packet of tissues and my room key. When it came my turn to go through the "frisk", I held them in my hand raised my arms and got the usual (but gentle) once over. Not bad. The men's line had moved faster since some of the women had brought bags or larger purses with them.
We stopped just inside out of the security area and got a short talk of what was planned. Yogi stood next to a sign that warned of the monkeys. We had seen them on our way in and marveled at them, some toting babies. Inside we were told not to make eye contact with them if they came close. They would get angry so be careful if you stop to take a picture.
A short walk and we were to an archway that framed the Taj Mahal. It was a perfect picture but for all the people coming and going. Hard to stop and frame it but some of us tried. The thought occurred to me then and many times after that it didn't look real. The haze that hung here as well in Agra wrapped the Taj in mystery making it seem ethereal. I must admit though the haze here at least had a bluish tint and there was a little breeze that helped with the heat once in a while.
Once through the archway, we stopped while the professional photographer, who would follow us through our visit this evening and in the morning, took his pictures. A group shot, individual couples-together and separate, and those traveling solo. They would be available before we left Agra.
We walked about, stopping for Yogi to talk about the story of the Taj. The Taj Mahal is actually a mausoleum and was built by Shah Jahan to honor his wife, Mumtaz Mahal (Chosen One Of The Palace), who died in childbirth in 1631 bearing his fourteenth child. They had been inseparable companions for their 19 years of marriage. I read somewhere that he was so crushed by her death that his hair and beard turned white.
The iconic structure is made of Makrana marble. The inlaid designs are made of precious stones. The intricacy is astounding.
To get to the inside of the tomb, you climb about 20 or 25 very steep steps, at least for me they were. Between the heat and the climb I knew I was in trouble. When Yogi stopped to talk more about the architecture, I told Bob I was going to sit for a few minutes. There were a couple of steps in the corner of the terrace where an Indian family was resting. When I asked if I could join them, they kindly moved over. It wasn't long before I was joined by a few more of our group after the family left.
I was very lightheaded and fighting it off. When we climbed a couple more steps to enter the mausoleum, I decided it was better for me to sit somewhere instead. I didn't want to cause a stir if my knees buckled and I went down. I pointed to steps at the other end of the terrace where a couple sat and told Bob I would be there. The group had to come out that way so he wouldn't lose me.
I didn't get to see the tombs in the center (neither of which holds the Shah or his wife, they are below) or the translucent way the marble looks when a light is shone through it. No pictures were allowed inside so I will have to use my imagination along with Bob's description. What did happen however was I mad another friend. An Italian lady who spoke excellent English sat down next to me and we compared notes and observations about New Delhi. She and her traveling companion were on a similar trip to the triangle cities and would be taking a train to Jaipur the next day.
By the time Bob joined me again, I was much better and we walked around a bit and eventually drifted with everyone else over to one of the mosques that flank the mausoleum. We waited to see changes in the color of the marble as the sun was setting. Soon we were walking to the exit where we found another place to sit and watch. I took a series of pictures but if there was a change except for the dusk, I couldn't see it. Maybe perhaps a little creamier look?
Our carts took us the short ride back to the hotel and a good shower. After catching a glimpse of dancers on the rooftop of the lounge area across the pool we went in to eat. We had had to make reservations for this night as there were only two restaurants and neither was very large. Dinner was a ceasar salad with smoked chicken for me and Bob had a pasta with tomato sauce that still managed a little chili spice. We called it an early night as we had to be ready to leave at 5:30 in the morning to see the sunrise at the Taj. And what an experience that turned out to be!
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