I have been to the Taj Mahal several times in the late 1970s and early 1990s (my father was posted to Agra for a good 4 years of his career, and then, it was my best friend’s hometown in college).
So, with first-hand experience, let me put something out there: Go see it if you haven’t yet. It may not survive till the next generation. And while you are at it, remember this: no matter how often you have seen it in photos, no matter how many films about it you have seen, no matter how much you think you know about it, nothing and no one can prepare you for the actual sight (and touch) of the one and only, Taj Mahal. It is grander than you think, whiter than you imagined, smoother and cooler than you presumed, and more awe-inspiring than you would admit in public.
If you have ever read the words ‘ethereal’ or ‘magnificent’ in a book, and wondered what their physical manifestation might look like, this is your chance to find out. If you want to know why it deserves to be called one of the seven wonders of the modern world, this is your chance. If you want to know why the words ‘monument’ and ‘monumental’ are used for certain things, this is your chance to discover how perfectly aptly these fit this architectural wonder. Go and see it, touch it, feel it, walk around it, and gaze at its beauty. Do it urgently. Do it now.
My father used to use a Marathi saying to describe it: इतका भव्य की टोपी पडेल बघणार्याची! (so grand that your hat’d fall off by itself). I think he was on the money on this one.
As an aside: My father was in 106 Squadron, then stationed at Agra and tasked with aerial photography (I used to ask him if he ever flew over Pakistan or China as a spy plane pilot; as an answer, he’d wink, point to his trusty Dakota, and tell me she was capable of every feat imaginable), of which they did extensive practice runs over the Taj Mahal. He used to have dozens of hauntingly beautiful photographs of the monument from the air (and the Yamuna was quite different in the 1970s) none of which I have found during my recent forays into sorting his stuff out. Maybe I’ll find some later. For now, here’s one he took (they also had to develop it themselves in those days), and here’s him as a young Sqn Ldr with his CO, Wg Cdr Thomas, with the Avro (on which he converted in 1978) in the background.
By the way, Agra used to be beautiful too. Sadly, no longer. The town and the river have gone. Only the mausoleum is left. That too will not last. Go, see it before it vanishes into thin air, either through man-made pollution or man-made hate.
