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We woke up at 6:45 a.m. Mukul arrived at our door at 7 with a tray of Darjeeling tea and biscuits. We decided to have our tea with Mukul and Sunita down in the garden. It was nice to see Mukul's garden in the daytime. Mukul showed us the terra cotta pots embedded into the wall where he hopes parakeets will roost. We admired his rack full of potted bonsais, and his turtle and fish ponds. He also had various pieces of terra cotta statuary that he had bought on various trips around the country.
A man came to the door to deliver fresh eggplants, and another man came to deliver fresh milk, pouring it into a cup for Sunita from a stainless steel jug. We thought of how convenient this arrangement is - the fresh produce and dairy products come to you. We went upstairs to shower, and then reconvened at the dining table for an 8:45 breakfast. Sunita was preparing fresh palak poori, bhaji, and coffee. It was absolutely delicious. We also tried some cashew marzipan sweets wrapped in silver leaf. After breakfast we got ready for the day and met our driver Rajendra at the car at around 9:30. We took the short drive to the more rural outskirts of town to the Colonel’s Brightland Public school, which Mukul and his family established seven years ago. Students were milling around the campus, and we noticed that the school owns about a dozen school buses. Students in uniforms gathered around us. They all seemed very excited and were very interested in us. It reminded us of the reactions of the students at the school in Kori-Maounde, Mali. Mukul has done the landscaping on the campus and it looks gorgeous. There are trees and beautiful flowers and shrubs everywhere. A sign titled "Birds of Our Neighbourhood" showed names and pictures of 40 different species of birds. As an avid bird-lover, we suspect that Mukul had something to do with the installation of this particular sign. The schoolyard had some playground equipment. Some older students were playing a game of badminton. A teacher taught a lesson to a group of students under the shade of a tree. The school consists of two modern buildings, one of which houses science labs on the ground floor and early childhood classrooms (nursery, upper- and lower- kindergarten) upstairs. The basement of this building is auditorium space which had some flood damage from the past few days. Mukul took us down there while he assessed the damage. Due to the way the building was constructed, it was luckily more just cleanup work than actual structural damage. Nothing that a shovel and a mop wouldn't take care of. As we walked through the grounds and into this building, the older students were curious about us and waved, smiled, and stared at us. We went into a kindergarten classroom where the teacher was reciting Little Miss Muffet to her young students in English. The kids were distracted by our presence and found it difficult to focus on the teacher. We waved and moved along. Then we went into the nursery classroom (ages 3 and 4) and the little ones looked absolutely terrified of us. Mukul then brought us into the second building, which houses the computer room, library, offices, and upper classrooms. We were very impressed by all that they have managed to do here. When Mukul had said that he was involved with the founding of a school, we hadn't imagined anything along the lines of this scale. They have done a very impressive job. As we were driving away from the school, Mukul asked Rajendra to stop, and he rolled down the window to talk to a pumpkin vendor. Mukul purchased a green pumpkin. The seller weighed it on a two pan balance. Mukul paid for it and the seller didn't have any change, so he threw in an extra pumpkin. As we passed through farmland on the way back to the main road, we saw some small mud structures with conical roofs which reminded us of granaries we had seen in Dogon country, except that these were round rather than square. As we drove back toward the center of Agra, there was so much to look at. Vendors pushed carts piled high with brightly colored fruits and vegetables. Slabs of white marble stood on their edges, ready to be sold. We thought of how much those would be worth at home. Vendor's stalls were bedecked with flower leis and piles of small terra cotta pots, which Mukul said were being sold for Karva Chauth festival. Mukul pointed out that women were dressed in their finest saris today, and would be purchasing the terra cotta pots and bangle bracelets in preparation for the evening's festivities. Women in bright saris rode side-saddle on motorbikes. We passed a billboard advertising the Colonel's Brightland Public School and snapped a photo. We drove through some nice tree-lined streets. Mukul pointed out the grounds of a hotel where part of his son Sukumar's wedding festivities would take place. We passed Hindu shrines as well as the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception (which looked strangely out-of-place, as we recognized its similarity to Spanish colonial architecture in Central/South America). A barber had a barber chair set up on the sidewalk, and was in the process of shaving a client. He had a little side table with all of his supplies (spray bottles, brushes, combs, etc.), and a mirror hung on the fence above them so that the client could watch him work. No barber shop required. It was pretty surreal. Street signs were also surreal here; at a single interchange there were signs for Fatehpur Sikhri, Taj Mahal, Jaipur, and Delhi. We drove into town to an optician’s office at a strip mall so that Mukul could get his glasses fixed. The small office was packed with customers, and we wondered how long this errand might take. Luckily, the place had enough employees to serve its customer base. We were led to the back of the store and seated at a table. Within five minutes, the repair was quickly finished and we were on our way once again. Sometimes it is very interesting to observe everyday occurrences like these, just to notice the cultural and societal similarities and differences to our lives in the U.S. We headed back out to the parking lot, got into the car, and proceeded along our siteseeing route. Rajendra pulled over to the side of one of the city streets. Mukul told us to get out here. The street was very busy with every conceivable type of conveyance (rickshaws, tuk-tuks, bicycles, ox carts, cars, cows...) and we needed to carefully cross two lanes of traffic. Mukul led the way and we followed timidly. We found ourselves facing a large wooden door with a monkey sitting on top, staring down at us. We squeezed through a tiny door within the huge door, and it made us feel like Alice in Wonderland. We emerged in the European Cemetery, a surprisingly secluded-feeling oasis in the midst of the city. The cemetery is on a plot of land given by Mughal Emperor Akbar to the Roman Catholic Mission. Dutch Colonel John William Hessing's Tomb here is also known as the "Red Taj Mahal", as it is indeed a small-scale replica of the landmark made of red sandstone. He is described on the plaque as having come to the area as a "free-lance adventurer". Where can we sign up for that job? Hessing died in 1803, so this is an example of Mughal-inspired architecture being built as late as the 19th century. The cemetery also contains monuments and gravestones for other Christian foreigners who were buried here. Some were marked by chhatris (architectural domes), others by more traditional western tombstones adorned with crosses. We exited through the small door within the large door, and found ourselves once again on the chaotic streets of Agra. We crossed two lanes of traffic and got back into the car. Next, Rajendra drove us to Akbar’s Tomb in the suburb of Sikandra. It had very impressive gates and the tomb itself was lovely. Akbar died in 1605, and his son Jahangir completed construction of his father's mausoleum in 1613. The tomb is made of red sandstone with white marble inlay of geometric star and floral motifs. Such Mughal architectural motifs coexist alongside Hindu elements, which exemplifies the openmindedness which characterized Akbar's politics. Brick aqueducts had once carried water from a well throughout the complex via channels in the red sandstone patios. Inside the tomb, the multi-faceted ceiling corbels (known as muqarnas) in one of the chambers were painted in gold and royal blue, and somewhat resembled stars in the night sky. Metal lanterns hung from the ceiling. Jali screens sealed off the inner chamber, in which we saw Akbar's marble grave, with offerings of marigolds on top of it. We recognized the "pencil-box motif" in the marble, indicating that the tomb belonged to a male. The grounds were meticulously kept - sandstone plazas with water channels running through them, vast green lawns with shady trees with black buck antelopes grazing. The noonday sun was very intense as we walked around the grounds, and we ducked into shade as often as possible. Three small Indian children were posing for a picture in front of the tomb. Two little girls in red outfits and gold embroidery flanked their small brother, who was wearing a pair of sunglasses. We headed back to the car and Mukul told us that our next stop would be a Sikh temple called Guru-ka-taal Gurudwara. We didn't know a whole lot about the Sikh religion, though we had once met a friendly Sikh man back home at a mutual friend's house. (It was during the Olympics one year and we discussed how some of the commentators during the Opening Ceremony had seemed disrespectful to some of the patricipating cultures). In a post-9/11 world, he explained that life can be tough for someone of his faith, because Americans wrongfully mistake their turbans as the sign of Muslim extremists. As Rajendra parked the car, we noticed a lot of Tata trucks parked along the sides of the highway. We approached the temple complex from a large open area. White lines painted on the ground converged at the temple complex. It was built this way to control large crowds; the place obviously could sustain many more simultaneous visitors than were here today. Before entering the temple, we took off our shoes and left them with a man behind a counter. There was an outdoor sink where we were asked to wash our hands. Then we walked through a trough of water to wash our bare feet. We also covered our heads with our hats and entered the temple. A man in an orange turban was reading aloud from the Sikh holy book Guru Granth Sahib. A family was sitting on the floor listening to him. We tried to be very observant and take note of all that was going on around us. A man sat with a bowl full of a paste made of clarified butter, sugar, and water. He scooped up a bit of the mixture with his right hand and handed it to each of us as we were leaving the temple. Now, this goes against just about everything you are taught in terms of eating and staying healthy abroad. Was that made with botted water? I'm guessing not. Nonetheless, we took it straight from the man's fingers and popped it into our mouths. Mukul ate it and we took our cue from him; we wanted to take part in the tradition. It was tasty, and for the record, we felt no ill effects later. Then we went next door to what is essentially a cafeteria where Sikh volunteers prepare food and feed anyone who shows up. This explained all of the trucks parked outside: the Sikh truck drivers will come here for lunch. They will feed anyone of any faith or economic status, and they immediately came over to us and asked if we wanted something to eat. What a wonderful service to provide in a country where poverty and hunger are problems for so many people. Although we didn't take them up on their offer (we had more stops to make this afternoon and Mukul graciously declined) we thought that it was incredibly kind of them to offer. Next we drove through the Rada Soami section of Agra. They are a faith which has been building a temple here called the Holy Samadh since 1928.They insist on everything being absolutely perfect, which has prevented its completio for nearly a century. We were able to go inside the temple complex but no bags or cameras were allowed, so Mukul stayed outside with our things. The temple itself is a blend of gothic, arabesque, and Indian architecture. Everything was made of marble. Various shades of marble were used: green, pink, and white. They also use pietra dura techniques. Construction was going on as we watched. Men were working up on staging. We saw some half-hewn pieces of marble and some pieces of columns which were all numbered according to where they should be placed. There were some carvings of roses that looked incredibly life-like. It was all amazing workmanship, and we wished we could have taken some photos. Mukul bought us some Fanta and mango juice and we got back into the car. We passed stalls selling fruits, vegetables, locks and keys, a pushcart piled high with potato chips, vendors selling terra cotta pots for tonight's festival, and a man cleaning people's ears while sitting on the sidewalk. Next we headed to Babur’s Garden. The Ram Bagh is the oldest Mughal garden in India, having been built by Babur in 1528. It is also variously known as the Light-Scattering Garden or Flower-Scattering Garden. Babur found the climate of India to be very hot. He wanted to mimic the climate of Kabul, so he built water gardens on the banks of the Yamuna River. Babur's great-grandson Jahangir then renovated the gardens in 1615. Monkeys greeted us at the gate as we entered. The lawns here were very green, and we walked down sandstone pathways past channels where water had once cascaded down three terrace levels. Chhatri domes dotted the landscape. You could peek inside some and see the remnants of paintings. We walked the length of the garden and wound up on a terrace overlooking the Yamuna River. The water which once flowed through the grounds was drawn up from the river by waterwheels. As we walked around, we attracted the attention of several young men. These harmless admirers followed us for a while and then sat on the lawn watching us. We watched the birds in the grass and the orchard of fruit trees. Then we went to Chini Ka Rauza. Rajendra dropped us off at the street and we walked down a path through some plant nurseries. It certainly didn't look like we were on our way to any kind of monument. But, sure enough, we popped at a small patch of lawn, on which stood a tomb. There were few tourists here, and local kids played on the small well-manicured grounds. According to Agra Hub: "The Chini ka Rauza was built in 1635 and is the tomb of Allama Afzal Khan Mullah of Shiraz, a scholar and poet who was the Prime Minister of the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan. The tomb gets its name from the colorful tiles (chini) that cover the walls of the tomb. The tomb is built in a rectangular shape and is topped with a bulbous dome. The tomb itself is made of a brown colored stone and is crumbling away. The colorful enamel tiles in blue, green and yellow, that give the tomb its name can be seen on its walls. The walls and ceiling of the tomb are also decorated with inscriptions and inlay work."It's really amazing and the exterior glazed tile work was unlike anything we had seen so far in India. Inside were marble tombs. The ceilings were gorgeous examples of muqarnas (decorative geometric corbel niches) painted pink, gold, and blue. But the monument is in dire need of protection and restoration. Time and the elements have taken their toll on the structure. Some of the exterior tiles are missing, and those that remain have vearying degrees of color left to them. The problem is the sheer number of historic places like this which exist within India. There aren't resources to restore and protect them all. We walked back to the car and Rajendra drove us to Itimad-ud-Duala which had been one of our favorite sites on our first visit to India. As we approached it, Mukul asked if we remembered the story of Nur Jahan and the doves. This was the first story that Mukul had told us at our first meeting two years ago. It went like this: When Jahangir met Nur Jahan, he handed her two doves and told her to hold them until he returned. When he came back, she was only holding one dove. The other had flown away. He asked her how it flew away, and she laughed and let go of the second bird. "Like this!" He fell in love with her on the spot.Itimad-ud-Duala is the mausoleum commissioned by Nur Jahan for her father, Mirza Ghiyas Beg. It was built between 1622 and 1628. We walked through the sandstone entrance gate which was inlaid with white marble, and then approached the tomb itself, a lovely "jewel box" of white marble inlaid with semiprecious stones in the pietra dura technique. Even after having seen so much else in terms of Mughal architecture (including the Taj Mahal itself), this small tomb was still just as impressive and gorgeous as when we had first laid eyes on it soon after arriving in Agra in 2007. White marble muqarnas were intricately carved. The relief work was highlighted in the late afternoon sunlight. The floor is a dizzying pattern of geometric and floral shapes. Paintings with motifs of vases, flowers, trees, and caraffes decorate niches, and the same motifs exist as inlay work on the marble walls. Every surface - floors, wall, and ceiling - are wholly covered in decorations. The central chamber has an elaborately painted muqarna ceiling. Light filtered into the interior through jali screens. This time the buildings were under restoration and there was some staging up against the building, so it was difficult to get unobscured photos of the exterior (we used some creative perspectives to try to mask it). We walked around the grounds, which abutt the banks of the Yamuna River. We looked across the river to an industrial zone on the opposite bank. Next Rajendra drove us to the Mahtab-Bagh (Moonlight Gardens) on the opposite side of the Yamuna River from the Taj Mahal. We walked through green fields and gardens, and then all of a sudden the Taj came into view in the distance, looking especially white with the vibrant green foreground flora. It was incredibly impressive and seemed totally surreal, like a mirage. We hadn’t seen the Taj from this angle before (except for in books and on television). We walked towards the river and Mukul pointed out the large foundation of what had erroneously been described as the footprint for a Black Taj Mahal which Shah Jehan had supposedly planned on building as his own tomb. But this is all a myth – it is in actuality a large reflecting pool. In Shah Jehan’s day it was filled with water, and on full moon nights Shah Jehan would sit in these gardens and see the Taj reflected in the pool. Mukul took part in the investigation that proved out this theory and put the Black Taj Mahal myth to rest (though you will still hear local “guides” giving this erroneous information to tourists). In fact, we had seen a TV show documenting that exact investigation, and we fully recognized this view of the empty reflecting pool, the river, and the Taj beyond. We sat down and watched the sun sink into the haze with a view of the Taj. Tourists visiting the Taj looked like tiny specks, dwarfed by the enormous scale of the building. We saw some storks, egrets, and cormorants in the river. You can’t actually get to the river because of barbed wire fences. While trying to get photos without prominently featuring the barbed wire, I managed to get countless burrs embedded in my skirt, and it took a while to get them all free. It was the same skirt I had worn in the Sahara and had had the same problem there. We enjoyed sitting here enjoying a quiet moment away from the chaotic city with just a handful of other tourists. At 6 o’clock, we left, got back in the car, and had to wait in some heavy traffic on the bridge before arriving back at Mukul and Sunita’s house. Today is Karva Chauth, the fourth day after the winter full moon. It is a Hindu holiday on which married women wear their best saris and give terra cotta pots filled with food to other married women’s husbands. The women fast all day, and then perform pujas to pray for the safety and long lives of their husbands. We had seen a lot of these ritual terra cotta pots for sale while driving through the city this morning. Sunita and two female relatives performed their puja in the kitchen. One of the women gave Mukul a terra cotta pot filled with candy, flowers, and some money. They lit candles, chanted, arranged the pots seven times, chanting in Hindi “May your husband live forever.” They held a silver tray with a candle on it and moved it in a clockwise motion as they chanted. They had a shrine in the kitchen in front of which they did all of this. They handed me the tray as well, and I performed the motion, moving it in clockwise circles in front of the shrine. After all, I want my husband to have long life too! They were wearing their best saris and bangles. They had been fasting all day, and could only eat once they had seen the moon rise (which would not happen for a few hours). Sunita had thoughtfully arranged for a local girl to come over and draw henna patterns on my hand, something which I have always wanted to have done. This was the perfect opportunity, as it is something that they do for this festival anyway. So it was not a mere novelty for me. The girl took what looked like an icing cone full of henna and drew elaborate designs on my left forearm and palm. It was amazing how quickly she was able to create these intricate designs. When she was done with my palm, she flipped my hand over and drew some flowers down the back of my index finger. If the tip of the applicator became clogged, she would simply take the clog out with her fingers and rub it in her hair (henna is also commonly used in India as hair dye). The henna itself is like a muddy paste, and I needed to let it dry for around half an hour. We ate some of the sweets that the women had given Mukul. Sunita then served us dinner, though she herself was not allowed to eat yet. We had tikra, kheera ka raita, poori, alloo gobi, bangan matter. It was a lovely home-cooked meal. Craig and Mukul shared a beer and I had some mango juice. While my left hand was drying, I had only my right hand with which to eat. This is the polite custom anyway, but I found it just a little bit difficult to tear apart my poori one-handed. Sunita was always there to refill our plates if we ran low on anything, and we were all quite well-fed. We sat in the sitting room for a while, and Sunita went up to the roof to look for the moon, so that she could finally eat. I went upstairs and scraped off the crusted dried henna to reveal beautiful rust colored designs stained onto my flesh. We chatted with Mukul for a little while longer. We would be heading to the Taj for sunrise in the morning, so we all decided to go to bed early. The women, having finally seen the moon, were just getting ready to eat as We retired to our room at 8:45. I wrote in the journal of the day's extensive events, and went to sleep at 9:45. View Larger Map |
                 Karva Chauth puja (20 second clip) Karva Chauth puja (20 second clip) 
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