03 Feb 2016

Agra - The Taj Mahal

Can’t go to India without seeing the Taj Mahal. Actually, you very well can as it’s a big country and the Taj is not a franchise business, so there is only one and…I digress.

Since I was in Delhi, it seemed like a smart idea to go take a look though: The Taj Mahal is located in a neighbouring city called Agra only a few hours away and I wanted to see what all the fuss is about. Luckily I had run into a group of friends from England at the hostel, and they were planning to go, so I just tagged along. Unfortunately, they had moved to another hostel in the meantime and hired a car from there. And so it happened that I had to kick myself out of bed around 3am and take an auto/tuktuk/threewheeler from Paharganj to South Delhi. This time of night the roads were wonderfully quiet and empty, just like my brain. Unfortunately this was also true for the driver, who took a somewhat experimental approach to navigation. As luck would have it, the others were delayed, too, since their driver hadn’t turned up yet.

When he did, we were all a bit surprised: Our ride was a lot cleaner and fancier than expected. Impressed, we settled down for a 4-hour nap on our way to Agra.

HONK! - HONK! - HOOOOOOOONK!

Unfortunately our driver did not live up to the distinguished flair of our ride: As we drove through South Delhi, he honked continuously, weaving in and out of traffic. Yay, we were riding with Indian Ayrton Senna…

Since there was no hope of sleeping, I enjoyed the view of the sprawling city as it was slowly waking up. Everywhere construction sites were reaching up into the sky. As we drove past Faridabad Industrial Town I found myself staring at the swanky appartment buildings the multinationals had built there for their staff. My amazement was shortlived at this ungodly hour, so I drifted off before too long.

Definitely not drooling, I had sunk against the window and only woke up when I heard the sound of dull thumping. When I looked around, I saw that the sound was caused by our driver repeatedly punching his thigh. When asked why, he responded “So I stay awake!” Oooo-kay. We insisted he stop at the next gas station and bought him a coffee.

As luck would have it, our driver was clearly not used to higher doses of caffeine and decided to liven up the early morning by turning on the radio and tuning into a station playing native dance music (think squealing pipes, a tinny beat and the sounds of small animals in agony). Good thinking, genius: Not like any of us wanted to sleep at goddamn six in the morning…

Instead of much-need sleep I got to see some of the country side and some villages between Delhi and Agra. Simply put: Not a fan. Most of the villages seemed fairly underdeveloped, the roads were bad and traffic consisted of various configurations of wheels, axles, curious-looking engines and livestock. Often a little bit of everything, all bound together with sticky tape.

Low-emissions transportation

We picked up our tour guide in the outskirts of Agra, a polite and well-spoken professional guide. Next we stopped at a fairly swanky-looking hotel (in a decidedly less swanky-looking neighbourhood) for brunch before heading towards the Taj Mahal itself.

The powers-that-be forbid traffic of cars and tuktuks around the Taj Mahal (generally a good idea: black soot, white stone, makes sense). The downside of that was that as we stepped out of the car, we also stepped into a massive pack of waiting hawkers and shitpeddlers. “No. No. No, thank you. I swear to god, if you touch me again..!” So we made our way throught the thick of commerce towards the entrance. Here, our guide collected money for the entrance fees. As I had seen before in Delhi, discriminatory prices apply. This means that tourists like us paid about 10€ per person, where locals and other Asians paid about one Euro or two. While this seems a bit unusual, a part of me hopes that the money is actually used for the upkeep of this impressive monument. It probably is. I mean, they say it is. So it probably is. Yeah.

With our tickets, complimentary water bottles and plastic overshoes we passed through yet another security checkpoint and found ourselves in front of the Great Gate. Now I’ll leave the history lesson to Wikipedia, but the gist is: The entire complex was built under orders of emperor Shah Jahan in the early 17th century. Weirdly, I had assumed it to be much older but that might just be me.

The pointy white building is a tomb for his favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, as a symbol of his undying love for her. His other three wives got smaller buildings, as a type of undying fuck-you.

The Great Gate

The outer gates and walls consist of red stone with incredibly intricate inlays of stones and mother of pearl. Shah Jahan being a Moghul, and hence muslim, emperor, many of the inlays and inscriptions are actually calligraphy and verses of the the Qur’an.

Calligraphy in marble

In addition to the mesmerizing detail of inlays, the entire complex is filled with interesting architectural mindgames. For example, the calligraphy on the Great Gate is written in increasingly larger font towards the top, to ensure all letters look the same size when viewed from the ground. The effect is hard to describe but there is a tangible feeling of “…huh?”

The the Great Gate one enters the mausoleum grounds, in which a long pool points towards the white mausoleum itself. Eventhough we were less than lucky with the weather, the view was captivating. While we were swarmed by other tourists, seeing this World Wonder just before us was oddly moving.

View from the Great Gate

(I should also note that the grounds were kept very clean and orderly. Now that’s what I paid for!)

Following the path along the pool we reached the foot of the mausoleum. Here, our guide pointed out that the four towers around the main building were actually built at an angle, slightly slanting outwards. This was primarily done to keep them from damaging the main dome should they fall, but also has the curious effect of - again - reducing skewing a bit when viewed from the ground.

Here, we all slipped on our overshoes and slowly shuffled into the mausoleum. Every inch of white marble was covered in intricate patterns and inlays. The level of detail was truly astonishing. In the light of flashlights we wandered around the tomb of Mumtaz Mahal and marveled at the decoration all around us.

Eventually we managed to push through the throng of tourists and exited the tomb on the backside. The Taj had been build right on the Yamuna riverbank. Rumor has it that Shah Jahan had begun construction of a second tomb for himself on the opposite riverbank, only built from black stone. However, when researching that topic, I found conflicting reports about that tale. We ended up enjoying the view of the misty river for a bit before heading back towards the gate. We used the way back to take a few more pictures (for Facebook, you know) and then fought our way back towards the entrance and our car.

We stood around for about 15 minutes, waiting for our driver to turn up, all the while every damn hawker of Agra danced around us. “No. No. No. Just. No. Jesus. No. No. Fffffff…NO!”

We were supposed to go see the Red Fort of Agra next, but were dropped off at a “Crafts Museum” first. Here, a few crafty local guys were creating some of those amazing stone inlays for decoration. It took a while to explain to them that yes, that marble table top with 18 kinds of gem inlays was very impressive, but no, I was not going to buy, partially because it weighed 80kg. No, I did not want them to ship it to my home address, but thanks for asking.

Traditional crafts

After tactfully leaving the “museum”, we visited the Red Fort. I’ll be honest: I remember next to nothing about that part. The sun had come out and burned my brain to a crisp. I was incredibly glad to get back into the car eventually. Most of us fell asleep almost right away and slept blissfully through the bumpy ride back to Delhi.

Until next time,
Arne