Obviously, Rana did not want to scuttle that God given opportunity presented to him by his employers. So he came up with a practical proposal according to which during the three months training, he would manage to come to Calcutta for a few days at the end of November and Keka would go to Delhi with her parents during the week between the Christmas and New Year. He promised to take them for a trip to Agra to see the Tajmahal and to Jaipur and Udaipur to see the famous Rajput palaces.
Keka displayed semblance of a smile. She made faces to Rana, but accepted the proposal. On further deliberations, her family decided that only her mother Mita would accompany her. That broke the log-jam and brought peace and sanity to the earth. After two agonizing days and the longest forty-eight hours of her life Keka smiled and became her own-self again.
That was not the first time that seemingly unreasonable emotions were displayed by a romantic partner in the River of Life, nor will it be the last. For that is the nature of love. Despite all the trappings of unshakable togetherness, it is apprehensive of the evil casting its spell on the object of love without rhyme or reason.
Rana’s training commenced in Delhi on schedule at the beginning of November. And as promised to Keka he came down to Calcutta for four days at the end of November. Now it was Keka’s turn to go to Delhi chaperoned by her mother Mita. Both Rana and Keka were counting days. In consonance with the time frame the mother and daughter arrived in Delhi. Their objective was to tour the Delhi-Agra-Jaipur-Udaipur belt known as the Golden Triangle of tourism, covering a part of Northwest India rich in history. There were unbelievable numbers of touristic objects to visit in that triangle. For over thousand years that corridor had been the base of governance of the successive rulers of various dynasties, trying to extend their control and authority over a large area of the country. So the Golden Triangle was strewn with the relics of the past. Each relic had its fascinating story of love and romance, power and greed, triumph and tragedy, honesty and treachery, artistic eminence and the failure of the art of governance. The sites of special interests that they visited in and around Delhi were the President’s Palace, Parliament House, other important Government buildings, the Red Fort, the Diplomatic Enclave and the mausoleum of Emperor Akbar. The President’s house was formerly the Viceroy’s House in the colonial days. The Red Fort was the last bastion of the Mughal Empire during the dying days of the dynasty. Emperor Akbar’s mausoleum on the way to Agra bore characteristics of his religious tolerance and the influence of his wives of various faiths on his mental spectrum and his architecture.
The excitement was mounting on Keka and her mother for the Agra leg of the trip, mainly due to Tajmahal. But the first stop of the visit was Fatehpur Sikri, a beautiful city that Emperor Akbar founded at a phenomenal cost. It became his citadel of power for a short period of time. Fatehpur Sikri was a well laid out city, an architectural masterpiece, just at the outskirts of Agra. However, in about fourteen years he moved his site of governance to Lahore, now in Pakistan. No one knew for certain why a beautiful city like that built at a cost mind-boggling to an ordinary citizen was abandoned within such a short period of time. Some say water shortage was the reason. Some others opine that the Emperor was concerned over the frequent incursions by the Persian and Afghan rulers at the western frontier of his far flung empire and he wanted to be closer to that frontier to smother any large scale invasion. Whatever might be the reason, Fatehpur Sikri would always be seen as the symbol of an Emperor’s privilege of imposing his whim on the subjects at a considerable cost to them during those idiosyncratic mediaeval ages.
Nonetheless, there were some important relics in Fatehpur Sikri. Among them, the tomb of the Sufi Saint Salim Chisti with its intricate and sensitive filigree and engravings in marble would remain as one of the masterpieces of the Mughal era. Among other interesting relics were the palaces of the principal wives of Akbar. Keka spent a lot of time in and around those palaces. For a modern day young woman like Keka, it is a mystery how the multiple wives of the royalty of the yore used to share the same household without being belligerent to each other. All in all, Fatehpur Sikri was a good prelude to Agra Fort and the Taj Mahal.
The next stop was the Agra Fort, the seat of control and power for about two centuries. The construction of the massive Agra Fort got off the ground around 1590 AD when Akbar decided to take back his capital to Agra. The Agra Fort was perhaps the strongest and technologically most advanced fort of that era. The sound system of Diwan-E-Um or the King’s Court appeared to be way ahead of his time. Akbar governed his empire from the Agra Fort till the end of his reign at his death in 1605.
Tajmahal was built during the reign of his grandson Shah Jahan as a loving remembrance of his beloved wife Mumtaj, who died while giving birth to their fourteenth child. The Tajmahal was situated about three miles north of the Agra Fort on the other side of the River Jamuna and was clearly visible, even though in a minuscule form, from the Royal verandah. Shah Jahan ruled from 1628 to 1658 and then he was put under house arrest by Aurangjeb, his son and the self-imposed new ruler. When Shah Jahan’s distant vision became dimmer with his advanced age, a precious stone was set at a specific angle on the redstone wall of the royal balcony to facilitate his easy viewing of the Tajmahal in its clear reflection. That stone and all the other precious stones of the Fort were stripped by the British Raj. However, a cheap replacement stone was in place and Keka, Mita and Rana took turns to see the reflection of Tajmahal on that stone. Nevertheless, it was from the royal verandah that they had the first glimpse of the Tajmahal in the distance. As they walked down the steps of the verandah, the Tajmahal disappeared from their sight. Then the tourist taxi began its seemingly endless three-mile drive through the narrow streets of Agra till guide Khushwant announced in a dramatic fashion, “Here’s the Tajmahal, the mother of all Mausoleums, one of the Seven Wonders of the World.”
They craned their necks to the right and lo and behold! There stood the Tajmahal, the visual outburst of a lyrical and romantic mind rendered silent in sorrow for its inability to find its exquisitely tender and loving expression in the fluidity of a poem, breathing its sublime beauty to the space, ever mindful of the memory of the beloved long lost in the passage of time. Yes, Tajmahal is the finest piece of poem curved in pristine marble. It is the visual effect of the perfect meeting of minds of the lover, the beloved and the architect. It is the consummate blend of design and architecture; a masterful display of the interaction of the size and space, tempered by the outpouring of intense feelings, evoked by a delectable combination of love and grief. It is one of those rapturous and exalted masterpieces of mankind, which transcend the highest intellect, ingenuity, craftsmanship and artistic refinement and blessed with the grace of God, attain divinity. There is no linguistic repertoire of the beholder which could adequately describe the elegance, the purity and the artistry of the Tajamahal.
The timing of the visit was planned to coincide with the full moon so that the beauty of the Tajmahal and its immaculate minarets could be enjoyed during the bright daylight as well as in the flowing moonlight. When Mita, Keka and Rana arrived, it was midafternoon. The lovely mausoleum looked sun-drenched against the backdrop of the clear blue wintry sky, a perfect harmony of the natural beauty and the art at its supreme best. It was not long before the shadows of the Tajmahal and its splendid minarets started growing longer and the daylight becoming paler. Gradually, the radiant sun which dominated the brilliant blue sky through the day said its goodbye to the planet earth one more time. As the slanted rays of the setting sun of the prevailing winter disappeared below the horizon, dusk pervaded the landscape for some fleeting moments before giving way to the domineering darkness. The full moon was approaching just a few steps behind. On raising her head above the horizon she proclaimed to the darkness, “I am the queen of the night. I come to see my mother earth only once a month. I take pride in my mother and delight in her mankind. I want you to stay away when I enjoy the pleasure of my presence with them.”
During the daylight Rana kept Keka and her mother on their toes taking their photos at every vantage point, especially at the Tajmahal, where every point was a vantage point. When dusk descended, that was the time for rest, reflection and refreshment. Immersed thoroughly at the dazzling display of that masterful work of art, Rana was wondering how beautiful and charming Mumtaj could be that inspired a monument of such refined grace that transcended human ingenuity and took away breath at the mere sight. The mother and daughter were exchanging their delight to be fortunate enough to witness that amazing relic of history. Suddenly, Keka asked Rana, “What are you thinking?”
Rana replied, oblivious of her mother’s presence, “If Mumtaj was as beautiful and charming as you are.”
Keka was not prepared for that riposte in presence of her mother. She blushed and chuckled. Mita burst into laughter and said, “I always thought Rana to be romantic. But it seems under the shadow of Tajmahal his romanticism has found wings to fly.”
The two ladies and Rana got up on their feet again and went round the spacious courtyard to have a glimpse of the Tajmahal from all sides in the moonlight. After a while, Mita found a marble bench and said, “I am feeling very happy, contented and a little tired. Let me sit here and relish the moment of my life. You two go round and enjoy yourselves. This opportunity may not come every now and then.”
Rana knew Mita was trying to re-live her dream through her daughter. She wanted her daughter to seize the opportunity which never came her way when she was her age. She wanted Keka to drink her life to the lees. Keka and Rana walked over to the other side of the Tajmahal which was full of young couples. There was hardly any place to sit. However, Keka always had good-seat charm in public places. One couple got up from a marble bench in a corner and they occupied it. Rana gently pulled Keka to his side and said, “Thank you very much that you took the trouble to come here and give me this wonderful company. This day will forever shine in my memory.” He embraced her and planted a kiss on her lips.
Keka said, “No words of thanks are enough for you. But for your bold plan, I could not come here now.” And then, for the first time in their relationship she took the initiative to kiss him very passionately. They clung together for a long time.
A little later Keka said, “My mother is also grateful to you for this trip. My father is always busy in his cases. He never thinks of this kind of romantic trip with her. He came to Supreme Court so many times to plead his cases, but never brought my mother with him.”
Rana said, “I am happy that your mother is enjoying, albeit in her lonely way.”
While talking about Mita, it occurred to them that they left her alone for a long time. So they briskly walked back to her. Mita said, “I am really glad that you two are enjoying. These occasions are very few and far between in life. Try to make the most of it.”
The next leg of their journey was Udaipur. The following morning they began the long drive through the desert, skirting the Aravalli Mountain Range, the ravines and crevices of which still reverberated with the heroic lores of the Ranas and Maharanas of Rajasthan, the land of kings. Udaipur was named after Maharana Uday Singh, the ruler of Mewar and was founded in the sixteenth century after the Mughal Emperor attacked his site of Governance Chittorgarh and occupied his Citadel Chittor Fort. Udaipur was located at the foothills of the Aravalli Mountains. It is famous for its lakes and palaces. There are five major lakes created by the accumulated rain waters cascading down the slopes of the Aravalli Mountains. However, the Pichola Lake is the most well-known of them all. There are a number of palaces in and around Udaipur. But the two most important are the City Palace and Lake Palace. The City Palace, located on the eastern bank of the Pichola Lake is the oldest, largest and full of historical significance. Nonetheless, the Lake Palace stole the show at a later date due to its strategic location and pristine beauty. It was built on one of the islands of the Pichola Lake and was constructed with white marble. As such, from the shores of Pichola Lake and the heights of Aravalli Mountains it looks like a white pearl jutting out of the black water. On the other hand, the view of the lake, the city and the mountains from the palace is breathtaking. The third much talked-about palace around Udaipur was the eye-pleasing summer palace on the mountains of Aravalli.
Keka was very excited with the prospect of seeing so many palaces, especially, the Lake Palace about which she heard so much. As for Rana, from his own family history he learnt that he was of Rajput descent. He was delighted to be back to his ancestral land and was looking forward to savor the sights and sounds of that bygone era. They began the tour of the palaces together. But in a short while, Mita drifted away, presumably to respect the need for privacy of her daughter. Rana always held her in high esteem for this discreet trait of her character. Mita always knew the bounds of her interaction with her daughter.
Walking through the various wings of the palaces, Rana’s mind was unwittingly comparing between the Rajput and Mughal art and architecture having just visited the Mughal palace-forts and mausoleums. He was an ardent admirer of both schools of art; both were touching and romantic in their own way. But to him Rajput art was an embodiment of simplicity and inspiring and the Mughal art was intricate and appealing to the finer instincts of mind. As his mind was resonating with these thoughts, Keka leaned over Rana and said, “I am very fortunate that I have found you in my life. In some ways, your mind is very modern. In other ways, it remains intertwined with history.”
Rana laughed generously and admitted, “I cannot agree with you more. I do not know how you have penetrated my mind, but I will not hide the fact that when I come to these palaces and see the king’s court, the curved corridors, the arched passage ways and ornamental parapets, I get lost in them. It appears that I have seen them before. They seem very familiar to me and I feel at home and comfortable surrounded by them.”
At the last lap of the tour of Udaipur Palace, Mita appeared from nowhere. Rana asked her, “What happened? Are you tired of us that you have begun to stay away most of the time?”
Mita smiled and responded, “I want to make sure that I am not coming in the way of your enjoyment. These trips will not come very often. Seize the moments and treasure them as much as you can. As for myself, I am really enjoying the trip and I thank you for that.”
Soon the Udaipur tour came to an end, leaving an indelible mark on them. Especially, the Lake Palace was so fascinating that Rana felt like staying there a few days more.
Apparently, their hearts and minds were on the same wave-length. Bubbling with enthusiasm Keka said what was on Rana’s lips, “Time permitting, we could have stayed here few more days, exhilarating the exceptional charm and beauty of the marble palace.”
Rana said, “Keka, I cannot agree with you more. But the problem is, the saints of the past said that if one stays more than two nights in a place, one develops a deep affection or ‘maya’ for the place, which would make us too sentimental to leave even after those few extended days.”
Keka lamented with a sigh, “Yes, you said it right. May be we will come back sometime in the future.�
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Rana said, “I promise that whenever you want to come back, I will bring you without any hesitation. After all, this is my ancestral land.”
They had a little time in hand before proceeding toward Jaipur. So they decided to take a sumptuous lunch. Rana also invited Khushwant, the owner, guide and the driver of the tourist car. His family travel business owned a fleet of tourist cars. Khushwant joined the family business after graduating from the Delhi University. During the lunch, he advised that they were ahead of schedule and if everything worked out well during the rest of the trip, they would be able to get back to Delhi by noon on Saturday. In that event, he said, they could take rest in the afternoon and then in the evening after an early dinner he would take them to the Red Fort to watch the Son-et-Lumiere or the Sound and Light Show, depicting three hundred years of Indian History by the effects of sound and light.
So after lunch they were on their way to Jaipur, the final leg of their tour. Jaipur was named after Maharana Jai Singh II, another revered Rajput ruler who reigned during the seventeenth century. Jaipur was the first planned Indian city following the model set by the Indian School of Architecture. Of the many spectacular tourist attractions in and around Jaipur, they had decided to visit the City Palace complex, Rambagh Palace, Amber Fort and the Garden of the Queen of Sisodia in honor of the queen of Jai Singh. The City Palace complex actually consisted of quite a few splendid palaces within a compound of over 100 acres of land. The most frequently visited palaces were Chandra (Moon) Mahal, Mubarak (Welcome) Mahal, Badal (Monsoon) Mahal and Hawa (Wind) Mahal. Each of the palaces symbolized their name and was embodiment of elegance and opulence. However, Hawa Mahal deserves a special mention for its architectural and engineering magnificence in controlling, directing and making the best use of the wind to create a cooling effect or natural air-conditioning in the heat of the desert sun.
A Bend in the River of Life Page 11