Raju's Ancestral Village
My driver is a Brahmin, born into the hereditary class of Indian priests. He gently coaxes our small white sedan through an enormous mud puddle and sounds his horn at a doe-eyed cow sauntering lazily through the middle of the road. We've been bumping and weaving for nearly four hours on our way to visit his village. The road narrows and the vegetation thins with every mile that clouds up in the dust behind us. Raju's smile sparkles as he looks at me in the rear view mirror. "We are very close now. You will meet my grandfather soon."
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Tombs of the Qutb Shahi
We are creeping slowly down the steep stone steps in pitch black, except for two tiny birthday cake candles, one in each of my guide's hands. Thick swarms of mosquitos cloud around the candles, momentarily distracted from lunch (me) by the weak flames. The six hundred year old stones are cool under my bare feet, but the air is thick and soupy. One hand on the wall, one on the ceiling, I slip my toes forward, searching for the edge of the step to keep from flailing down towards the burial chamber below.
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A Visit to the Taj Mahal
The Taj Mahal is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Breathtakingly sublime, from the first glimpse in the distance, all the way to a close eyeball's inspection of the tiniest stone flower inlays, it's hard to imagine just how this thing could have possibly been summoned into this universe by human hands. It's enormous and, at the same time, exquisitely detailed. The white marble structure is reflected in a long watery garden, at the center of 3 enormous stone gates. At the very center of the entire complex, directly under the central dome, rests a Mughal Emperor's queen and just to one side, as if as an afterthought, rests the Emperor himself.
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