Tajmahal
“Tajmahal” by Kamala Vishnu Tilak
Translated from Marathi by Anuradha Sovani
The Taj Mahal, a poignant symbol of pathos, must have been a mute witness to so many heart rending sights; but the tragic events that unfolded on that day surely shattered its tender, marble heart.
A hapless young woman was standing at the outer gate of the monument. Her eyes were downcast as she stood with her back to that divine tribute to love. Tears, even more pure and innocent than the Tajmahal, flooded her eyes, unchecked. A crowd of gawkers gathered around her, heckling and taunting the helpless creature. They jeered and laughed at her state and some little hooligans even collected tiny red pebbles from the roadside and took aim at her as she cringed and stood there, tormented.
Suddenly, the crowd parted magically. A tall, dignified man came walking through and paused as he saw her. The heartrending sight of the defenseless young woman touched his kind soul as he came closer to her and asked gently, ‘Why is this young lady crying?’
A couple of eager onlookers from the crowd came forward and bowed to him. All of them started speaking together, hoping to impress him. ‘Oh kind sir, this penniless destitute wants to see the Tajmahal!’
He turned to them, surprised. ‘That is all? Then why do you stop her?’
The young woman’s tears came to a gradual halt. ‘How can I go alone?’ she murmured, in a voice that was barely audible.
‘I see, that is your difficulty.’ The dignitary authoritatively turned to the crowd. ‘One of you will please escort her to see the monument,’ he said decisively.
In a lightning change from her erstwhile downcast gaze, she threw a derisive glance in the general direction of the crowd. ‘I would rather not go at all, than go with these good-for-nothing hoodlums!’ she hissed with contempt.
When these derogatory words fell on their ears, the crowd, which had quietened a little with the arrival of the respected visitor, grew livid, and starting heckling her more venomously than before. The girl was afraid, and glanced beseechingly toward her saviour. His heart melted at that vulnerable look. He stepped forward and said to her gently, ‘Will you come with me?’
The onlookers were aghast. ‘Sir, don’t engage with this crazy woman!’ they cried. ‘How can a respectable person like you even think of taking this demented witch with you?’
He stepped even closer to her, and with a tender glance at her face, he said softly, ‘Come with me.’
The young woman’s emaciated body trembled with excitement.
‘You, sir? You will take me with you? God, how fortunate I am!’ Her exultation was almost driving her crazy.
He held her hand gently and began leading her towards the Tajmahal. The sight of that beautiful marble memorial dedicated to divine love allayed the young woman’s fear and hesitation. The two of them kept moving forward, till they reached the inner sanctum, the heart of the beautiful marble testament to love, where the tombstones of the two famed lovers nestled. The austere and somber silence of the crypt crept into the visitors’ souls.
Suddenly she held his hand in a desperately tight grip and whispered, ‘Shall we exchange our vows here?’ Even before he could utter a word, she said in a louder voice, ‘No no, not here, all those ruffians are coming here… Let us go towards one of those corner minarets.’
She moved swiftly out of the main dome of the Tajmahal and walked rapidly towards a minar. He was amazed at the rapid changes in her mood and was slightly taken aback. But his feet took him in the same direction, following her to the tower. Before he knew it, she was ascending the steps of the structure, almost leaping upwards as she climbed higher and higher. Once at the top, she clapped her hands euphorically and murmured to herself, ‘This is wonderful. No one will come here to disturb us now.’
He was slowly climbing the steps, one at a time, lost in his puzzlement. Finally, he reached the top and stood near her, staring at her visage. She was flushed with all the exertion, and her eyes were sparkling like a pair of diamonds.
On one side of the minaret, the pearly white dome of the Tajmahal sparkled in the light of the setting sun. On the other, the dusky, darkling waters of the Yamuna shimmered seductively. The monsoon rains had swelled the waters of the proud river, but she still danced with carefree abandon. She had outgrown her demure youth and no longer lay in quiet reflection of the beauteous Taj cast into her waters. Setting her virginal reticence aside her waves crashed upwards as if they were trying to embrace the adored monument.
The young lady stood mesmerised watching the bewitching sight of the Yamuna enticing the Tajmahal with her overtures. Then she delicately took his hand between both of hers and said, ‘My love, isn’t this the right time to exchange our promises?’
He too was spellbound by the surrounding beauty. ‘Lovely lady, what vows? What promises?’ he asked in a daze.
She looked down shyly, delighting at his admiring words. Then entwining her arms around his neck, she lay her head on his broad shoulder and said with a pout, feigning a frown, ‘Oh, so now you don’t know what I mean…I won’t talk to you ever, if you decide to be like that!’
Shocked out of his perplexity, he shrugged and said in bewilderment, ‘Oh no, is this girl crazy?’
These stark words seemed to drain all power from her limbs and she sank to the ground. She began muttering desperately to herself, with a hesitant stammer, ‘Oh? Is that what you think? Why did you bring me here then? Why?’
Then a new energy seemed to grip her, and gesticulating at the Tajmahal, she said loudly, her speech clear and coherent all of a sudden, ‘Do you know why this Tajmahal was built here? It is an ode to undying devotion. It is dedicated to seeding tenderness in the hearts of other adoring lovers. It is a symbol of divine and immortal passion, a reminder that even death cannot destroy love that is everlasting. Loveless souls dare not enter here, and once true paramours witness its eternal beauty, even the cruel ravages of time cannot cut their enduring love knot.’
Her declarations fatigued her and she threw herself to the ground, sobbing bitterly. These cries of woe were interspersed with the same recriminations, ‘If you wanted to reject me, why did you get me here?’
His heart went out to her. Sympathetic to her pitiful state, he sighed and said, ‘Poor unfortunate creature, you do not even have anyone to look out for you, care for you when you need to be tended to.’
Instead of mollifying her, his pity seemed to pierce her heart. Her sobs abated. With a rage that can only stem from despair, she screamed, ‘Go! Just go away from here! Leave at once!’
