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Nothing prepares you for the Taj Mahal...
Oct. 3rd, 2007 01:06 am..I'm not talking about the legendary exterior view of the building, which is indeed beautiful, but in truth not exponentially different from so many other domed temples that we've seen along our path.
The true awe lies within. It is a simple chamber - one large round room - with the two caskets of the mother and child that died in labor - and an intricately carved white gate surrounding them. Above, the ceiling is high and grey, and pigeons fly between the windows like angels with their wings outstretched.
But it is not the visual aspect that is the most awesome - it is the *sound*. The room is a perfect echo chamber, and it carries the voices within in a series of reverberations that fling open the doors to the ages and to the collective soul. Centuries of voices, in celebration and sorrow and love and pain, all blending together in chorus. I turned to Jay to express it to him, and saw him with his head already tilted back in awe, eyes closed, taking it all in as well. We listened for a long time. Occasionally a pigeon flapped overhead, with its wing noises adding to the auditory chorus.
After a while we stepped up to look through the gate, at the resting place of the mother and the baby, contemplating the depths of the love and the grief that led this monarch to create this temple of memory to his beloved.
Outside again, we retreated to the peaceful terrace at the back of the Taj, and rested with our backs against the centuries-old marble, just letting the awe of it waft through us, with tears brimming in my eyes.
It is wonderful to have this powerful experience to take home with us on the last day of this trip, as we go through the series of re-acclimations necessary to adjust back to home. It has been deeply intense, and our re-entry to California will take some getting used to. Treat us gently when you see us, please...
The true awe lies within. It is a simple chamber - one large round room - with the two caskets of the mother and child that died in labor - and an intricately carved white gate surrounding them. Above, the ceiling is high and grey, and pigeons fly between the windows like angels with their wings outstretched.
But it is not the visual aspect that is the most awesome - it is the *sound*. The room is a perfect echo chamber, and it carries the voices within in a series of reverberations that fling open the doors to the ages and to the collective soul. Centuries of voices, in celebration and sorrow and love and pain, all blending together in chorus. I turned to Jay to express it to him, and saw him with his head already tilted back in awe, eyes closed, taking it all in as well. We listened for a long time. Occasionally a pigeon flapped overhead, with its wing noises adding to the auditory chorus.
After a while we stepped up to look through the gate, at the resting place of the mother and the baby, contemplating the depths of the love and the grief that led this monarch to create this temple of memory to his beloved.
Outside again, we retreated to the peaceful terrace at the back of the Taj, and rested with our backs against the centuries-old marble, just letting the awe of it waft through us, with tears brimming in my eyes.
It is wonderful to have this powerful experience to take home with us on the last day of this trip, as we go through the series of re-acclimations necessary to adjust back to home. It has been deeply intense, and our re-entry to California will take some getting used to. Treat us gently when you see us, please...
