Agra & Taj Mahal
India
On our final day in India we hit the big one: the Taj Mahal, one of the New Seven Wonders of the World. The night before we had glimpsed the domes from our hostel rooftop, but sunrise was going to be when we saw it in its full glory.
It was less crowded than we expected when we entered at 6.40 a.m., with the sky only just becoming light. We instantly headed for the classic view of the water courses running down to the tomb, impatiently lining up to capture the central shot. Not knowing where to go next, we followed the locals down the western side of the site, where we unexpectedly found a thick layer of fog covering the ground. It gave the effect of the Taj and the neighbouring mosque floating in the air, a sight that wasn't so classic but was utterly transfixing. Oddly, the fog was absent on the eastern side, where I spent an inordinate amount of time taking photos of the Taj Mahal through the arches of the Mehmaan Khana (former guesthouse). From there we completed lap after lap of the site as the sun slowly rose, watching the surface of the marble tomb cycle through various shades of white, yellow and orange. The red sandstone mosque and guesthouse on either side provided a sharp contrast to the marble and were impressive in their own right, but it was the mausoleum that captivated our attention.
An hour or so (and several kilometres) later, we finally entered the Taj Mahal. Sadly, photography was prohibited inside. Built between 1632-1648, Emperor Shah Jahan commissioned the construction of the mausoleum for his favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who died giving birth to their 14th child in 1631. Once inside, we were permitted to make a single loop around a single octagonal room, where the cenotaph of Mumtaz Mahal lay front and centre. Shah Jahan, who died in 1666, sat off to the side (their actual tombs are located in a lower crypt). The entire room was exquisite: painted flower motifs, calligraphic inscriptions, lattice marble screens and semi precious stones creating glistening mosaics, all in immaculate condition - no expense had been spared. Even the 73-metre-high central dome was intricately decorated. The building had held up remarkably well being almost 400 years old, and it was a shame we only had a couple of minutes in this breathtaking space. The exterior surface was just as elaborate, its details only revealed when viewed close up. It wasn't surprising that it took 20,000 workers 16 years to complete its construction, at an estimated cost of over A$1 billion in today's currency.
After returning to the garden level, I undertook a few more laps (Danny was lapped out) through the noticeably larger crowd. As the morning wore on, the Taj's white surface stood out in sharper contrast against the bright blue sky, although the haze that is prevalent in Agra prevented a crystal clear view. By the time I exited through the gate I was surprised 3.5 hours had flown by, especially as there really wasn't much to see within the grounds. In our view, the Taj Mahal definitely lived up to the hype and was well and truly worthy of its Seven Wonders status.
Only a couple of kilometres down the road from the Taj Mahal was Agra Fort. Constructed in the 16th century on top of the ruins of a former fort, it was the main residence for the Mughal emperors until they moved their capital to Delhi in 1638. At one stage there were over 500 buildings within the grounds, but now, thanks to destruction on behalf of the Mughals and the British, only 30 or so remained. Like Fatehpur Sikri, it was mostly built using red sandstone, giving it the nickname the Red Fort.
Agra Fort was deceptively large. At first, it appeared as though it was all centred around one courtyard, but after walking through several buildings and down numerous corridors, we realised it was much more vast than we anticipated (and only a fraction of it is open to the public). Like usual, we didn't know where we were half the time. Marble palaces, pavilions, halls, apartments, water courses, manicured gardens, towering gates - it had all the typical features we expected to see in a fort but on a grander scale. Some palaces were almost as majestic as the Taj Mahal, offering similar floral stonework laid into white marble, Indo-Islamic design elements and geometric patterns carefully carved into the walls. The only disappointment was the much-talked-about view of the Taj. Due to the thick smog, we weren’t able to observe anything other than a very faint, brown silhouette in the distance. Overall, though, we were amazed at the architecture (yet again) and agreed it was almost as fascinating at the Taj Mahal.
On my way (alone) to the next site, I walked through an extremely congested local area that I'm sure almost no tourists ever explored on foot. I began to notice that everyone I passed was eating a curry of some sort out of a banana leaf bowl. Eventually, I found the source. A table had been set up outside somebody's hole-in-the-wall store, topped with huge pots of dal and a line of full bowls. A dozen people were gathered around, eating hungrily and asking for refills. I stopped for 3 seconds to watch the scene, and before I knew it a steaming bowl of dal was thrust into my hands. Not wanting to seem rude, I happily tucked into the fragrant dish. The owner continually checked that I was enjoying the offering, and he appeared genuinely ecstatic to have a Westerner eating his food. He even requested to take my photo with the spoon to mouth. Before I had finished the delicious meal, another ladleful was poured straight into my bowl. Repeated efforts were made for further helpings, but I managed to politely refuse devouring the entire pot. Incredibly, this setup was completely free (I think it was to celebrate the death anniversary of Shah Jahan, which we had only learnt about today).
On my return trip exactly the same thing happened, only it was a different stall run by another family 50 metres down the road. The generosity of people astounds me sometimes.
With a full belly of dal I arrived at Itimad-ud-Daulah’s Tomb, more commonly referred to as the 'Baby Taj '. Built in the 17th century only a few years before the Taj Mahal, it was the first Mughal tomb to be constructed with marble. Carefully planned gardens were developed around the central mausoleum, with four water channels (now dry) running from the tomb to one of the four surrounding gates. On first impression it did resemble a miniature Taj, with elaborate floral and geometric designs along with semi-precious stone mosaics on the exterior, but inside was a different story. While the surfaces were just as detailed, with faded frescos and worn-away stuccos, the rooms themselves were largely empty. The only exceptions were the corner rooms, where the simple tombs of prominent figures from that era were set directly into the floor. Despite not being quite as extravagant as the Taj, it was stunning in its own way. The lack of people at the site also added to its appeal.
Directly opposite the Taj Mahal on the other side of Yamuna River is a garden named Mehtab Bagh. Supposedly, it offers superb views of the Taj, particularly at sunset. I had other plans later in the day, so I arrived in the middle of the afternoon to see what the fuss was about. Unbeknownst to me, there was a steep entrance fee to enter the garden. From the glimpses I caught on the walk there, I realised that the viewpoint faced a side of the Taj that was currently in the shade. The gardens themselves also didn’t appear to be anything special, so I decided to save my money.
Just after commencing the long walk back to the other side of the river, I spotted dozens of kids engaged in multiple, separate games of cricket in a dusty field. Directly behind the field was the river. There was no sign or fence to indicate I couldn't venture down there, so I decided to test my luck. Bypassing grazing cattle and buffalo, I made it all the way to the water's edge, not far from the gardens. From here, I was given an uninterrupted view of the Taj Mahal, on a sunnier angle than what the gardens offered. The lack of other people in this area told me I shouldn’t linger for long, so I took a couple of quick photos before turning around.
That was when I saw a man running towards me, shouting 'Forbidden, police!' He then pointed to another man approaching me, in full police uniform. As I cautiously walked up to the officer, a thousand scenarios of how this could unfold ran through my mind. The policeman escorted me off the river to where another officer was waiting. In broken English, they informed me that I was trespassing and that I could face 6 months' imprisonment for being in this area. After asking me numerous questions, they appeared mostly incredulous that I had walked all the way here from the Taj Mahal and that I was planning to walk back again. They also could not believe that my husband was not with me (I was thinking he would be glad he wasn't caught up in this). I claimed ignorance (I'm a tourist, I didn't know the rules, there was no sign) and apologized profusely. After several back-and-forth exchanges, the first officer finally led me back to the main road (no tuk-tuk?) and made sure I stayed on it. Ending up in jail would have been an interesting way to end our holiday.
Later in the afternoon, I returned to the Taj Mahal – for free. Unbeknownst to us before arriving in Agra, there were 3 days of limited complimentary entry to commemorate the 371st anniversary of the death of Shah Jahan (the emperor who commissioned the mausoleum). It was frustrating to only find out this information yesterday, as we had already purchased tickets online for this morning’s visit (there was no free entry this morning). On the other hand, it gave me the opportunity to view the monument both at sunrise and sunset. While trekking back from Mehtab Bagh, I had passed by the West Gate, where thousands upon thousands of people were lining up to enter the site. As much as I enjoy not paying for things, I wasn't prepared to spend hours in line. Unexpectedly, the gate closest to our hostel, the East Gate, was virtually empty, and I walked straight through without having to wait at all.
The interior was just as crowded as the streets outside. Many paths had been closed off, forcing everyone to follow a convoluted, one-way route around the site. Disappointingly, this resulted in many of the popular viewpoints being off limits. I joined the masses and crawled around at a snail's pace, attempting to take photos without a hundred heads in the shot. Security guards blew their whistles at anyone who dared to put a foot out of place. At one point the crowd stopped moving, and I realised I was in an extremely long line to enter the mausoleum. As I had already visited the interior this morning, I pushed my way out and headed for the much quieter eastern side of the building. (I later learnt that today the public was permitted access to the actual graves below the replica tombs sitting above, which only happens once per year. Given the lengthy wait time, I wasn't disappointed that I skipped it.)
Escaping the crowds, I discovered a fantastic view of the bright orange sun setting behind the Taj. I completed loop after loop around this area, taking numerous photos of the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon (while also having to withstand a barrage of locals hoping to take photos with ‘the white woman’). I was very appreciative that I could experience the Taj Mahal twice, and it would definitely go down as one of the highlights of India.
Overall, India had been a barrage to the senses. The crowds, horns, selfies, traffic, touts, cow poo and rubbish were not things I was going to miss, but the country more than made up for this in so many ways. From the friendliness of the locals, the smiling kids and entertaining monkeys, to the cheap prices, the spectacular food that I never tired of and the cultural sights that were completely different to anything I would see in Australia, India was an utterly unique, fascinating place that I feel privileged to have visited (even if it was only a tiny fraction of the country).
