Agra and the Taj Mahal

Dear all,

I was booked to take a 7am express train from Delhi to Agra to see the Taj Mahal, returning at 8:30pm that evening to get into Delhi at about 11pm. To tell the truth I was not looking forward to it. It would be a long, tiring day, I was not convinced there was enough in Agra to keep me occupied for twelve hours and I expected that I would be spending the day alone.

From chance or good planning I found that I was seated next to two fellow travellers - a man in his twenties from Japan and an attractive woman in her thirties from South Korea. The woman from South Korea seemed keen to chat and exchange tales of recent travels. The man from Japan may have been keen to chat also but we couldn't because he didn't speak much English. I was seated at the window, the man next to me and the woman next to him. As a result conversation quickly lapsed, nobody really likes talking across another (too much leaning and it seems impolite). Instead we attended to our complimentary breakfasts and the view.

Indians don't do well at Western style breakfasts. The slices of bread are thin, slightly sweet and lacking in any texture or taste, the jam on offer is usually labelled "mixed fruit" with no fruit discernible within the formless pink paste, and the eggs are unseasoned and boiled. On the other hand, the Indian breakfasts - usually Chai, chapati (always wholewheat) and dhal, or maybe samosa with sauce - are consistently excellent. I've taken to discarding my egg and toast every time.

This time I made the mistake of trying the hard mango sweet that came with the breakfast. It tasted like paint.

Over the first ten minutes of our journey I hatched a simple plan. I would walk with these two other independent travellers out of station, catch a tuk tuk with them to the hotel area near the Taj Mahal (both were staying the night) and at some point along the way suggest that we see the Taj Mahal together. I was quite proud of my plan - one simple question had the potential to transform a day (with a slim chance of transforming some distant days thereafter also).

Outside the station the Japanese man went his own way - his hotel was in a different direction. This was acceptable. For her part the Korean woman seemed glad to have a chaperone to her hotel - it's usually fine for a foreign woman to take a tuk tuk alone in India but you hear stories.

At the hotel I sat down on a ledge while the girl completed her check in and found her room. As she headed to her room she saw me sitting there and looked surprised. "Are you waiting for me?", she asked. I realised that I hadn't actually asked if she'd like to see the Taj together but had only assumed it. I asked her if she would like to see the Taj together. She accepted and looked pleased. She was concerned however that I would mind waiting whilst she got herself sorted in her room. I didn't mind waiting.

As we walked out of the hotel and headed in the direction in which we assumed we would find the Taj, trying our best to ignore the occasionally obstructive touts and tuk tuk drivers calling "Hello friend!" and "Where are you from?", I realised that I hadn't yet asked her name. I did so and learnt that her name was Gayeong. I tried hard to remember how to pronounce it.

Surprisingly we found the Taj Mahal ticket office directly with no wrong turns. We were charged the foreigner rate of 750 rupees each. We moved swiftly away, ignoring offers from badged and unbadged guides alike, then Gayeong apologised, saying she needed to sit to have a smoke. Such lack of hurry was entirely acceptable, we had the entire day. I shooed away offers of Taj snowglobes whilst she smoked almost in peace.

Inside the Taj Mahal looked like a postcard. A beautiful, shimmering, curved white construction simply sat alone not far away, looking like it had been painted on the blue for the enjoyment of the aesthetically minded by someone tired of the sight of piles of rubbish and shacks. I couldn't tell how big it was but regardless of the size it appeared correct, well formed and pristine, a rarity of late.

Inside we tried to locate a good spot for us to take pictures of ourselves with one another's cameras. Despite my repeated best intentions photography remains the top priority for me in such spots. I still don't understand why because I am sure plenty of high resolution images of this building already exist and I already have pictures of myself as well as mirrors. It must be for bragging rights, or for proof of a visit, lest anyone think that I am only telling stories here, that these are wholly fictional and I am not in India but instead ensconced safely in the cubicle of a library.

There was little relief at the Taj Mahal; the patterns were made by rock and precious stones set flush with the white marble.

Gayeong and I chatted while we strolled. We talked about our work, past relationships, why we are travelling and our lives back home. It was pleasant to share those things once again. I did notice that my answer to the question, "why did you split up with your wife, if you don't mind me asking?" is evolving over time. It may do for some years to come.

I counted myself fortunate because I felt like there was little we weren't able to talk about. That may not have been true but the free flow of the conversation left me with that impression. I discovered that she works as the voice director / translator for Blizzard Entertainment in South Korea, the creators of World of Warcraft, Diablo and Starcraft. Some of these games are incredibly popular in Korea (competitive. games of Starcraft are televised and watched by millions) so it's quite a responsibility, and also, I imagine, quite fun.

Our wanders were occasionally interrupted by requests for photos. Not just young men now, young women approached Gayeong and asked for her photo. A mother asked her for a photo of Gayeong holding her child. Apparently this is not the first time this has happened. She hasn't been able to figure out why the mothers have this desire. The only explanation we could come up with is the association of nobility with paleness of skin. Out of curiosity, we compared the whiteness of our arms. They were equally light but of different shades.

We met another Korean traveller, a rarity in India. Gayeong chatted with her and asked her to take a photo of us in front of the Taj Mahal.

I really wanted to put my arm round her for this photo but wasn't sure whether I should. I erred on the side of caution.

It did not take long to walk round the site. I think both of us think it should have taken longer so as we walked out we kept glancing over our shoulders to note once more this "wonder of the world". 

Outside we determined that both of us wished to continue our mutual exploration of Agra. It was also only 1pm. We knew there was another attraction called Agra Fort about half an hour's walk away. I encouraged walking over tuk tuk, imagining wonderful street food and colourful spectacle between here and there. Alas it was just a barren highway. We caught a tuk tuk.

Agra Fort turned out to be more palace than fort. The fort aspects of it were currently in use by the Indian military, leaving the palace as the main attraction. This works well because installations for royalty are usually plusher than installations for soldiers. Indians put their ancient buildings to good use. Some make good homes for bats, others house cattle or laundry, nearly all have groups muttering and prostrating before a shrine, very few are fenced off and all feel very... alive. Some are genuinely forgotten, but that's alright because then they are forgotten by touts, ticket sellers and fencers also.

It was easy and pleasant to get lost in the many rooms of this palace. It had a full size mosque, a mini mosque, gardens designed according to Islamic geometric patterns and a little tower for use as a prison. The Mughal who built the Taj Mahal for his dead wife was overthrown by his son and imprisoned in the tower room of his own palace. Fortunately this room has a good room of the Taj, allowing him to he spend the final nine years of his life in prison gazing at the achievement of his lifetime wondering whether he should have spent less time waging wars and building monuments and more time teaching his son good manners.

It was a hot day and we were very tired so we sat down to rest in the alcove of a window. It was sahdy and there was a cool breeze blowing from the open spaces on the other side of the wall. We may have attracted many curious stares - I don't know because I was looking out the window (across the river, at the Taj) and at Gayeong. We sat quietly for some time. There's two types of silences you can have with another. One is where you're trying to think of the right thing to say next. The other is where you're not. This silence was of the latter kind.

Eventually we moved on, back to the heat and light and touristic obligations. Fortunately we decided to leave our sightseeing of Agra at the Taj and Fort only and retire to a rooftop restaurant to have lunch.

We picked one of the taller roofs that Gayeong thought had been mentioned in her guidebook. In practice they all appeared to be the same but of different height. There we had Thalis and the ubiquitous Kingfisher beer. Beer was not on the menu, this being a Muslim town, but it was available on request.

We talked about video game dialogue translation and whether it is inevitable that over many years a relationship will devolve into "just good friends" with little romantic connection, as it did with my parents, as it did with me and my wife. She thought it was, I think it is not.

The afternoon was beginning to sit heavy on us. Both of us were yawning, having had early starts and late nights. I knew that if I were in her place I would want to retire to my hotel room for a nap.

It was as I predicted. Now came the tricky point of determining what I would do now and next. If she wanted to simply part, so be it. If she wanted to meet later that evening that would be fine also. But as at that point I was feeling practical minded and sleepy I asked her if I might have a nap also on her other bed. I was aware of how this question might be taken.

She refused saying that it would be "culturally inappropriate" for her. This seemed an odd thing to say - if she was British a refusal would have entirely reasonable also. I understood (though not without a small pang of disappointment) and ambled off to find another rooftop restaurant. There I yawned and ordered caffeinated products while slowly reading (and often rereading) a passage in The Magic Mountain where the hero reads a biology textbook and daydreams about the many poorly understood and hidden workings of the human body.

At 5pm I returned to her room and knocked on the door. She let me lie on the other bed for a little while (with the door left open) before we made our way upstairs to dinner. Later in the day simpler solutions are preferred and the hotel restaurant is the simplest. 

After spending all day together conversation was beginning to dry up but I did not mind so much. A day out has its natural beginning, middle and end and ours was drawing to a close. It was at that point that she related the term "single serving friend" from Fight Club. Even though I acknowledged its truth I protested - I did not want this temporary friendship from being so tidily dismissed. Of course we exchanged email addresses, added each other on Facebook and promised to look one another up If I were ever in South Korea or she in the UK - all largely symbolic gestures designed to communicate our desire to continue friendship even though that is realistically impossible. However there would be more people to meet and some of them would live in the UK. I would be meeting most of them the next day.

Stephen