Beneath a Marble Sky

Day Two in India began with an early breakfast and check-out.  We were on the road to Agra by eight a.m.  The road between Delhi and Agra is the new, modern Yamuna Expressway, a six-lane highway that just opened in 2012.  It loosely follows the path of the Yamuna River, which is second only to the Ganges in sacredness in India.  The first part of the highway was lined with the construction of ambitious new high-rises, and the seemingly out-of-place Buddh International Motor Race Circuit, the site of the annual Formula One Indian Grand Prix.  Then the construction gives way to plenty of countryside, with locals waiting at bus stops on the highway, and an occasional cow in the road.  The plains and farmland were sometimes reminiscent of rural Indiana, with fields of potatoes, wheat, rice and mustard.

A feature totally unlike Indiana is the towering smokestacks of the brick-making ovens.  They stand out in large fields with dark smoke bellowing from their tapering chimneys.  Some of them had stacks and stacks of red bricks laid out in the sun to bake, having been formed from straw and clay by the workers.  They are often entire families, with the children being trained to continue the work for generations.  We must have passed at least a hundred ovens on our three-hour drive to Agra.

I was reading the India Times that we picked up from the hotel as we traveled, and noticed an article about UP.  I mentioned to the guide that when I saw UP, I thought of the Upper Peninsula in Michigan, not Uttar Pradesh, the northern Indian state where Agra is located.  I told him how we call people from our UP "Yoopers."  He was quite amused by this name and said he would have to share it with the people here.  Wouldn't it be funny if that caught on in India?

Peepal tree

Coming into Agra, we could see that this was a smaller, more relaxed version of Delhi.  Same crazy traffic, albeit dialed down a bit.  The air here is cleaner as they are very protective of the Taj Mahal and try to control anything that might damage it.  Plenty of cows and monkeys can be seen along the roadsides, and the same incessant horn-honking.  With a population just under two million, it is still a large city.  We even passed a golf course, where our guide said only the rich and the military can afford to play.

Our guide pointed out what I thought he said was a "People Tree," another name for the sacred Banyan tree.  (I learned later the term is actually "Peepal Tree.")  This tree is sacred to Buddhists because it is said that Buddha was enlightened while sitting under a Banyan tree.  And Hindus believe the god Vishnu was born under the Banyan tree.  The leaves are used for religious ceremonies, and the leaves, bark, roots and fruit serve many medicinal purposes.

We checked into our hotel - the Radisson Blu Agra - not far from the Taj Mahal.  Our room wasn't ready yet, so we had an overpriced coffee and tea in the cafe while we waited.  We finally checked into our room that looked nice but had a strong mildew smell and a squishy-soft bed again.  Got cleaned up and found Shanoo waiting for us in the lobby.

We stopped for lunch at, where else, the Taj Mahal Restaurant.  This was another eatery popular with the tourists, and for good reason.  We were greeted at the door by a gentleman in traditional dress with an awesome mustache, and we enjoyed a delicious lunch.  I had Aloo Gobhi Masala, a dish of spicy cauliflower and potatoes, and Tim tried the Paneer Tikka, marinated cheese curd roasted in a tandoor.  Some more delicious naan and roti made this a meal we couldn't finish.





Then it was finally time for the main event - the beautiful Taj Mahal.  Our first glimpse of the Taj was across the river, where it seemed more like illusion than reality.  Shanoo warned us that security was very strict, and we couldn't bring electronic devices other than our cell phones.  If you want to bring a camera in (beside the cell phone), you have to pay a camera fee.  Well, we were suddenly at the front of the entrance and had to quickly get out of the car, so we grabbed what we thought was okay.  It was a hot, long walk to the main gate.  We passed rickshaws, horse carts and camel carts that would take you up to the gate for a fee.  Shanoo suggested that we catch a ride back instead.  We were ushered into a short line, with most people in a much longer line, and we wondered what was going on.  We learned that there is even a class system for entry into the Taj, according to how much you pay to get in.  Indians can get in for just twenty rupees but must wait in long lines.  Foreign tourists must pay 750 rupees (about twelve dollars), but are afforded a much easier time with short lines.  Indians must remove their shoes to go inside the Taj, foreign tourists may wear shoe covers, and are referred to as High Value Ticket Holders.

The first line took us to security where we were further divided into lines by gender, "wanded" and frisked, and our bags were scanned and searched.  I passed through with the camera without any problem.  Tim had his backpack and was thoroughly scrutinized, with the security team deciding that his book, The Signal and the Noise, and his crossword puzzles would not be allowed in.  Funny that they should focus on those innocuous items and ignore the Kindle in another pocket!  Our very accommodating guide graciously walked the books back to the entrance while Tim and I waited in the shade.  Next was the line to buy tickets, and again we bypassed the long line of nationals and quickly procured our needed tickets.  We walked through a large courtyard and sat under a tree while Shanoo gave us a primer on the history of the Taj Mahal.

We approached the Great Gate, which keeps the Taj Mahal hidden until you pass under it's ornate arches.  The view just inside the gate is breathtaking in the truest sense.  I was overcome with awe and had to remember to breathe.  It was like being in the presence of the most beautiful gem in the world.  Shah Jahan's desire for symmetry is evident everywhere, with patterned gardens, reflecting pools, and the perfection of the Taj Mahal itself.  To the left is a red sandstone and marble mosque, and to the right it's mirror image.

Hundreds of people were milling around, taking pictures, speaking in many different languages.  Shanoo asked if we wanted a professional to take some pictures for us, and Tim said yes.  So Shanoo called his contact who soon appeared, camera in hand.  We were suddenly in a full-on photo shoot, posing this way and that, sunglasses on and off.  What we thought would be a couple pictures became more than sixty over a span of maybe twenty minutes.  This guy knew all the best vantage points, and made sure people cleared the way to get us the best shots.  It was pretty amusing and fun, if more than a little awkward.  Made for some good souvenirs.

This is my favorite

Money shot, with Taj reflected in glasses

After our whirlwind photo shoot, including time on the "Diana bench," it was time to enter the Taj Mahal.  Again, two lines allowed us to slip on our shoe covers and step right up to the entrance.  Photos are not allowed inside, although many pulled their cell phones out for a furtive shot.  Up close you can admire the simple beauty of the precious and semi-precious stones inlaid in the perfect white marble.  The story goes that Shah Jahan persuaded the artisans to remain in Agra after completion of the Taj, to stop them from duplicating their work for anyone else.  Can't imagine this kind of time-intensive artistry being duplicated today on such a massive scale.

Each color is a different kind of gemstone

The inside was surprisingly small, with a center replica of Mumtaz's tomb and Sha Jahan's tomb off to one side; the real tombs are underground.  The irony is that he was very determined that everything be symmetrical, and his own tomb is the only thing that is not.  A huge chandelier hangs over the tombs, a gift from the British during their occupation of India.  Guards insisted that people keep moving while inside.  Shanoo asked for my mobile phone at one point to sneak this amazing shot of the Great Gate looking out from the Taj Mahal.

Once outside the Taj we were able to linger on the plaza facing the Yamuna, not wanting the experience to end.  We enjoyed pictures of the Taj as well as many faces in the crowd.

Back in the real world, we removed our shoe covers and headed for the exit.  Three young Indian men stopped us and asked if they could take our picture.  Our suspicious selves wondered if this was some kind of trick to pick our pockets or something, but cautiously agreed.  When we asked our guide about this later, he said many of the Indians at the Taj are visiting from more remote parts of the country where they never see white people except in the movies.  It seems we were something of a novelty.

We met back up with Shanoo's photographer who had an entire album of our photos printed and ready for us; they've got this down to a science.  We forewent the animal cart rides and walked the long walk back to the road where our driver was waiting for us.  

More to come...