Agra and the Taj Mahal

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Before arriving at our hotel we stopped of at Agra Fort, which is a world heritage site although impressive it is yet another red fort where a sultan lived who had numerous wives ect, perhaps I have been spoilt over the last few months, but my interest level at seeing another fort was at zero. All i wanted was to get out of the sun, a lay in an air conditioned hotel room. The constant long drives and heat were starting to take there tole, and i was tired. In retrospect i should have taken more interest in the fort as it is a once in a life time opportunity.
After the fort we drove to our hotel, the one that we were booked into did not have air conditioning, however steve advised that there was a hotel across the road that did have air con through he said that if the individuals wanted to pay the extra they were free to check in there. He went on to explain that dragoman had used the other hotel before but that some of the female group had complained about the staff ‘accidently’ walking into their rooms while they were changing/taking a shower. This was not going to perturb me if some india fella wants to have a look at my naked body he is welcome, just as long as the air con is turned on. Hels, suz, Mel & Paul and i checked in.
After a glorious shower and a lay down in a comfy bed, we all met for dinner. Steve and arranged and paid for a tuk tuk company to take us to a restaurant and to wait outside the hotel all the time we were in Agra and take us where ever we wanted to go with no further charge, except for the customary tip of course. All 26 of us sat down for dinner, with the group changing and growing the dynamics had started to change with groups forming, unfortunately along the lines of oldies and newbies, i felt this a little unfair and tried my best to integrate with everybody, but with a group this size i guess its inevitable. The menu was music to my ears, i had no hesitation in ordering roast lamb with mint sauce, washed down with some red wine and a few G&T’s. It had been a while its amazing how much these little tastes of home brightens your mood, and both makes you think of home and appreciate the adventure that your having. As we left the restauraunt the temperature had cooled significantly and although they was no breeze we all commented on how lovely it was to be cool. Then somebody pulled out a phone which had a thermometer on it, it was 31 degrees!
People that i have spoken to that have visited the Taj Mahal have always said the same thing, “the Taj Mahal is beautiful, but Agra is a hole”. As we drove through Agra, i didn’t think it was any more of a hole than all the other squalid cities i had visited and damn site nice than many. As we set of a 5am to see the sun rise over the Taj Mahal i was a little worried that i had been templed out, i had seen so many that I was concerned that i was not going to appreciate one of the most beautiful sights in the world. As were stood outside with a horde of Indian tourists i my apathy grew, it was 5am, i was tired and a little hung over. As we walked through the gates you are taken through the out buildings which are impressive as any of the forts/temples as i have seen in northern India. Then you turn left through an archway, and there she is the Taj Mohal, its beautiful, it took my breath away. It has and odd quality that it looks like its not really there, its like a mirage. I stood for a minute speechless before getting my camera out and taking a few shots. Then i had a plan. Everybody was stood at the entrance taking in the spectacular view, soon all of these people would bake they way down through the gardens and into the Taj Mahal. I set of, there would be plenty of time for photos later. I climbed the marble steps and up to the 30m plus entrance into the morseleum that is the Taj Mahal. I was inside, on my own, silence, the only sound being the wind which swirls around inside creating a ghostly atmosphere. Slowly a few more people joined me in silence, and then the Indians came, they don’t do silence and the as they excitedly shouted and chatted in hysterical Hindu tones. I walked back outside to take in the fantastic piece of symmetrical architecture. At the back of the Taj is a river where on the other side it is alleged that the Sultan wanted to build another identical structure but in black, i found steve asleep on a bench.
The building work for the taj started in 1631, when Shah Jahan, emperor during theMughal empires period of greatest prosperity, was griefstricken when his third wife, Mumtaz Mahal, died during the birth of their fourteenth child,Guahara Begum. The court chronicles of Shah Jahan's grief illustrates the love story traditionally held as an inspiration for Taj Mahal. Emperor Shah Jahan himself described the Taj in these words
Should guilty seek asylum here,
Like one pardoned, he becomes free from sin.
Should a sinner make his way to this mansion,
All his past sins are to be washed away.
The sight of this mansion creates sorrowing sighs;
And the sun and the moon shed tears from their eyes.
In this world this edifice has been made;
To display thereby the creator's glory.
His grief had no bounds and he spent away the empires fortune on the Taj and let the empire tatter around the edges, until he was eventually overthrown by the child that Mumtaz Mahal had died given birth to, where he was placed under house arrest at the Agra fort. Although there is an irony in the story, the real sadness is that while Mumtaz Mohal was alive she was not his favourite wife, and they spent a little time together, only once she had gone did he realise his true emotions. Men eh?
Me and Helen sat on a bench in the garden, looking at one of the most famous sights in the world, created out of love, loss and the sadness of not telling your true love of the love that you had. “do you remember Fragle Rock? What were the little men who built things called?”
“Doozer men, what were the big troll things called?”
“dunno”
We then went on the talk about Thunder Cats “thunder, thunder, thunder, Thunder Cats Hoooo”, He Man, She Ra, Tony Heart, morph and his mate and numerous other childrens TV shows. It was only after that it struck me what a bizarre conversation to have.
Later we visited a marble place where Helen bought a ridiculously expensive table top, and then back to the hotel. Where i slept for a while and then went out to a cash point and then to an internet cafe, i was there for about half an hour when Helen and suz turned up, it never fails to amaze me that while travelling i seem to bump into people, even in a city with a population of 2,000,000.
We went back to the hotel and the tree of us decided not to got out tonight but to use the facilities in the nicest hotel we had stayed for a while and stay in get a take out and watch a movie. I then realised that i had lost my credit card, probably leaving it at the cash point. I went outside to the Tuk Tuk drivers we had for the day, but the guy who had taken me earlier was not there, i explained what had happened to one of the other guys, he said he would take me but asked what bank, i didn’t know, he took me around a couple, but not the back i went to. Mean while the other tuk tuk drivers shot of to other banks in the city to try and find my card. Eventually they got hold of the guy who had taken me earlier and discovered which bank i had gone to. We raced through the congested streets to my bank, the card was not there. My driver got out of the tuk tuk, and asked all of the people who worked there, if anyone had come in and what the process was if i had just left my card in the slot, it gets swallowed. I still have not got used to how friendly and helpful the Indians are. They have nothing, but all raced around the city to try and help some stupid rich western guy find his credit card. Although they probably know i would have tipped them for finding it i truly believe this was not the motive.
That night Helen suz and i settled down with two bottles of vodka, numerous beers, a take away menu and a movie. Helen felt a little sick and went to bed early, suz and i polished of the Vodka, the beers, ordered more beers and watched the champions league semi final until stupid o clock in the morning.
I woke up at 8.30, the time were due to leave, my head pounding and my mouth tasting of dried mushrooms. Threw my stuff into a ruck sack had a quick shower and stumbled out of the hotel and across the road to RAZ. Everyone was already there with their back packs in the luggage compartment which was full to the top. Bizarrely just before i arrived two Dutch guys had turned up in a van which they were taking art around India, they were doing an impromptu art exhibition on the side of the road the rest of the group. I love the randomness. I was struggling to get my ruck sack into the compartment, so i called sarah to help me, i climbed up the truck with the ruck sack in my hand, i asked sarah to hold my back while i lifted by bag over my head, we were precariously balanced, as i lifted my bag up just about to go over my head there was to much weight, and i fell backwards, me sarah and my bag hit the floor in a crumpled heap. I landed on my feet, sarah landed awkwardly on her wrist. I asked if she was ok, she explained where it was hurting, i recognised the pain, i have experienced it enough times, i was sure she had fractured her wrist. Steve took her to the hospital to get it looked at, while me and james tried the same manoeuvre to get my bag up, this time with me holding james, it wasn’t working when the stupidest of this idea hit me, i had an image of me appearing at the hospital 10 minutes later with the explanation that i had broken my wrist the exact same way sarah had. I dozed in a bed in the early morning sunshine feeling hung over and guilty as hell, being in plaster on the trip of a life time is hardly fun. As it turned out the wrist was just sprained, didn’t really stop the guilt though.

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Comments

[felix]

Well...still sounded fun...lol
Wow, you wrote this a while back... I just now read it...lol Perhaps i too will start telling of my adventures overseas...I currently find myself in Iraq; far from what is considered a vacation. I am uncertian of your age, but I am guessing we are around the same age, being that I can completely relate to your ThunderCat story...lol I was writing my girl about the history of the Taj Mahal. I googled Guahara Begum, mistakenly believing that was Sha Jahans third wifes name. But after reading your blog, I see it was actually his son. I also did not realise it had been his son who imprisoned him...how Ironic and sad... Well, got to finish writing my girl, thanks for sharing your experience.