CHENNAI: It was a marvel in a wiser shade of red. As I went past the dry, dusty terrain and entered a mammoth arch gate in the complex, it was the “wah” moment of me, giving me goosebumps and a lump in my throat. The avuncular establishment comprised myriad tombs and structures in red sandstone, sourced from the then local quarries. This was Fatehpur Sikri, Akbar’s dream city, prose written with honesty and sincerity, with a verse dedicated to a Sufi saint, Salim Chisti, in the form of a quaint dargah.
As I walked past the Agra Gate into its precincts, I could feel the vibrations of the era gone by. It was a treat to just stare at the pristine red walls and traverse on the spacious terraces defining the edifices. As my eyes feasted on the façade and the sober interiors, I could feel the vibrant presence of the past. I was at the receiving end of history’s hospitality. It was like interacting with the Statesman himself on the ideals of secularism, of tolerance, of faith and of trust, emotions that have become all the more relevant in these troubled times.
My pulse went racing as I stepped into the Ibaadat Khana, where emperor Akbar is said to have defined the faith of tolerance, of syncretism, called the Din-e-Ilahi, sending a delightful chill down my spine.
Exactly 45 km away, stood the Taj Mahal, oozing magnificence in its Mughalness, an extravagant ode to love and beauty. Its sheer opulence was overbearing, even intimidating. This was a poetry of love engraved in cold marble that was once studded with precious stones (once, because the stones are now in glass cases in the British museum).
This was Shah Jahan’s epic tribute to his young wife, Mumtaz, who died during childbirth. This expensively crafted love epic, somehow for me, lacked spontaneity. It is opulent, grand, beautiful, but it remains just that. It could be admired from a distance. But could it become an emotion? Not for me. Its lyrics lacked the warmth of Fatehpur Sikri; its richness lacked the romance of Akbar’s idealism; its gorgeousness, too perfect for love. But Taj is and will always be the cynosure of global eyes and continue to play host to high-profile guests. Small wonder, that America’s First Family had to stop over there for a photo-op. After all, grandeur does attract joy. But happiness? Make your own judgement!
subhashini dinesh