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Seeing Taj

 I have a picture of me age two seated next to my mother on the iconic bench in front of Taj Mahal. Its a black and white picture and there is a group of four men far away in the background. The day seems to be windy given how our hair is flying. This picture was taken on one of my father's business trips to Delhi that we joined him on. I have seen this picture many times in my childhood and never imagined an opportunity to re-create it someday. We now have a digital picture of the two of us in the same spot. The background of  the picture is crowded this time with hundreds of people - its a bright spring day, shortly after sunrise.

My mother's face is full of naiveté in that old picture. She is at once hopeful and helpless. She wants her story to unfold like in her dreams but she has no power or agency to impact any of the outcomes as a housewife with no college education and no avocation other than being a wife and mother.

It is no surprise that she believes in the power of prayers - that she does have control over. So here we are again - she is completely grey. Her face bears signs the ups and downs in her life, there is nothing naive left there but she has aged very well. Some dreams came true at a cost she did not expect to pay. Others did not and there were happy surprises along the way. She looks content in this picture even if there are no dreams left in her eyes.

It felt like an achievement to have made it this far. Among the iconic monuments I have seen in my life, the Taj Mahal is one of those where reality well exceeded my imagination and expectations. The symmetry of the structure is absolutely mesmerizing and its impossible to believe it could have been created by mortal hands. The white marble brought meringue to mind many times, all set to float away and melt into space. 

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