The Taj Mahal has figured regularly in this month’s posts – for the marble and the delicate art forms that adorn it.
The precinct itself was crowded on the day we were there, even though our guide said that it wasn’t as bad as usual.
The beauty of the building itself is unquestioned. What was missing was the sense of solemnity due to such a place. Perhaps this is an artefact of the sheer weight of numbers of visitors (me amongst them) who travel through the environment; the ubiquitous security presence; the jostling of bodies entering and leaving the mausoleum; the scars where some of the semi-precious stones have been souvenired; and selfie-sticks!
It wasn’t quite the haven of serenity I had anticipated. Would that stop me from going again? Or recommending tht others not bother? Definitely not.
The Taj Mahal is iconic, emblematic of a cultural India, a symbol of love lost. For a hopeless romantic such as I, that resonates in its silence far more than the pounding of the thousands of feet.
It’s a beautiful place. Photographs don’t do it justice. They fail to capture the beautiful detail or the way the colour of the marble shifts in the afternoon sun.
It’s a spectacular place and well and truly worth the effort to experience it personally.
Princely Taj Mahal –
That beacon of life-love lost,
A death-cold beauty.