The Taj Mahal

After our last bus experience to Varanasi, we figured this time we would take a sleeper train to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. Such a better deal. We had full beds to sleep on as we traveled overnight to Agra. The trains were definitely the way to travel. No winding curves, bumps in the roads, or other objects to run into, at least that I knew of. Despite our peaceful travels we all woke up the next morning feeling a bit under the weather. We knew we only wanted to be in Agra for a day to see the Taj Mahal, so we booked our next ticket to Jaipur immediately so that there would be no hassles getting out of Agra. Being that we arrived at 6am, we had to wait in line for an hour for the ticket offices to open. This was fine with us; we had all day to see the Taj Mahal. What we didn’t realize is there really is no such thing as a line in India. You don’t wait courteously behind your neighbor, or offer the old lady with a limp a place in front of you. Instead, you try to box out the old ladies like Shaquille O’Neal at a playoff game because they are ruthless and will cut in front of you without even looking at you. We quickly realized this and used our luggage and our bodies as barriers to keep out the others as they were literally pushing, shoving and throwing their info slips and money at the ticket master. trying to get a ticket.

Tickets go quick in India, and the cliché saying, “You snooze, you lose” is definitely true at the ticket counters here. Luckily we locked down our ride to Jaipur and even though we left the train station feeling a bit violated, I can honestly say it wasn’t a completely bad experience. It sort of brought out my competitive side and became more of a challenge or game than anything else. Something I haven’t felt since playing Water Polo in Guam.

We ended up getting very lucky finding a rikshaw driver because he ended up being a very genuine guy. Something unheard of among rikshaw drivers. We told him we needed to use the internet, go to the ATM and then head over to the Taj Mahal. Any other rikshaw driver would have over priced the drive by double and would have probably taken us to all of his friend’s shops instead. Luckily though, our rikshaw driver was a good guy and told us that today was the only day of the year that if you go to the Taj Mahal before 10am, you get to get in free due to the Muslim holiday that allows people of all class and cast to afford visiting this glorious structure for a religious ceremony that takes place from 7am to 10am. Being that it was already 9:30am we told the driver to book it over to the Taj so we could take advantage of this free entry.

Normally there is $15.00 entrance fee for tourists, which may not seem like that much, but in India, that is a two week stay at a guesthouse or roughly a week’s worth of food or a train ticket nearly anywhere in India or enough money to buy even the coolest souvenirs. Basically we were ecstatic to be getting into the Taj Mahal for free. It is weird how our mindsets change from country to country. In India if someone is trying to sell you something they start by doubling the price and then working it down if the tourist is savy enough. If not, then they just doubled their profit. I have noticed in haggling with vendors that even though I can get the price down to way below half of what they are asking, that even those last couple hundred Rupes, which is really only a few bucks in all reality is still important. I am not sure if it is because I don’t want to get ripped off, or if it is a challenge to see how low I can actually get them to go, or maybe I’m just cheap. I’m not really sure, but from vegetables at the market to buying a scarf at a silk shop to getting ride from a rikshaw, the three of us might be the few travelers that actually pay close to what the locals are paying. Maybe.

Walking through the metal detector, through the archway leading into the courtyard before the Taj Mahal, we could see a heard of people exiting. We had made it just before 10am and the religious ceremony had apparently just let out when we were entering. Making our way from the courtyard, through yet another archways leading to where the massive area where the Taj Mahal sat was chaotic and quite dangerous to say the least. As hundreds and hundreds of Muslims tried to leave, they completely congested what was supposed to be both an entry way and exit. I thought the lines in the train station were bad, this was just plain barbaric as I could feel the force of a hundred people pushing me one way, while another hundred were apposing. Barely making it through, sweating, out of breath and mildly timorous from what had just occurred, I had been separated from Ryan and Kelli. I was actually worried about them getting through there, especially Kelli. Relieved to finally see them come through the intricate archway, we all looked at each other like, “what the hell just happened”.  The next day I would read in the news paper that 16 people were trampled to death at a similar religious gathering for the same Muslim holiday near the Agra River. 

Our minds quickly were distracted from what had just happened by the pure flawlessness of what lay before us. The Taj Mahal stuck out like the most beautiful finger among a hand full of sore thumbs. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. It didn’t even look real! I’ve read about it in my history books, seen tons of pictures of it through my friends and through traveling, but now as it transcended before me, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was just so perfect, so picturesque, so awe-inspiring.  It was the most beautiful man-made structure I have ever seen with my own eyes. There was no comparison. This was it. The three of us just stood there, silent, in complete awe, and we were still a few hundred yards away from it. Eager to touch the thing to ensure its reality, we raced up to it clicking our cameras as fast as we could, stopping and posing for a few along the way, but as we came before it, we were able to comprehend just how mammoth this building was. Taking our shoes off as a sign of respect, we stepped foot on the solid marble floor and proceeded up to the solid, marble structure. Placing my palm on the shaded marble, it was cool to the touch on my skin. As I looked straight up, jaw ajar to the fullest, my mind now had to believe that what was before was in fact real, but it didn’t. After strolling through the inside of the building, snapping a few photos of the tombs that the king had built for his queen, Ryan and I began to analyze it. We walked around it several times, trying to find the slightest flaw or imperfection. There was none. It was perfectly symmetrical in every way. We finally sat parallel to it in complete and utter amazement.

We spoke about how such a beautiful building could stand among the poorest, rundown neighborhoods.  How so much time, money, man power, went into building such a colossal edifice, yet the poverty encompassing it was that of the most extreme. Puzzled we sat there, still in awe of the building. We finally came to the conclusion that this is India. Plain and simple. No excuse or logical explanation. Just that this is India (TII). Same justification as to why there are no lines, why people use the street as a bathroom, why nobody moves the cows in the street that cause car accidents and traffic jams. This is India. This phrase became a pretty common saying to us as we would go about our travels in India. It was just easier to chalk up the idiosyncrasies of this beautifully baffling land.

After experiencing the Taj Mahal, our slight sickness that we had in the morning was turning out to be nothing but slight. That delicious street food we had had the day before in Varanasi was taking a turn for the worst as we slowly began deteriorating. Getting back to the train station, we were going to wait in the station so that we wouldn’t miss our early morning train to Jaipur, but now as we couldn’t cease from running to the restroom every 20 minutes, we knew we need a room for the night.

Barely making it to a nearby guesthouse, we all felt flu type symptoms and extremely weak. Setting the alarm for 4am to catch our 5am train, we all tried falling asleep to the sounds of each other’s groans and grovels. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The train ride to Jaipur was painful to say the least. Not a fun experience as we sat coach, crammed into a small train car with nearly a hundred people. Arriving exhausted, sick and in terrible moods, we looked for the nearest rikshaw driver to take us to a nice quiet guesthouse that we could recover at. Piling in, luggage and all, we set off for what hopefully was a safe haven for recovery.