Agra
Up Delhi
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AGRA: My first view of the Taj Mahal monument while walking around the western side where I found the funeral crematoria area.


AGRA: Walking around the western side of the monument I found the funeral area. A peek of the Taj Mahal monument is in the background.


AGRA: Here, next to the river behind the Taj Mahal I found a funeral in progress.


AGRA: Here, next to the river behind the Taj Mahal I found a funeral in progress. As the noon hour approached two more bodies were carried into the area. Only males were present and each brought an armload of firewood. A guide claimed the cremations usually occur in the afternoon and that there would be many more bodies by then. These first three must have been important people, he suggested.


AGRA: Signature photo of the Taj Mahal, Agra India.


AGRA: Main entrance gate to the Taj Mahal monument grounds. Notice the metal detectors under the arches.


AGRA: We approach the main entrance to the monument enclave.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This is what visitors see after first entering the gates.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. And, when all the tourists move out of the way this is what I see.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken off to the grassy green area right of the entrance.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. Another shot taken off to the right of the entrance.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken far off to the right of the entrance among the beautifully landscaped grounds.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. As I continue walking toward the monument it looms larger and larger in my viewfinder.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken off to the right of the entrance while walking toward the monument.


AGRA: One of the buildings outside the monument grounds.


AGRA: Another of the buildings outside the monument grounds.


AGRA: Big shady tree near one of the buildings outside the monument grounds.


AGRA: minaret of a new mosque being built near the Park Plaza Hotel. The minaret is said to be the third highest in India. It has been under construction for seven years and is expected to be completed by Christmas.


AGRA: Close-up of the minaret of a new mosque being built near the Park Plaza Hotel.


AGRA: Another view of the minaret of a new mosque being built near the Park Plaza Hotel.


AGRA: minaret of a new mosque being built near the Park Plaza Hotel. The minaret is said to be the third highest in India. It has been under construction for seven years and is expected to be completed within 10 months.


AGRA: Doorman at the Howard Park Plaza Hotel where I stayed a couple nights. Nice uniform.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. Details of the marble carvings at the entrance to the main


AGRA: This is the entrance to the Pizza Hut where I took most of my meals away from the hotel while in Agra, the only eating establishment outside the hotel I felt sure would observe adequate hygiene standards.

 

1-6 March 2004 

Hello from the Taj Mahal, 

The delayed flight from Varanasi got in two and a half hours late and after dark, putting me in a foul mood. Before we departed, Indian Airlines personnel promised special arrangements would be made to get me into the city, because of our late arrival and my "missed contact." The Airline bus left for the city a half hour after all other commercial transport and no one could convince me during the wait our bus ever would leave. It did finally, driven by a surly guy who resented a civilian passenger. The bus dropped me at the isolated airline office parking lot next to the recommended Clarks Shiraz Hotel. They demanded a room rate of $74 with no quibbling. At that hour looking for an alternative was out of the question.  

The next day I walked toward the Taj Mahal monument and found the deluxe $35 Park Plaza Hotel, an excellent value and only a fifteen minute walk north to the monument. I found a link to a city map HERE. I've previously been in Agra twice before, but being so close on my way to Delhi it seemed a shame not to make a brief third visit. The monument is an architectural wonder, no doubt about it. The symmetry is overwhelming. 

Agra is a pleasant change from the other cities I've visited in India this time around, clean and orderly for the most part. The usual clutch of touts hovered around the entrance to the Taj Mahal grounds offering bad advice and guide services, all of which I ignored. So much has been written about the Taj Mahal itself it seems superfluous to say more.

The first day I walked around the back of the monument grounds and discovered a crematorium next to the river. Several funeral pyres sat ready for bodies on raised stone platforms covered with sand. The facility also had many plain iron gratings ready for more cremations. A corpse lay next to one of the stone platforms covered with flowers, a pile of wood already stacked ready for the fire. Off to the side a group of men carried a bag of ashes from a previous cremation wrapped in a reed mat down to the river's edge, dug a hole and buried it in the sand. A hauntingly lovely popular Buddhist chant played over and over in the background as the funeral dirge. No women were present; only men. A watchful priest sat near the Hindu temple on the property. An unusual scent of incense hung in the air. There were three cremations under preparation. As male mourners arrived they carried arm-loads of wood for the fires. The first group set their little bonfire ablaze promptly at noon. I later learned only special people are cremated so early in the day, that later in the afternoon one could expect to see scores of bodies committed to the fires.  

On the way back I detoured into some undeveloped woods surrounding the monument grounds to get a better look at the Taj Mahal from the outside. An aggressive guy on a bicycle followed me partway down the path blocking my way out and demanded "I want pen!" I looked him in the eye and replied "I want pen!" with the emphasis on the "I." He retorted "You can buy more." I slipped around his bike and briskly walked back to civilization without looking back wondering what his next move might be.  

On another walk near the hotel I met a carpet finisher in his shop across the street from a new mosque currently under construction. He told me Muslims and Hindus live in harmony in his mostly Muslim neighborhood, though there had been politically inspired conflict between people of the two faiths the week before a few kilometers away. As I walked the area admiring the unfinished mosque a crowd gathered to watch me taking pictures. Some of the kids asked for my pens. Later outside the Muslim neighborhood a young boy of about ten chanted in quick succession: "Gimme 10 Rupees. Gimme one Rupee. Gimme 100 Rupees." It seemed he might not know what the words actually meant and wanted to cover all possibilities. I hear quite a few people happily singing Indian melodies on the streets. However, the hotel is the only place I ever heard western music being played. 

Periodically I bundle up no longer needed maps, hotel brochures, and receipts and mail them back home by slow sea mail. The main post office is situated half way across town so I hired a rickshaw to take me the twenty minutes distance. Once there I discovered bedlam. The disorder made me wonder how anyone other than the most determined ever succeeds in sending or receiving mail. Finally, an employee with limited English walked me into the dusty bowels of the chaotic operation, behind the public service windows where lackadaisical postal employees pretended to serve the crowd of people waiting to send mail on the public side.

I got special treatment because I had international mail to process. As it turned out, several others also had important international mail as well; one danced around a pile of perhaps twenty packages wrapped in cloth and stitched closed awaiting processing. I asked him how long he had been waiting and learned he had been there twenty minutes. Surveying the work that had to be processed ahead of me, I made some disgusted sound and started to walk out. Someone who appeared to be a supervisor blocked my way and gestured to the vacant desk indicating the missing employee would soon return to his duties. I thanked him for the information and added in a disgruntled voice that I wanted to send a package today, gesturing toward the other waiting guys and their mountains of packages. With that he called the errant postal clerk back to work immediately and told him things in a language I could not understand. Instantly, the irritated guy grabbed my package, weighed it and thrust it back at me with some notations added. The supervisor then walked me to another desk where the necessary postage fee was paid, a metered stamp produced and affixed to my package. The supervisor took my now processed package and tossed it on a pile with others, indicating we were through. Looking back sheepishly at the still waiting guys who had been ahead of me, I gestured helplessness and they responded in kind. So much for the Indian Postal Service.  

During the rickshaw ride back to the hotel, the driver pleaded with me to take a look at an "art store," adding that he would be paid 20 Rupees for even a brief five minute stop. I agreed and found myself running a gauntlet of hard sell experts who were determined I should not leave empty handed. To be honest, the stores did have some truly beautiful crafts and art and at very reasonable prices. 

Now I am off to Delhi to figure out how to get into western China. Ambiguous information suggests it may be possible to fly into Pakistan and then on into China now that India and  Pakistan are again talking to one another. My first stop in Delhi will be the Chinese Embassy... or a travel agent. Reliable information is hard to come by in this part of the world, so serendipity will play a large role in my next moves. That is all the observations I have from this famous place, so I'll close. 

Peace,
Fred L Bellomy

PS: Yes I know it is a month later, but I am slowly getting caught up here in Lanzhou China. F

Peace,
Fred L Bellomy


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken off to the left of the entrance partway down the walkway towards the monument.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. These are the stairs we climb from the "dirty" grounds to the clean protected inner part of the monument.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. One of the four minarets, said to be the second highest in all of India.


AGRA: These three men sat enjoying the shade cast by one of the towering minarets. I admired their bright blue turbans and asked if they were Sikhs and why they weren't wearing the usual turbans. They were Sikhs, but chose to wear the informal "short" turban today. The ones we usually see are the "long turbans." Notice the metal bracelet on the wrist of the center guy; all Sikhs wear them.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. One of the four minarets, said to be the second highest in all of India. This shot gives some idea how large the columns are.


AGRA: Looking back towards the entrance to the park from the entrance area of the Taj Mahal.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken from the right side just after noon. building.


AGRA: One of the smaller temples on the Taj Mahal monument grounds.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. Again, halfway back from the monument along the central walkway from the entrance.


AGRA: While I stood admiring the construction work on the new mosque a group of people assembled to watch me take pictures. Pretty soon these boisterous kids were trying to get in the pictures and I obliged.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken off to the left after noon.

 
End

 

 

 


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken halfway towards the monument to show I actually did make it here.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken halfway towards the monument off to the left.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This is one of the several places people leave their shoes before climbing the stairs onto the monument itself.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This is one of the several places people leave their shoes before climbing the stairs into the Taj.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This is one of the several places people leave their shoes before climbing the stairs into the Taj. This is the option I chose: little red booties to slip on over my street shoes.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This is one of the several places people leave their shoes before climbing the stairs into the Taj. To cover my shoes I chose a little red booties.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. The entrance to the main building.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. The entrance to the main building where "official" guides promote their services. As I am a lover of serendipity, I declined to be told what I was supposed to see.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. Visitors approach the entrance to the main building.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. All photography is supposed to end at the entrance to the main building.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. One of the four minarets around the main building, said to be the second highest in all of India.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. One of the four minarets, said to be the second highest in all of India. The size of people around the base gives some idea how large the columns are.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. One of the four minarets, said to be the second highest in all of India.


AGRA: One of the two buildings flanking the Taj Mahal.


AGRA: Looking down on the area where people are being given booties to cover their dirty shoes.


AGRA: The top of the stairs up from the "dirty" area.


AGRA: Visitors around the single entrance door into the main building.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. One of the four minarets, as seen from below the foundation platform.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken halfway towards the monument. That's better; my face is out of the way.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken halfway towards the monument. Still staggering on toward the actual monument itself.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken halfway back from the monument.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. This shot is taken of visitors who have just entered the grounds.


AGRA: The Taj Mahal. On either side of the entrance facing the monument are long arched covered walkways.


AGRA: While I stood admiring the construction work on the new mosque a group of people assembled to watch me take pictures. Pretty soon these boisterous kids were trying to get in the pictures and I obliged.


AGRA: As I busied myself photographing her kids, Mom watched on.


AGRA: While I stood admiring the construction work on the new mosque Mr. Manzoor Khan smiled and answered some of my questions. After this picture I suggested another, but with a smile this time; he obliged.


AGRA: This is the picture after he agreed to smile. I'd hate to see him frown!


AGRA: Another view of the new minaret showing part of the neighborhood near the Park Plaza Hotel.

 

Reference photo: author
 August 2002
 

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