Mumtaz, my bulbul, they’ve voted the Taj

Amidst the blooming roses of firdaus, paradise, sat Shah Jehan, ‘Emperor of the World’ talking into his new iPhone in a state of high excitement.

Amidst the blooming roses of firdaus, paradise, sat Shah Jehan, ‘Emperor of the World’ talking into his new iPhone in a state of high excitement. The Great Moghul, the greatest dealer in marble of all time, had always been tech savvy. It was through state-of-the-art pulleys that he had got all that stone transported from innards of the Markana mines to build the Taj Mahal, “the most perfect monument to love in the world”. News had just come in that his monument had a great chance of figuring in the new list of the Seven Wonders of the World thanks to 100 million SMS votes, cast largely by unemployed Indians. By his side sat his true love, his chand ka tukada, his piece-of-the-moon, Begum Arjumand Banu, known to the world as Mumtaz Mahal, the woman who bore him 14 children and died of the effort. Her cheeks reflected the hues and texture of the roses that surrounded her. The Emperor of the World adjusted the settings of his 16-inch Mead telescope again to get another look at his beloved monument down there on planet earth…

SHAH JEHAN: Damn, global warming and all that pollution! Just can’t get to see the Taj today of all days when our little playhouse is the talking point of the world.

MUMTAZ(pouting prettily): O my anwar, my light. You are so besotted by that horrible monument that you just have no time for Mumtaz anymore.

SHAH JEHAN: But, my bulbul, the Taj is You and You are the Taj. Why don’t you get it? Long years have we looked with yearning on her, imagining you before us.

MUMTAZ: Ooof! It’s my lord who does not get it. That building is made of stone. Your Mumtaz is a woman of flesh and blood. Take my palm in your hand, my pyara, darling, and tell me if it reminds my lord of cold-hearted stone.

Mumtaz smiled as she said this, a smile so dazzling that the pearls around her throat grew envious. It sent her lord’s heart vaulting over the birds chirping on the higher branches of a large pomegranate tree. But it was not on her that his mind was focused

SHAH JEHAN: Haan, haan, my noor, my hira, my light, my diamond. That’s all okay, but for a moment we are anxious about the possibility of the Great Wall overtaking us…

Story continues below this ad

MUMTAZ (not pleased at all over his lack of attention, wrinkled her perfect nose): I, your little begum, should have known it. You, my lord, and your entire clan have room in your hearts only for stones and more stones… .

SHAH JEHAN (their conversation, like that of most happy couples, going in two distinctly different directions): And we have just received a call indicating that we should also watch out for Machu Picchu…

MUMTAZ: Oh my anwar, my macha picchu, forget all this vainglorious nonsense and read out for the delection of my ears those verses of Omar Khayyam which delight my soul…

SHAH JEHAN: And, yes, they say that even the Colosseum, that unimaginative structure that even our horses would disdain, could offer stiff competition. And to think…

Story continues below this ad

MUMTAZ: My lord never once asked me what Mumtaz would have wanted by way of remembrance, did you my lord? You decided to remember me by this wasteful monument that took 22 years of work, 1,40,000 cartloads of stone and so many lives…

SHAH JEHAN: …that we made sure that the Taj was crafted out of the finest material Rajputana could offer, the finest gems and talent from Persia…

MUMTAZ: If my lord had asked me what Mumtaz would have wanted as a memorial, she would have told you to spend time teaching some poetry to that pale waif of a son, Aurangzeb…

SHAH JEHAN: What I should have done was to have built a Great Wall around the Taj and placed it on the slopes of the Himalaya. That way, we could have fended off all this great wall-shall/pachu michu nonsense. Truly…

Story continues below this ad

MUMTAZ: …And then he may not have found it in himself to have treated you, his father, so cruelly – have you considered that, my lord…

SHAH JEHAN (suddenly delirious with joy): My bulbul, my bulbul. Look, we have received an SMS. Our Taj has made it, my bulbul.

MUMTAZ: Your Taj, my lord, I had precious little to do with it. If Mumtaz really had a choice in the matter – it would perhaps never have existed.