Journeys of my life

With the cold running through my naked feet from the chilling marble, numbed I stood in front of the huge mausoleum of love. It was not my first visit to Tajmahal but the last one I did was about 17 years ago. A self realization struck me; undoubtedly India is rich in heritage. Chilled breeze in my hair was a sign that we are near to Yamuna River. Standing in front of the Great gate, I ran my hands on the passages from Kuran carved beautifully on the exteriors. Calligraphy ran throughout the walls saying Persian poems in the memory of the princess. Detailed architecture work, flower carvings in marble, beautiful miniature paintings and semi-precious stones transformed creatively into flowers and vines across the walls was spellbinding. Somehow, among everything alluring and artistic, my inclination was to enter the main tomb. Leaving my co-passengers in the moment of awe and photographing, I slipped with the crowd inside the huge arch doorway. An eerie wind hit my face. There were the graves of Mumtaz and Shahjahan, A Mughal Emperor and Persian Princess, covered with false decorated sarcophagi. The feeling was beyond words. Even with the tourist crowd inside the tomb, I felt alone. Heard that Love has no boundaries, I experienced it the very first time. I stood there admiring two lovers inseparable even after death. Eternal love stories do exist.
My bewitchment ended. Two of my co-passengers frantically came in search of me. Time was running and we have to leave the place. Through the pathways between Charbagh gardens, we walked towards the exit gate. Only cribbing I heard around was time was less for this visit. Well, it is never enough time for any destination but my heart was content. I stepped out through the exit door carrying memories, not of the Taj but of two lovers. Indeed Tajmahal has to built for every never-ending love stories to remember.