Pushkar-Part 2, Agra, and Delhi

Gun posted some good stuff about Leh, but I wanted to do a little filling in so you could see what we've been up to...

Sept 27 – Pushkar

What a hike! Up to Pap Mochani Temple in the mid-day heat of desert India. While the temple itself was nothing more than a hollowed out shell, the view of Pushkar, Pushkar lake, and the surrounding desert and hills was fantastic. At the top was a young woman dressed in rural desert country garb. She was looking out at the horizon, and there was a certain beauty in the whole scene. The colors she was wearing, how she was perched on the hillside, how she was surveying at it all and seemed to take it all in. Then, she simply scurried down the mountain, not using the steep path that was created to ascend and descend, but simply on the slippy rock and dirt and brush of the very steep and very big hill. It was like she was part desert mountain goat-ess! I would've broken my neck, but she gracefully and lightly descended.

We leave Pushkar tonight on the sleeper train for Agra and the Taj Mahal.

Sept 28 – Agra

We slept in the uppermost bunks of the three-tiered bunk sleeper train. Everyone was stacked up like rungs on a ladder and the top bunk left me pretty much crushed up against the roof of the train. I'm short and all, but even I couldn't come close to sitting up straight. And of course, I slept with my pack in the bunk, which left me about 3 3/4 ft. lengthwise to “stretch out” on. It was one of those slightly slept nights, but still definitely much better than that crazy 16 hour bus trip!

We checked into the Shanti Guest House, a complete dive of a hotel, and had breakfast on the rooftop restaurant. The saving grace of Shanti Guest House is that the rooftop restaurant has the most amazing view of the Taj Mahal. And we sat gazing at it in the morning light. It was spectacular and we simply stared at it all through our eggs, toast, and chai.

After breakfast, we promptly checked out of the Shanti Guest House – total visit time: about one hour. When we saw that the toilet was leaking into the room upon flushing, that pretty much got us out of there, and fast. We had to draw the line at our hotel room being covered in raw sewage and smelling rank. I know, we're wimps.

Since The Taj (as it's commonly referred to) was closed on Fridays in order for Muslim worship, we visited the Agra Fort, the Itimad-Ud-Daulah (aka The Baby Taj), and Mehtab Barg where we could see the Taj by sunset.

Agra Fort was amazing. Red sandstone, white marble, a palace, a fort, a prison, a city within a city. Quoting wikipedia, "It is the most important fort in India. The great Mughals Babur, Humayun, Akbar, Jehangir, Shah Jahan and Aurangzeb lived here, and the country was governed from here. It contained the largest state treasury and mint. It was visited by foreign ambassadors, travelers, and the highest dignitaries who participated in the making of history in India." For more information on this beautiful structure along the river, visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agra_Fort.

Next was Itimad-Ud-Daulah. This beautiful tomb is considered the precursor to the Taj Mahal. The tomb, built for the Persian nobleman and wazir, Mizra Ghilyas Beg, this structure was the first Mugha structure totally built from marble and the first to make extensive use of the pietra dura, or small, exquisitely cut and fitted, highly-polished colored stones that create what amounts to a painting in stone.

The layout is such that, no matter the entrance at which you stand, the structure looks identical. I found the intricate inlay to be hypnotizing – repeating patterns of swirls, crisscrosses, diamonds... All meticulously and perfectly executed so that one is left with a sense of quiet awe and appreciation. I sat and just gazed at the structure as the late afternoon sun bathed the white marble and beautiful inlay with a soft gold and silver light. It was one of those moments – timeless, perfect, magic.

Mehtab Barg was next so that we could gaze at the Taj Mahal by sunset from the quiet of the public gardens. Metab Barg is an attempt to recreate a Mughal-style garden. The garden is laid out not so much like a garden as we know it, but instead like an orchard with the trees and the flower bushes meticulously lined up in patches. A fountain grounded the center of the orchard-garden. At the point where the garden meets the edge of the river is a space where it looks like someone started to build something, then gave up. There is some scuttlebutt that this space was the beginning of a Black Taj in echo of the White Taj across the river. This scuttlebutt, however, has yet to be substantiated. Perhaps it’s a lovely myth passed down to tourists to enhance the already great mystery of the Taj Mahal?

Like Itimad-Ud-Daulah, The Taj is perfectly replicated on every side so that no matter which side you see it from, you’re seeing the same thing. Now, if you’ve ever been in Las Vegas (I know it’s a sacrilege to mention The Taj and Vegas in the same sentence), you know that the scale of everything can get a little wonky. Buildings that you think are just “right over there” are really a 45 minute walk. The scale is so outrageous, all the hotels and casinos simply flatten out and seem to make up a picture that you can hang on your wall (OK, so I don’t want to hang a picture of The Strip on my wall, but you get my meaning). Well, that’s the The Taj. The structure is so spectacular that your mind begins to simply flatten it out in order to make sense of it. The whole scene of the The Taj, the sunset, the river, the clouds and sky, the birds circling the topmost dome – they all begin to simply look like the most gorgeous, spectacular postcard you’ve ever seen. It’s a strange sensation, but somehow doesn’t detract in any way from the experience. In fact, as soon as that illusion began to happen for me, the whole thing became even more amazing because I knew just what kind of scale we were talking about here… something so big and so incredible that my little mind simply couldn’t take in all of its wholeness.

Gunther and I talked with Captain Vijay (as he called himself), a retired military man who happened to be looking at The Taj and the sunset, like us. Capt. Vijay was a cheerful, friendly man who simply smiled, laughed, and tried to speak some English with us. One of the few times in India when a stranger wanted to talk with us without asking for something in return. I was grateful for his kindness in such a reverent place. Another magic moment provided by India.

Sept 29 – Agra

Early risers. Have to get to The Taj early, early to see the sunrise there. Little did I know that everyone else from out of town had the same exact idea. We arrived at the ticketing area and were greeted by throngs of people – Indian and European tour groups, street vendors of all kinds, money changers, etc. Hundreds of people wanting to get into The Taj at opening time. I’ve mentioned before, I think, the incredible lack of infrastructure in India. This includes everything from 24/7 power to trash collection to lines/queue-ing. The “line” for gaining an entry ticket for The Taj was complete chaos – not a line so much as a big, huge bunch. The standard Indian method of simply pushing and elbowing your way to the front of the line was in full effect. People shoving, jabbing, and even a brief fist fight breaking out.

Upon reaching the front of the line after about an hour of waiting, we saw that there were only two ticket counters. Two?? I mean, hey kids, this is the TAJ MAHAL, here. Perhaps creating several more ticket windows would behoove you? (end rant… ok, I’m lying, more ranting is ahead, I’m afraid.) Next were the security lines. Yes, absolutely, security needs to be really excellent for the Taj Mahal. We don’t want any wackos blowing up the primary, existing wonder of the world – most definitely not. However, the line to get scanned and searched was an even bigger disaster than the ticket line. For ALL those people, there were again only two lines for the security check. Now let’s just get it out of the way here and now – our sun has completely risen and any wishes for a magical sunrise at The Taj are now only faint dreams fading into lost memory and harsh reality.

I really don’t have any hard feelings about this, despite my scathing description of the experience, so far. I suppose I’m just pointing out some real culture that happened during this whole experience. India is not a country of super efficiency, as is evidenced by this most famous landmark. In so many ways – more ways than I can describe – India is a foreign land and probably, for my money, one of the most odd and bizarre cultures ever (at least in my travel log).

At any rate, after the security official confiscated the package of cookies from my purse (were they exploding cookies? Perhaps! One can never be too careful about shortbread biscuits) I was finally granted access to this miracle of architecture and spirituality.

The place was p-a-c-k-e-d. I mean, wall to wall people. And that’s saying something considering how big this place was. Packed, and rightly so because it was beautiful. The fog had started to roll in, throwing a misty, dreamy effect on The Taj, the surrounding mosques, and the meticulously groomed grounds. As you can probably imagine, I have about 50+ pictures taken from every single angle I could find. The monument is absolutely incredible. How they built this with the tools and knowledge they had at the time astounds me.

I walked all around The Taj, seeing it from far away, with that tree in front, from this vantage point, up high, now down low, now from this mosque, and now from that one, now from the river, and so on and so on. Yet, I hesitated to enter into The Taj itself. Masses of people had begun to line up at the one small entrance. More pushing, more shoving, more yelling, sweating, farting, grunting. A wall of humans surging. After an elderly woman in a worn sari pushed her sharp little elbow into my ribs with some satisfaction, I finally entered the mausoleum. No light but the light filtering in from outside. The two graves – one for the Shah Jahan and one for his second wife, for whom he built the structure. Small graves, almost insignificant. Still the mass of people, pushing, shoving, scrambling on each other to see. Another fight, shouting, hitting… because an Indian man bent the rules by taking flash photos over, and over, and over again after being warned not to many times.

I have to say that my experience of The Taj was mixed. It’s hard to feel reverence, awe, and wonder when people are fighting, elbowing, surging, crowding. Maybe I need to broaden my view of what a spiritual experience is? A koan, if I’ve ever heard one.

But as I moved away from the mass, I found a quiet spot a bit away from the monument. A perfect little spot at a bench with the trees making a perfect picture frame of The Taj. Gunther has included it in this blog – the one with the lovely, moody fog surrounding it? This was My Perfect Taj Moment.

Then, having our fill of both the beauty and the unsightliness – we left the site.

However, you’d find us again that same day, back at theMehtab Barg (gardens), worshipping The Taj as the sun set in Agra. All was healed.

Sept 30 – Travel from Agra to Delhi
Not much to say about this day. We had a quick trip via train to Delhi and settled into our hotel in the neighborhood that I now lovingly refer to as “The Tenderloin” of Delhi (those in the Bay Area will know what I mean, and if you’re not from the Bay, try Googling “The Tenderloin San Francisco” and you’ll get the gist). We tripped around Delhi a bit, checking out The Tenderloin’s (aka Paharganj) various bazaars, visiting some public gardens in another part of town, and concluding the day with a lovely dance performance. Tomorrow, another travel day.