I don't want to come off as negative, and I certainly don’t want to discourage anyone from traveling to any of the places I’ve been to so far, but I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve noticed that a lot of travel guides tend to candy-coat their reviews (for example, cuisine that Lonely Planet describes as "uninspired" I often consider “unpalatable”), but this isn’t a featherweight journey, and I’m not wearing kid gloves. The overnight train from Varanasi wasn’t a good setup for my arrival in Agra. What was supposed to be a 12-hour trip turned into a 20-hour crawl, much of the time spent motionless in the middle of nowhere. Traveling 2nd-class this time, it was hard to sleep due to the frequency of cockroaches crawling on me and the stained linens in my sleeping berth. Soon after we’d left the station, two Kalashnikov-carrying soldiers told me to put my name and address down on a sheet of paper reading; “Tourist Poisoning Contact Sheet: In Case of Poisoning”. I asked, “So, this happens often enough that you have a form for it?” They just smiled.
From what I’d heard and read, Varanasi was supposed to be my most difficult destination in India, but unlike Varanasi, Agra does not host many different kinds of people visiting for many different reasons…almost all of Agra’s arrivals are here to see one thing, and lots of locals are eager to exploit that for cash. Any static soul on the street, anyone who isn’t on their way to do something, is trying to get your attention. Some are offering genuine goods and services…meals, taxis…others are demanding money for reading a sign that you read thirty seconds before, or pointing you in the direction of the Taj Mahal, which you were already walking towards because it dominates the skyline.
However, the Taj Mahal is definitely worth the hassle. Most of you probably already know the story behind its construction, but I’ll offer a quick recap:
Shah Jahan was part of a dynasty that was arguably the greatest in the history of India, the Mughals. The Mughals had their roots in Persia (modern day-Iran), and were Muslim by definition, but generally tolerant of other faiths. This was particularly true of Shah Jehan’s grandfather, Akbar, who had three wives…one Hindu, one Muslim, and one Christian.
It was in 1631 that Shah Jahan’s second wife, Mumtaz Mahal, died during the birth of their 14th child. The Shah was absolutely devastated. In her honor, he commissioned the greatest structure ever built out of heartbreak. Using more than 20,000 laborers from as far away as Europe, he poured unfathomable riches into constructing an enormous white marble mausoleum dedicated to his lost love. However, the expense would be more than his court could bear, and he was overthrown by his son, Aurangzeb, shortly after its completion. For the remainder of his life, Aurangzeb kept Shah Jahan imprisoned in a tower at nearby Agra Fort, where he was only allowed to witness his monument from a window. It wasn’t until Shah Jahan’s death in 1666 that he was laid to rest beside his beloved.
I woke up to darkness so that I could watch the sunrise over the Taj Mahal. I had to purchase my entry ticket the day prior in order to do this. It was a good decision, because the weather was perfect, and the crowds were small. But much more than this, watching the dawn paint the alabaster alcoves was absolutely unforgettable. I’m not usually one for loitering, but I lingered long in the tomb, soaking in the greatest single masterpiece of Indian architecture.
After returning for an “uninspired” breakfast on the roof of my hotel (which fortunately features a view of the Taj) I finally found a trustworthy 22 year-old tuk-tuk driver named Babi. Because he wasn’t trying to take me anywhere I didn’t want to go, I was happy to pay a little extra to keep him in my employ for the entire day. First he brought me to Agra Fort, the greatest of all the Mughal citadels, and the residence of many a Mughal king, which I enjoyed a lot more than I expected. Besides the impressive layout, I was also able to view the Taj from the place where Shah Jahan was kept under house arrest by his son. On the way to our next stop, Bobby’s 12 year-old nephew Sajit joined us for the ride. We went to the tomb of Itmad-Ud-Daulah, the grandfather of Mumtaz Mahal…a place nicknamed the “Baby” Taj. Although not nearly as massive as his granddaughter’s grave, it was the first Mughal structure made from white marble, and the detail in the design is more intricate. I was captivated by the pietra dura carvings, complimented by mosaics inlaid with precious stones. After a brief stop at the gardens on the opposite bank of the Yamuna River from the Taj Mahal, Babi brought me back to my hotel.
Agra is subject to frequent power outages, so trying to relax in an air-conditioned room while watching the IPL Cricket Tournament can be frustrating. Eventually, I went outside, found Babi and Sajit hanging by his tuk-tuk on the street, and asked him to take me to a restaurant where I could get some good Indian food. He brought me to a place called “Indiana” where I laughably explained the correlation with the Hoosier State. Although Babi and Sajit were content to wait on me outside, I felt bad for them, and invited them to join me for dinner. I bought a sampler meal, and we all had a nice time. It was fun getting to know Babi and Sajit, who’s 58 year-old father still works laboriously pedaling a bicycle rickshaw. Because I really liked Babi, and didn’t have any solid plans for my last day in Agra, I struck a deal with him to meet me the next morning and take me to the ruins of Fatehpur Sikri, some 30 miles away.
Fatehpur Sikri is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and was the primary palace of Akbar. When Akbar came to the nearby village of Sikri to meet the Sheikh Salim Chishti, the Sufi Muslim saint predicted the birth of a male heir. When the prophecy came true with the birth of Jahangir (Shah Jehan’s father), Akbar decided to move his capital to a ridge above the town. Women hoping for children still make pilgrimages to the tomb of the saint Sheikh Salim Chishti in the adjacent mosque. The fortress was nice, and possesses great views of the surrounding plains, but the attention from begging kids, coupled with the time it takes to get there, detracted greatly from the experience. On the way back, Babi did his best to avoid the roaming herds of cattle in the road, and the all-too-common traffic jams. Rolling down a bumpy dirt road, Babi said, “Problem”, I said, “With the motor?” and he said “No”, and began steering back and forth to no avail. Stopped on the side of a dusty country lane, we worked on fixing the busted steering column. It was the second time on this trip that I was glad I brought my Swiss Army Knife.
Thankfully, we were back on the road in no time, and on the way even stopped by Akbar’s tomb, about ten miles outside of the city. With a couple of hours to spare, I invited Babi out for another Indiana dinner before he brought me to the train station.
Like I mentioned earlier, I would never discourage a visit to Agra, and especially not the Taj Mahal. But having seen every tourist site in the area, I wouldn’t recommend staying for more than a day or two, as the city itself has been my least favorite burgh so far. Still, I really enjoyed hanging out with Babi and Sajit, and remain awe-struck by the Taj Mahal.
Now, I’m back in Delhi after a long ride as a coach passenger in a crowded railcar. I’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning to spend my last week on the Subcontinent in the Himalayan foothills of Uttarakhand (also called Uttaranchal) province. When you hear from me next, I should be along the headwaters of the Ganges in either the holy city of Haridwar, or the birthplace of Yoga, Rishikesh.
