Agra: Hijacked at the Taj Mahal

(Continued from Agra: Journey to the Taj Mahal)

Featured Photo: “Taj Mahal – Morning Light Reflection”  Agra, India—2011

Approaching the Great Gate, I looked up at its gorgeous ornamentation: intricate calligraphy, geometric designs, and flowers sprouting on graceful vines…

…then continued on until the Taj came fully into view.

Described by one Bengali poet as “a teardrop on the face of eternity”, the Taj Mahal is undoubtedly the zenith of Mughal architecture. Overlooking the Yamuna River and following a distinctly Islamic theme representing Paradise, the tomb of Mumtaz Mahal stands at the northern end of the walled charbagh, an expansive, park-like garden divided into four quadrants by raised marble waterways and walkways.

I pushed past my fellow gawkers for an unobstructed look at one of the Seven “New” Wonders of the World, viewed along one of its waterways.

I reframed the shot, zooming in for a closer view…

…then took a few steps to my right to capture today’s Featured Photo of the Taj Mahal. I started walking toward the massive mausoleum while the morning sunlight was still soft, following the crowd along the left pathway.

The magic of the Tal Mahal is strangely undiminished by the crowds of tourists who visit, seeming as small and insignificant as ants in the face of the immense mausoleum. That said, the monument is at its most alluring in the relative quiet of early morning, shrouded in mist and bathed with a soft red glow. As its vast marble surfaces fall into shadow or reflect the sun, it’s color changes, from soft gray and yellow to pearly cream and dazzling white.

Midway to the mausoleum, I stopped beside the large marble Lotus Pool and took another close-up shot of the Taj. I began to grasp its enormous size, with ant-sized people in the far distance, standing at the railing of the high platform near the entrance to the towering tomb.

I turned back to look at the entrance gate, whence I’d just come, and was again struck by the lilliputian onlookers.

I took one more photo of the mausoleum with its reflection before climbing the steps to the raised platform by the pool.

I’d just taken a nice, unobstructed photograph of the Taj…

…and was about to take another when I heard a voice above the indistinct noises around me. Little did I suspect that my sight-seeing was about to be hijacked.

“Would you like me to take your picture?” He flashed a friendly smile and held out his hand. I hadn’t seen him approach; I’d been completely caught off guard. “Umm…sure,” I replied hesitantly, then handed over my camera and walked where he was pointing.

For this trip, I’d left my bulky and expensive D-SLR camera at home; otherwise, it was that camera that would have been hanging around my neck. Instead, I’d purchased a relatively inexpensive but high-quality, pocket-sized camera, to appear less obvious a tourist.

I realized this was futile—a fair-skinned American amidst the Indian population—but it made me less apprehensive as my new personal paparazzo and tour guide framed his first shot. It turned out he was pretty good with a camera. He snapped one photo…

…then told me to kneel. I did as he commanded and could only assume the purpose was so I wouldn’t block the beautiful building in the background.

He walked me to another spot and took this close-up: I was holding the bag with water and shoe covers, arms crossed defiantly, but with a bemused look on my face, since he was still in possession of my camera.

He successfully captured this touristy shot of me grasping the Taj Mahal’s dome between my pinched fingers…

…but was less effective in a later attempt. As I posed, he kept telling me to bring my hands closer together, but I had no idea what result he was trying to achieve. This became clear when I later looked at the picture he’d eventually taken. Apparently, I was supposed to be cradling the two towering minarets in the palms of my upturned hands. Epic fail.

After 20 minutes of this photo-shoot, he handed my camera back and said, “Follow me. If we hurry, the morning light will still be good.” I was unsure I wanted to go with him, so I lingered and snapped another picture of the Taj. Then he repeated, “Come on.” And so, I did. He walked quickly and I trailed along, trusting he would lead me to the best photo-ops for that time of day. I still paused once or twice to catch the view as we progressed.

Even though he stopped with me, my guide motioned that we should keep going. We reached a corner of the raised platform, on which the Taj is built, alongside two of the minaret towers…

…and it seemed we were headed toward the smaller structure to the right of the marble mausoleum. We climbed onto the lower platform, and I saw that the travel books—and my new personal guide—had been right about the lighting…

…the Taj was aglow in the golden hue cast by the slanting morning sun as it ascended in the eastern sky.

(To be continued…)