The wi fi signal in the hotel is marginally better, so I have returned to the previous post, Amber Fort, and added more photos to the gallery.
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Immediately after breakfast we drove to the Taj Mahal. Authorities have placed a one-kilometre exclusion zone around it for all petrol-fuelled vehicles in an effort to reduce the harm from pollution. The way thick black smoke spreads from the factory chimneys over here, one wonders whether these anti-pollution measures have gone far enough or whether other tighter controls are needed. In recent years newspaper stories have reported damage to the marble dome from chemical pollutants reacting with rainwater.
The final one kilometre stretch was covered in a battery powered van. Security is very tight at the Taj Mahal. Men and women queue up in separate lines and pass through airport scanners. All backpacks are scanned and many are opened and the contents scrutinised thoroughly by military personnel. I was carrying a first aid kit in my backpack. Before arrival I had removed the small pair of scissors and the cough lozenges because last year these had been the source of an argument. Eventually they had allowed them to pass through on the promise that I would not remove them from the bag unless absolutely necessary. Our companions on the 2013 trip, Appleby College from Canada, had their school flag removed – authorities do not want extremist groups flying their flags in front of national monuments and therefore all flags are banned. This year it was an epipen in the first aid kit that raised their eyebrows. It took some explaining before that was shoved right to the bottom of the bag with a warning not to remove it before it was allowed through.
Just when I thought everything would be approved the woman reached deep into my backpack and pulled out a newspaper covered plastic tube that I had forgotten was in there. She asked me what it was. I explained that it was a small painting of an elephant I had bought in Jaipur. ‘No paintings,’ she said. ‘But it’s just a souvenir. I promise not to open it,’ I countered. She tore one end of the newspaper and peered in at the rolled up paper inside. No colour was visible – she could see only brown paper. This helped, as she decided that this particular painting would pose no threat. ‘Keep this at the bottom of your bag,’ she told me and I was through. While I stuffed everything back in my bag I glanced back to see three or four of our students also explaining the contents of their bags. In time, we all passed through and headed towards the imposing East Gate entrance.
There are three entrances to the Taj Mahal – gates to the east, south and west. Immediately to the north of the structure is the Yamuna River, another of India’s major sacred rivers. Taj means ‘crown’ and Mahal means ‘palace’. It takes its name from the dome which was shaped like the crowns worn by India’s ruling Mughals at the time. Its name is not entirely appropriate, as it has never been a palace. It is a mausoleum. The emperor Shah Jahan built it to house the tomb of his beloved wife Mumtaz. She died at the age of 39 during the birth of her fourteenth child. He was deeply devoted to her and wanted to build a structure that would represent the love he felt for her. He summoned architects from afar to submit designs, and it was an architect from Turkey whose proposal was selected.
Work began in 1631 and was completed in 1653. Twenty thousand workers took seventeen years to build the main structure and another five to build the surrounding walls and entrance gates. The fine white marble was brought from over 400 kilometres away on carts pulled by oxen and elephants. There were no roads as we know them today, so bringing the massive marble slabs to this site must have been a feat to behold.
Only six of Shah Jahan and Mumtaz’s children survived their births – four sons and two daughters. The third son, Aurangzeb, was reputed to be a cruel man. He wanted the crown for himself, but it was to be passed to the eldest son, so he had his other three brothers killed. He gained the support of the military leaders and overthrew his father. Shah Jahan was placed under house arrest in the nearby Agra Fort. From his prison he could look across the river to the beautiful monument he had built to his wife – that is, until his eyesight failed. After that time they implanted a diamond in his cell wall and he could only look at the reflection of the Taj in the diamond. Aurangzeb moved his seat of power to Delhi and this allowed Shah Jahan’s daughter in Agra to arrange for his remains to be placed in the Taj alongside those of his wife upon his death. Shah Jahan’s architect had completed plans for a full sized black marble replica to be built across the river as his own monument. Work was started, but never completed after his son imprisoned him. Today we could see one small tower and some of the foundation work for the black Taj Mahal across the river.
The one moment where your breath is literally taken away on this trip is the instant that you enter the East Gate and catch your first glimpse of the Taj Mahal framed by the symmetry of the gate. It is so much bigger than you perhaps imagined, and the contrast of the stark white marble against the blue sky is striking. In the foreground are shallow pools of water, manicured green lawns and tree-lined avenues. In the sky black kites, the Indian birds of prey, constantly circle. As our tour group came upon this vista you could hear the small gasps and expressions of amazement and delight. The cameras and phones came out immediately. There were hundreds of people at the entrance gate and almost all of them were doing exactly the same thing – taking photos. Those who weren’t taking photos were posing for photos.
We engaged a photographer to take our group photo with the Taj as our backdrop. He met us later with a glossy print for each member of the team. As we approached the monument we were required to don shoe covers over our footwear, somewhat similar to the hair nets worn by food workers. It’s a good thing that they are taking measures like this to protect the Taj Mahal now, but you are still permitted to walk up to the relief designs and inlaid semi-precious stones on its walls and run your hands all over them. Photography is no longer permitted inside the mausoleum, though this was no deterrent for many people who kept clicking away despite harsh words from the guards. When I first visited the Taj thirty years ago we were able to walk right up to the marble coffins but today there is a fence that restricts you from doing this. The crush of visitors upon entering the tomb is so great that one soldier uses his whistle like a traffic cop at a busy intersection while his gruff companion orders people to keep moving and barks at anyone who stands still waiting for other members of their group to catch up. You walk anti-clockwise around a marble screen that surrounds the marble coffins of Mumtaz and her husband, peering at them through the lacework that has been created from the marble. The coffins are richly decorated with precious and semi-precious stone inlay. These, by the way, are not the real coffins. They are exact replicas. The bodies actually lie in their coffins about three metres below where we walk.
Our students shuffled around the inside of the dome, taking it all in. Aside from peering at the coffins, they looked up at the perfectly constructed inner dome and the beautiful blue Persian tiles on the wall. A door took them through into other rooms and passageways. Guards were everywhere, always alert for people stopping to raise their cameras.
Back in the open air we circled the outside of the building, stopping every now and then for photos or just to look up and take it all in. The shoe covers were removed and we wandered back along the path through the gardens. Most members of the team took the opportunity to grab one last photo before leaving. It was a visit that I hope our students will remember for many years.
Once back on the bus our guide instructed the driver to take us to a shop. This time it was a marble ware shop. The artisans here are reputed to be the direct descendants of those who originally did such beautiful work on the Taj. It sounds feasible, as all tourists who come here over the years will be tempted to buy some small memento of the clean white marble and the colourful stone inlay that the monument is famous for. Working with marble and semi-precious stones is likely to be a trade that has been passed down within families through the generations in this city. We were treated to a demonstration at the store entrance of how the marble was scratched away, how the stones were cut to shape and filed flat, and how they were glued into position. Inside the emporium objects of great beauty and no doubt of even greater expense surrounded us. Marble tabletops costing tens of thousands of dollars lined one wall. Once our kids had inquired about the prices of one or two small objects and baulked at the cost, they were ushered into a back room where small white marble elephants were going at a fairly inexpensive rate. You can’t stop at one shop, so we were taken to one more and, of course, more money changed hands. The guide offered me the chance to visit a third – he seemed a little surprised when I declined the invitation.
The Agra Fort was the place from where the Mughal emperor Akbar the Great ruled. It is a mighty structure, built with the deep red sandstone that is quarried in Rajasthan. Such is the quality of the construction from centuries ago, that a large part of the fort is restricted to the public and is still used as barracks for the Indian Army today. Although we had seen quite a few forts and palaces in the preceding days, this one was popular with our team. Everyone enjoyed the view of the Taj Mahal from here, just a few kilometres distant. It is the same view that Shah Jahan must have had when his son first imprisoned him here. The students also appreciated the quality of the workmanship of the stonemasons who built this fort, with some courtyards featuring particularly ornate decorative work.
We didn’t leave Agra until mid-afternoon, but there is a new six-lane divided toll road all the way to Delhi that cuts the journey to about three hours. It’s smooth travelling all the way as there are no camel carts or other such vehicles on this road to hinder your progress. Early on, we passed through fields of grain. We could see farmers in the fields harvesting and winnowing the crops by hand. This is hardly an efficient form of agriculture that is going to provide enough food for the masses of India in the future. Students at The Ridgeway have recently been studying food security and trying to answer questions about how we will have to adapt the places where food is grown and the methods we use to grow it in order to feed our growing numbers in the near future. Watching the Indian farmers at work must surely have raised a few more questions. In the second half of the journey the grain fields gave way to row upon row of stacked clay bricks drying in the sun, cut from the earth on both sides of the road. At regular interviews the tall chimneys of the brick factories belched black smoke into the air. The smog haze was thick here. Approaching Delhi we passed numerous high-rise residential blocks, most of them still under construction. It seems this is the city’s response to the large numbers of people who are flocking to the city from the countryside.
Although it took three hours to reach Delhi from Agra, it took half that time again to reach our hotel once we hit the outskirts of the capital. We struggled in heavy peak hour traffic for much of that time as we made our way to the other side of the city. Our hotel is near the airport, so our departure on Wednesday morning should present no such problems.
And finally, Happy Birthday to Matt Nakulski, who celebrated his 15th birthday at the Taj Mahal. We all enjoyed a slice of rich chocolate birthday cake for dessert tonight.
Ivanhoe to India 2014 