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We decided to take a weekend trip outside Delhi. To
breathe some fresh air and also have fun. We found
Bharatpur Game Sanctuary was within driving distance and
on our way back we could visit Fatehpur-Sikri and Agra. It
took as about 2 hours just to get past outer fringes of the
City on a Saturday early morning. Later we drove through
some small hamlets and I could see little children with their
backpacks zealously going to schools, even though it was a
Saturday. There were signs of pharmacies and doctors’
clinics. All that seemed very comforting to me. Out on the
countryside they had had good rains and there was greenery
as far as eyes could see. Roads had strings of large trucks
carrying I do not know what, some things some people
needed somewhere very badly, I am sure. Puri had to stop
the car and was told we could not go further because the
road was submerged in flooding rainwater. But then came
another and told us that he had a tractor, which could carry
us and our car across, for ‘a small fee’ of course. I was glad
free enterprise system was catching on. We finally made it
through.
Bharatpur is in the state of Rajasthan and just like Udaipur,
used to be a small Kingdom before being merged into the
mainstream democratic India. Its jungles, lakes and marshes
made a perfect habitat for migratory birds. Birds come from
Siberia looking for warmer climate in winter to hibernate or
breed. You could find countless species of birds and
animals here. It used to be a happy hunting ground for
hunters including Imperial dignitaries from time
immemorial. They have erected a stone plaque with names
of yet more Army Officers with walrus moustache, solar
hats and khakis alongside counts of birds they bagged.
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Talking about these plunderers, there was one such fellow
that was the Governor of Madras in day’s bygone. When he
finally returned to England, he purloined one large cache of
gold, diamonds, pearls, rubies and such other trinkets that
would put the Borgias to shame. Poor fellow before he
kicked the big bucket, he got pangs of bad conscience,
found religion and decided to donate a part of the booty to
start a school for destitute children across the Atlantic.
Anybody heard of Yale University?
However the government declared this area as a sanctuary
for birds and wild life, a few years ago. You may shoot
these creatures only with a camera.
We checked into a Tourist Bungalow outside the gates of
the Sanctuary. For a very reasonable price we could get a
good 2-bedroom suite with A/C and a color TV. We were
not allowed to drive inside the Sanctuary. They had cycle-
rickshaws. It is a tri-cycle with a seat that can take 2 people.
A man pulls from his seat in the front by pedaling. The
cycle rickshaw drivers here also doubled as guides. They
were trained to explain everything that was going on there
in 4 languages: English, German, French and Italian. I told
him I would much prefer if spoke to me in simple Hindi.
We spent the whole of the afternoon going round in this
unspoiled piece of picturesque paradise, so different from
the hustle and bustle of the previous days. My cycle
rickshaw driver would every now and then burst out with a
chuckle at some of my wisecracks, showing glimmering
white teeth between dark unkempt beard. I wondered if he
ever had ulcers worrying about interest rates or Dow Jones
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or mortgage payments. Why would he, he was sure he was
going to get a good square meal this evening. Tomorrow is
another day.
Next morning we headed toward Fatehpur-Sikri. Here I
need to pause and take you back a few centuries.
American Republic is a little over 2 Centuries old. India has
seen rise and fall of at least 4 or 5 such civilizations in
recorded history. Most recently was the Mughal period that
lasted from mid 16th century for about 200 years. Babar the
founder of this dynasty was a progeny of the great Chengez
Khan of Mongolia and a follower of Islam.
He was driven away from his homeland. He came toward
India looking for a good place to build an empire. Since he
saw no Realtors that were willing to make him a deal, he
put together an army and said this is a mugging, out with
your stuff.
Till then the Kings on the Indian side thought they had the
latest state-of-the-art war machinery like spears, bows,
arrows, shields, elephants and horses. They had cut back on
Defense spending.
Babar had something called gunpowder that could blast
cannons out on long trajectories. The Indian side had a good
100,000 strong brave soldiers, 5 times that on the other side,
but were in a total disarray when these cannons started
landing on their tents.
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The Home team had to surrender to the Visitors before the
end of second quarter; Super Bowl was over before the half
time.
There had been several invasions in the past through the
Hindu Kush ranges on the border with Afghanistan. But
most of them would just loot, maraud, kill, rape and go back
with the booty. This fellow Babar was pretty serious about
his empire building idea. He settled down and said this is
my home now on. Immigration & Naturalization Service
could not declare him as an undocumented illegal
immigrant and deport him. After all he had better guns. Rest
is history.
Babar’s grandson was Akbar the Great. Akbar inherited the
throne when he was 8. At 16 he found his Regent very
incompetent, corrupt and unpopular. The Regent was given
the good old pink slip. Akbar took over the reins himself.
His reign lasted nearly 70 years and the empire extended
from the borders of Persia to Burma and almost till the tip
of the Indian peninsula to the south.
How he was able to keep together a territory of this size
speaks about his management genius. The only other
contemporary empires in the world of comparable
magnitude were Czarist Russia and China. They had not yet
coined the term Super Power. Western Europe was still in
bits and pieces. Shakespeare had been born. Apple had not
yet fallen on the nose of Isaac Newton.
Akbar was getting old but his wives could not give him an
heir to the throne, which worried him very much. There was
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a holy man in Fatehpur-Sikri about 100 miles from Delhi
who had a reputation of having mythical powers. So the
mighty Emperor came to this holy man seeking divine
intervention to his dilemma.
Sure enough Queen Jodhabai conceived a child and gave
birth to Prince Salim. Akbar
was so impressed that he
decided to move the capital of his empire from Delhi to
Fatehpur-Sikri. I am always very wary of these supernatural
phenomena.
Whenever I was grounded in my room to do history
homework, I would gaze at the picture of this Salim. As I
doodled on his face, I always thought he had a strong facial
resemblance to the Imperial Chief Harem Keeper,
especially the nose and lower chin. In matters of State and
National Security one does not argue with the mystical
powers of holy men. I would draw a moustache and a small
goatee beard on Salim’s face so nobody else sees the
similarity. In those days nobody knew of Invitro- or
Artificial Fertilization. Who knows what went on behind
those veils of Royal Chambers?
Fatehpur-Sikri has all the monuments built during that time
still intact. When asked how come these buildings are so
well built, one gets a wise crack that in those days they did
not have contractors with lowest bids, they had an Emperor
with a mighty whip.
On one building they show symbols of Hinduism,
Christianity, Islam and also the Star of David. Akbar tried
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to keep harmony between his peoples of different faiths. He
even founded a new religion combining all of them.
They also show Roman and Greek influences on the
columns of some buildings.
Prince Salim called himself Emperor Jehangir when he
inherited the empire. It was easy enough for holy men to
live in Fatehpur-Sikri, but it was soon found that for
housing a capital city of a large empire one needed large
quantities of water supply. Fatehpur-Sikri had very little.
Jehangir moved his capital back to brand new quarters in
Delhi. He still had fond links to the erstwhile hometown
where his very birth was ‘conceived’ biologically and
metaphorically.
Taj Mahal is in Agra about 15 miles from Fatehpur-Sikri.
Jahangir’s son was Shahjehan who was madly in love with
his Empress. She died before she was 30 years old while
giving birth to a child. Shahjehan promised her that no one
could ever take her place in his life and asked her if she had
any wish that he could fulfill. She said that she wanted a
monument of their love be built that would symbolize it for
eternity. Thus came about Taj Mahal, the mausoleum where
this Empress was laid to rest.
For a long time I procrastinated a visit to Taj Mahal, while I
lived in New Delhi. I thought it is just another of those
‘images’ that Travel Magazines promote and dumb tourists
flock to get themselves photographed with. I visited it for
the first time when some outside guests had to be
accompanied.
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When I saw it in reality, I was totally consumed by its sheer
beauty. It is out of this world. Its perfection is breathtaking.
Made completely of white marble and located on the banks
of Yamuna River this piece of art makes one just stand
there aghast if not turn to tears at its magnificence. It has
inspired writers, painters, artists, poets, musicians, novelists
and lately moviemakers. Lovers from all corners of the
world, whether in their teens or in their golden age, come
here and take a vow. A kiss here under the Full Moon is
considered divine. Folklore abounds on its theme.
It seems there used to be a receptacle in the dome where
rainwater would accumulate and all the time a drop would
intermittently fall on the grave of the Empress, symbolic of
her lover’s tears.
Now that is very poetic and romantic, right? If that should
happen in my living room, it would be called a leak,
symbolic of my tears at high Property Tax.
Shahjahan had wanted to build a Black Taj Mahal across
the river for himself to be buried. It would stand out in
Eternity saying ‘She was pure as driven snow and I am still
grieving for her’.
Destiny had it differently. Youngest of Shahjahan’s four
sons, called Aurangzeb speared a Coup d’Etat. He killed his
3 older brothers. Took pity on his dad and took him a life
prisoner, instead of beheading. Announced himself as the
Emperor. Shahjehan asked only one extra favor of his son,
that he be imprisoned in a cell wherefrom he could watch
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his Taj Mahal until the dying day. The wish was granted.
After death he was also buried in the Taj Mahal beside his
beloved wife.
Little is known about the architect and artist that designed
and built Taj Mahal. In those days there were no Copy
Right or Patent laws. One way in which an Imperial
Potentate could ensure that no one else replicates his
creation of splendor would have been to send its creator to
learn play ice hockey in ‘Gulag’. What was this
‘Michelangelo’ or ‘Vinci’ that created this marvel like?
There seems so little on record.
Depending on whom you ask, Aurangzeb was driven by
either religious conviction or blind bigotry. He believed that
the country had strayed from the path prescribed in the
Scriptures. The ‘Tax and Spend Liberals’ had run the
country too long, wasting federal funds on wanton pursuits.
He disapproved of freedoms to Infidels in their wayward
‘Life Styles’. That had bad influence on the good followers
of the Path. He wanted to put an end to all that. Music of
any kind was bad morals and Arts were degenerate.
Paintings show that he had long white beard. He prayed 8
times a day, led a frugal personal life and forced strict moral
behavior by his standards on the people.
Aurangzeb might have been very strict and stern with his
subjects. But at the domestic front, he had a problem. His
dad had set bad precedent. His own Empress wanted a Taj
Mahal for herself.
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She felt belittled. Her friends at the bridge table and
cocktail circuit must have teased her.
“What kind of a husband are you any way? Can you not
make me a simple Taj Mahal? Am I any worse than my
mother-in-law?” she must have yelled at him at the
breakfast table, in her curlers.
Aurangzeb relented and let her have one. This one is some
1200 miles south-west of Delhi near Bombay. I have seen
both, the original and the second version. Comparing the
two is like comparing Champagne with Root Beer. I guess
Aurangzeb and his wife got what they deserved.
With advent of Aurangzeb started ‘The Decline and Fall of
Mughal Empire’. The Empire started breaking down. There
were revolts everywhere. The Europeans who had come as
traders became mercenary soldiers taking sides and inciting
quarrels amongst the several factions. One whole
civilization came down to the pits.
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We headed back home Sunday evening. On the way we
were talking about how some new industries that were
creating jobs in the surrounding area were also causing
pollution to tarnish the white marble of the Taj. I suggested
that probably some Walt Disney should take over the whole
town and turn it into a new theme park. That would create a
lot of jobs too.
I spent the next few days lazing around at home watching
TV. Now cable TV in color was available with more than a
dozen channels. Even in regular channels the program were
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very watchable. You had ‘Good Morning India’, on the
lines of ‘Good Morning America’, there was a Hindi
version of ‘Wheel of Fortune’, one could also see CNN,
Talk Shows, Game Shows and Hindi MTV/VH1. There
were live broadcasts of Republican National Convention
from San Diego, BBC News and Movie Channels. ESPN
showed sports of Indian and International interests. You had
them all.
Wanderlust took over again and this time I went on my own
with my driver to a more serene place called Kumaon Hills.
This is an area in the foothills of the Himalayas, nestled in
woods, with lakes, water falls, log cabins, hunting lodges,
all covered in fog and floating clouds, with sun shining
through now and then. I spent time contemplating sunset,
sunrise, fresh drop of dew on the petals of blooming
chrysanthemums and such other creations of art, that I
usually have no time to do in workaday life. I tried to
preserve the idyllic beauty of these. I zoomed my lens and
kept cranking my camera like I wanted to carry every nook
and cranny of this place back with me.
There is a National Park here called Jim Corbett Park. Who
was this Jim Corbett? Yet another in ‘walrus moustache,
solar hat and khakis that bilked native nabobs in dice game