Taj acquires a different hue at different time of the day. You might have seen Taj 15 times but when you return back to see it 16th times, you will find it something different from the earlier visit.
The Taj at noon, the Taj at sunset, under the full moon, against the setting sun, and against the rising ball of fire, each time the mausoleum acquires a different accent and tells a different story. It was a reminder of the love of a king for his queen Mumtaz Mahal who could inspire such a monument and also of the king himself who could sign his love across the horizon.
Whichever story it tells, there is a certain vulnerability, a softness about Taj Mahal that always touches the visitor. The white structure, actually nothing but a grave and yet so much more, stands unassumingly in spite of the yellowing pollution retaining a certain charm that takes the breath away.
Whichever story it tells, there is a certain vulnerability, a softness about Taj Mahal that always touches the visitor. The white structure, actually nothing but a grave and yet so much more, stands unassumingly in spite of the yellowing pollution retaining a certain charm that takes the breath away.
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