To those who claim the Taj Mahal was built by traitors and their very names must be excised from history, I will offer no plea on its tremulous beauty that caused the Bard to liken it to a 'teardrop on the cheek of time'. Nor will I draw attention to the obvious fact of it being a world heritage site, drawing millions of tourists from India and abroad.
These are facts and, like pearls, must not be cast before swine. Instead, let me present an alternative reading of the Taj, one presented by Urdu poets, especially the progressive poets; for, Urdu poetry can be relied upon to provide a contrarian, Catholic view on almost anything on God's earth!
Deconstructing the image of the monument to love, Sahir Ludhianvi finds this showy exhibitionistic declaration of love an insult to the love of ordinary mortals, who cannot afford an emperor's self indulgence. Sahir's Taj Mahal deserves to be quoted in full to appreciate his scorn and derision for a love that is so ostentatious:
Translation:
For you the Taj may well be a mere manifestation of love
And you may be attached to this beautiful setting
But, my love, meet me somewhere else
For what place do the poor have in this assembly of royals
On those paths that are engraved with the signs of power and royalty
What meaning can the passage of love-filled souls have on it?
My love, behind the curtains of professions of constancy
If only you had seen the signs of power and authority
O you, who are pacified by the mausoleums of dead royals
If only you had seen the darkness of your own homes
Countless numbers of people have loved in this world
Who says that their emotions were not true?
But they did not have the provisions of publicity
Because those people were poor like you and me
This building, these graves, this enclosure, this fortress
These pillars bearing testimony to an emperor's unconditional supremacy
These are festering wounds on the chest of the world, ancient wounds
Mingled in them is the blood of your ancestors, and mine
My love, they too would have loved
Whose craftsmanship has bestowed amazing architectural beauty upon it
The graves of their loved ones have remained unmarked, unlit
No one has lit so much as a paper lantern on their graves
This garden, this river bank beside the Jamuna, this palace
This sculpted door and wall, this archway, this niche,
An emperor has taken the assistance of all his wealth
And made fun of the love of poor people like us
My love, meet me somewhere else
And in much the same way, there is Kaifi Azmi, fellow member of the progressive writers' movement, urging his beloved whom he addresses as his 'friend' to come away from the Taj Mahal:
My friend, I have seen the Taj Mahal
... let us go back
A diamond boiling over with alabaster flowers
Silvery minarets blazing in the fire of the moon
Winking continuously at the poet's mind
The grand and alluring mausoleum of an empress
Like a question, it flashed through the mind's eye
The thought of those who lie in the streets like corpses
Whose nerves and sinews shrink lifelessly
Whose skulls smash like cymbals in the heat
My friend, I have seen the Taj Mahal
... let us go back
In this dome like the beating heart of Shahjahan
The smiling face of an empress on its walls
Glittering from every layer satire and discrimination
Over which history puts the mask of love
I swear by the moonlight and by this world of wonders
Like a canal of milk coming to the boil
So too does this scene meets the traveler's gaze
One who is reminded of the fate of Farhad
My friend, I have seen the Taj Mahal
... let us go back
This gleaming threshold, this be crowned dome
It is these marvels that have encouraged the worship of graves
Even the stars are perforce to bow in prostration
Such is the boudoir of the much-adored empress
Not a palace but a clearly visible division this is
Like smoke on the face of life, like the dance of light on a grave
Spreading across this garden tomb as soon as its hem shrinks
May many life-filled funerals find such mausoleums
My friend, I have seen the Taj Mahal
... let us go back
Then, there are the more conventional responses to the spectacular beauty of the Taj, such as this by Mahshar Badayuni:
Allah main yeh Taj Mahal dekh raha huun
Ya pahlu-e-Jamuna mein kanval dekh raha huun
Dear God is it the Taj Mahal I am seeing
Or is it a lotus blooming beside the Yamuna
And this by Sikandar Ali Wajd:
Jadu nigah-e ishq ka patthar pe chal gaya
Ulfat ka khwaab qalib marmar pe dhal gaya
The magic of love's glance has worked on stone
The dream of adoration has been cast in marble
And by Waris Kirmani:
Jaane kis taazgii-e fikr ka izhaar kiya
Waqt ke husn gurezaan ko giraftaar kiya
Such freshness of the imagination it reflects
Capturing the fleeting beauty of time
But the most fitting response to the hate mongers who have already excised the very mention of the Taj from the Uttar Pradesh tourism booklet and are calling it a 'blot on Indian culture' comes from Seemab Akbarabadi:
Kaash phir duniya aur ek Shahejahan paida karey
Kaash phir ho khaak se jism-e muhabbat jalwagar
If only the world were to produce another Shahjahan
If only another monument to love were to rise from this soil of graves.
Video Editor: Mohd Ibrahim
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