AGRA-VATIONS AND JOYS

As is India's wont, Agra has proven to be, once again, a place of extremes! Poverty and riches, confusion and trauma and utter transcendent beauty...

The day started ok with a wonderful sleep and a leisurely breakfast. Then off to see Agra Fort and Akbar's Tomb. Easier said than done. I took a cycle rickshaw waiting outside the hotel (Sheela's, which I cannot recommend too highly, is in the non-pollution zone and so motor rickshaws are banned). We set off into town.

How shall I put it? Agra is not a place of translucent natural beauty. I hesitate to call it a shitpit but now that I have hesitated I am going to. Its a shitpit. Actually that's not at all fair. The shitty bit is the Taj Ganj, the touristy area near the Taj itself where all the hotels are. Its filthy, decaying, stinks and is full of dodgy shops. This is why I urge anyone coming here to go to Sheela's. Its quiet, green and leafy and really lovely. The staff are friendly and give you advice on how to avoid scams. If you find yourself spending your stay here only at Sheela's and the Taj you will be happy.

Once you get out into the areas beyond the Taj Ganj it gets better. Indeed its pretty much like any other ordinary Indian city. The autorickshaw is a green option in an notoriously overpolluted city (my white shirt was shit-coloured by the end of the day), but it is pretty labourious and slow. In this instance, there was a problem with the tyres which kept recurring so it took about an hour going from repair shop to repair shop before we got anywhere. Then other troubles kicked in. Not one ATM was working so I had to get money changed at a bank. I couldn't tell what was genuine and what was legit (we are warned about scams in Agra endlessly), but everything seemed ok in the end. Then and only then did we begin to get anywhere. But not before I was offered something called 'Karma Sutra' (replete with a knowing look) from a young street vendor who had failed to sell me a Taj Mahal pendant, a crappy looking toy elephant or postcards. He suddenly lowered his voice (all this was while the Rickshaw guy was trying to fix his tyre) and looked knowingly at me and said, 'Karma sutra? Only 200 Rupees...' before winking at me (at least I think it was a wink). I hoped sincerely he wasn't gesturing towards his sister somewhere. The thought did not appeal so I just told him I didn't understand what he was saying. He shook my hand and said 'Friend' and walked off... Relieved, I got back into the rickshaw and we set off.

I had no idea that Akbar's Tomb was so far out and the rickshaw driver, whose name was Ladu, toiled away through nightmare traffic to get there. He wanted the fare, which would be a chunky one, and he was sweating by the time we got there, albeit after two or three stops. It took ages and I was getting hot and annoyed but kept my temper. Thank God I did, because the Tomb was worth the trek.

Akbar the Great, as he was known, was the greatest and most extraordinary of the Moghul Emperors. If he had been European, he would be regarded as one of the greatest leaders in the history of the world. As he isn't, no-one outside India or the Muslim world really knows who he is. He was a genius. A great leader, administrator, military commander, mystic and man of learning who was the first to truly unite India. Unlike most Emperors, he was completely tolerant of different cultures and instigated complete religious freedom across his realm. Not only that but he gathered representatives of each one together to discuss all their traditions in an effort to find a new way which synthesised all of them. He had a reputation for great fairness and was a loved and admired leader...

He was also, clearly, a great architect because it turns out that he designed his own tomb as well! And its stunning. Much quieter and less visited than the Taj, you enter it through an enormous red sandstone gate, replete with minarets and amazing geometric patterns. As with the Taj, the majesty of these is amazing. Given the injunction against graven images and any representation of nature in Islam, the genius of their artists and architects expressed itself in the play of symmetry and geometric patterns of such complexity and wonder that they are extraordinary to behold. Its why the Taj is so magnificent. No-one understood perspective and symmetry like the great Muslim artists. It is amazing.

Once you are through the gates, you enter the beautifully laid out - again according to precise geometric designs - Persian gardens surrounding the Tomb. In Islam, the word Paradise (Pardes in Hebrew) means 'Garden' as in Garden of Eden. In the Koran, the descriptions of Heaven as a fertile, lush Garden are very vivid. In these, there were more monkeys and herds of deer and what looked like antelopes roaming around. It was blazing hot. The water in the bottle I had brought became warm and unquenching almost immediately.

Once I had walked through the gardens, it was possible to enter Akbar's Tomb. Once inside, it was possible to get a vivid idea of the man and his honest integrity. While the entrance was lavishly decorated with more wonderfully rich designs, the Tomb itself, in keeping with Islamic custom, was a bare, simple room. The Emperor allowed himself to be buried as a humble human being. Sitting in that cool, simple, subterranean space for a half hour or so was a special experience. We need more Akbars in this world, with their ideals and desire to unite rather than divide.

Leaving the tomb, I wandered more in the gardens, marvelling at more arches and gates. After the Taj the day before, I was beginning to piece together a powerful image of this culture known as the Moghuls, centred around a single dynasty of remarkable men. Surely it must be one of the greatest the world has ever known? If the architecture left behind was anything to go by, they were people of astonishing insight.

This sensation was intensified by visiting Agra Fort, built by Shah Jahan, the Moghul Emperor who built the Taj itself. The trip involved more adventures, with key roads being blocked by roadworks and more flat tyres, but we got there in the end. The Fort was another magnificent experience. Its huge and varied, with translucent marble varying with more red sandstone in different buildings and palaces. One small Mosque built by Jahan for the women of his harem was truly exquisite. As I explored it, I was struck by something I had never seen about Mosques before: they are empty spaces. There is no shrine, no altar, no effigy. In keeping with Islam's code of an Invisible God, one is praying to nothing. That made me think... Of all the world's religions, Islam is the most mysterious to me, the one I feel most locked out of. I can relate to all the Scriptures of the others. I can see the beauty and the appeal, but Islam still remains hard to relate to, or at least its exoteric form does. There is much I don't like. And yet this was the culture which produced the Sufis, which influenced our own European culture profoundly and which produced this astonishing civilisation which included the Moghuls. One looks at the Taj Mahal in its perfection and wonders where it emerged from. Cause and Effect. It emerged from Islam and nowhere else. As I say, there is a Mystery here I would love to understand...

Back to Agra Fort. History relates how Shah Jahan was incarcerated here by his son, Aurangzeb, until he died (apparently of a massive overdose of drugs and aphrodisiacs while cavorting with his Harem). Legend tells that he used to gaze across the landscape at the Taj Mahal, remembering his Empress who lay there and for whom it was built. Whether you take the romantic or fruity version of the story (probably both are true), the view of the Taj from the Fort is wonderfully moving and one can well imagine Shah Jahan sitting there gazing at it.

The day ended with a return to Sheela's, a negotiated price for the valiant (and sweating) Ladu and a final, sunset viewing of the Taj. And here I have to tell anyone coming that, if you don't see it during sunset on your first day here, come again the next. It is worth the expense. Not only is a second encounter richer than the first because the initial GASP of seeing the Taj Mahal gives way to a deeper appreciation of it, but the sheer wonder of watching the colours of the changing light of the sun fall on and transform the marble of the minarets and central domes is indiscribably beautiful to behold. Indeed, this is when the mystery of the Taj really becomes apparent. It becomes an image of change and changelessness. The Taj remains the same, eternal and permanent, but the light presents it in flux, reshaping it, feminising it, as if evoking the memory of Mumtaz herself. What can I say? I didn't want to leave when everyone was being ushered out and stood there as long as I could, looking at it in the haze.

And one other boon emerged - and here's a tip so you really don't need a guide. The optical illusion thay talk about is contained in the water areas leading to the Taj. If you stand by the water opposite the domes etc, you see them beautifully reflected in the pools. The effect is magical, mystical even, as if you are seeing the Taj in its real form, part material, part shimmering mystery. A guide, presumably finished with a paying guest and milling around, hoping for a quick buck, grabbed me and showed me. I paid him because it was amazing. Now you have read this, you won't need to!

The mysteries of the Taj are endless. Much more occurred to me and I will probably write in more detail about it on my other Blog, the Temple of Pegasus. But until then, I can only say to you all: Go and see it. It is as amazing as they say. A work of genius. Transcendent genius. See it.

So. Its late and its time for dinner, bed and then tomorrow Delhi. Thank you Agra for all you have shown me. My dream did come true. It has proven to be the centrepiece of my trip to India so far, the synthesis of everything. May my journey tomorrow be a clean and clear one.

And love to everyone!