Written Wednesday, the day after Super Tuesday.

This post is way overdue, and I figured that today, the day I woke up and realized that yesterday actually happened, I needed to focus on something other than the horror show of an election my country has just endured. And what better to focus on than one of the greatest monuments to love ever built?

My mom came to visit us in India three weeks before her 70th birthday. As a celebration of such a milestone we wanted to do something BIG and memorable. So of course we decided to take her to the Taj Mahal, as what could be more quintessentially Indian? Many tourists make the loop between Jaipur, Delhi, and Agra, the Golden Triange, all in one trip. However, with my recent debacle in Jaipur, we cut off 1/3 of this triangle, and instead decided to only visit Delhi and Agra.

I promise not to bore you with too much history, but very, very briefly, the Taj Mahal, which is Persian for “crown of palaces,” and known as the ‘monument of love’ was commissioned by Shah Jahan in 1631 for his 3rd wife Mumtaz Mahal who died giving birth to their 14th child. It is located in the city of Agra, which is about 3.5 hours away by car from Delhi and the closest airport. The myths surrounding the Taj suggest that Shah Jahan actually killed Mumtaz’s husband so that he could marry her, and many believe that Shah Jahan was building a Black Taj for himself directly across the Yamuna river from the original as a mausoleum for himself. Apparently he was absolutely obsessed with symmetry, which can be seen in every aspect of the Taj and its campus.

Beauty. Grace. Timelessness. Artistry. Love. Damn.

Evie was spot-on when she said, “The Taj looks golden in this light, Mom.” Originally we had planned to see the Taj in the first light of day as is recommended, however, we discovered when we arrived in Delhi that the Taj is closed on Fridays (only the mosque on the property is open for prayer). So instead of driving the 3.5 hours from Delhi to Agra, going to bed, and hitting the Taj first thing in the morning, we drove to Agra, checked into the hotel, and went immediately to the Taj at about 2pm. This ended up working out beautifully because we were there to see the light change as the sun started thinking about setting. The marble changed from a bright white (or as bright white as a monument built 368 years ago can be living in the pollution of an Indian city) to the lightly toasted golden color that can be seen in the picture above.

Getting to the Taj from the main street was a short hike through an urban jungle of dusty road, underfed kids in dirty clothing desperately trying to sell souvenirs to tourists (which, despite rumors of gang association we bought tons of), hot sun, cows, and big cameraed tourists from all over the world. And at the end of the road we arrived at Disney Worldesque ride-line dividers separating the men from the women and children. We paid up for the better tickets, which provided us with a shorter line and a bottle of water, but like everyone else we also had the privilege of being groped by a female security guard as we passed through the security check point. Literally felt up. Both my mom and I. Fortunately, the girls were spared.

There are other buildings on the Taj campus other than the magnificent white marble mausoleum, which I wasn’t expecting. I thought we’d go through security and there would be the long reflecting pool and the Taj itself. Fortunately, the builders and architects knew what they were doing. The other buildings, 3 gates/entrances, and archways are rust red in color, which have the effect of making the Taj look that much more holy and other-worldly. These gates and other buildings were like the opening band that enhances the anticipation of the main event. It was at these outer buildings that we encountered the first requests for photos with the gals, but certainly not the last. (How could it be that even at the freaking Taj Mahal our kids were getting so much attention?)

As our guide was telling us the history of the 3 different gates leading to the Taj property we came upon a large archway. As we were herded along through the archway by the crowd the Taj came into view directly in front of us. There were so many people, but it didn’t matter, I wasn’t annoyed. I was elated and actually got goosebumps. We could see the hands of everyone in front of us waving in the air, as excited as we were to catch the first glimpse of the Taj, but somehow all the hands and bodies just enhanced the view.

 

We did the usual tourist photos of the kids on a bench with the Taj behind them, toured the gorgeous mausoleum itself to the see the tombs of Mumtaz Mahal and Shah Jahn, checked out the intricate carvings on every surface, but what was most astonishing was that first glimpse of something so well-knowns that I thought it certainly could not have a strong impact when experienced in person. But it did. It’s beauty was overwhelming, and to share it with thousands of people from all over the world was a unifying experience. It was something that we all had in common, no matter what we looked like or where we were from—our desire to experience the beauty and serenity of this most magnificent of monuments.

The other 1/3 of the Golden Triangle was Delhi. It is a large city with overwhelming poverty and wealth. The area we stayed was where many governmental officials live, and it was pristine with well tended green trees and no trash anywhere. I was so in shock by how clean it was that I mentioned it to our driver, and he seemed confused. I understood the origin of his confusion once I saw other sections of the city. Old Delhi was a chaotic market place, similar to China Town in NYC, but much more crowded and dirty. We rode around town in rickshaws and stuck out like the tourists we were. The rickshaw bikers were so completely competent in the bustle of Old Delhi foot and car traffic, even though Evie and I held on for dear life. (Masan, as usual, was much more confident, and Mia kept yelling, “Faster!”).

Another beautiful monument we visited was Mahatma Ghandi’s memorial, Raj Ghat. A black marble platform marks the spot he was cremated the day after his assassination, and a flame burns eternally at one end. The memorial was built by the Japanese, who expressed wanting to do something in Ghandi’s memory after his death, and it shows. It was a simple, peaceful, yet powerful memorial, which seemed to perfectly mirror Ghandi’s message and legacy.

Of course it wasn’t all love and peace on this trip with my mom, Dan and 3 small kids. It was a ton of work getting to Delhi by plane, driving to Agra, driving back to Delhi, and flying home to Bangalore. It was a whirlwind, and at times I wanted to cry. Especially on the flight home from Delhi, which despite the late hour, no one but my mom slept on. Mia was a disaster by the time we finally landed, but the experience of this memorable trip was so worth the hassle.

I feel so honored that we have this amazing chance to show the kids how big and beautiful and complex the world is. Hopefully this realization will help them have an appreciation for cultures and people who are so different from them, and will create a life-long passion for exploration and more importantly, excessive tolerance for differences.