Taj Mahal by the light of the moon

Location:
India

Taj night viewing

By Penny E. Schwartz

We suffered through visual inspections, metal detectors and body pat-downs. Members of our tour group were frisked, our bags searched and some of our possessions confiscated. Security, in fact, was tighter than anywhere else we had visited in India.

We were not trying to board an airplane or visit a military installation. We were making a rare and coveted evening visit to the Taj Mahal in the spring of 2005.

Like eternal love, night viewing of the Indian monument to eternal love does not come easy. There are only five evenings a month when visitors are allowed on the grounds. These include the night of the full moon and two evenings on either side of this date. The tariff at the time we went was hefty, about $25 per person, and only 400 people were allowed onto the grounds each evening, 40 at a time for 30 minutes each.

The night viewings were a recently reinstated phenomenon. Years ago, they were a tourist staple, but Sikh terrorist attacks around India led authorities to close the monument for night viewing some 20 years earlier. Only in November, 2004, had it been re-opened for the limited evening hours.

Mogul emperor Shah Jahan commissioned the Taj Mahal as a memorial to his second wife, Mumtaz, who died as a result of complications after the birth of their 14th child. More than 20,000 laborers toiled for over 20 years to complete the monument in 1654, and tales abound about disfigurement of the workers afterward so that they could never reproduce the building.

On a tour through Rajasthan. my husband and I had looked forward to visiting this building, reputed to be one of the world's most beautiful. We are both amateur photographers who love traveling to the world's most colorful locales in an effort to augment our portfolio by shooting the most fool-proof subjects.

Our travel agent and tour leader had applied months before our tour dates to obtain the coveted night viewing tickets, so our excitement level was high. Before the night viewing, however, came an afternoon visit, which was a trial run for the evening ahead.

At the security entrance, our leader's copy of our local newspaper was confiscated for reasons that were entirely unclear. We did not understand how a small-town American newspaper could cause a security risk, and our leader surrendered it sadly and reluctantly. She had promised the editor a photo of us all in front of the monument for publication.

No sooner had we cleared security than a rain cloud darkened the sky, drenching most of us who had come out that morning without raincoats or umbrellas. We huddled under a nearby archway, shivering and clutching our cameras to protect them from the splashing water.

Much to our great relief, the rain stopped and a wan sun peeked through the clouds. Continuing along the entryway, we finally caught our first glimpse of the famous monument. The moody sky served only to accentuate the building's classic beauty, its towers glistening after the recent cascade of rainwater. I had half expected to be disappointed, but the monument certainly lived up to its hype.

At a height of 141 feet, the Taj is majestic from any angle. Visitors may wander inside at their leisure to view the large central chamber, with the tomb of Mumtaz set in the center. Shah Jahan, who had fervently wished to be entombed beside his beloved, was relegated to one side of the chamber by his son. This was the same son who had stolen his father's empire and imprisoned him in a nearby fort from which he could see but never visit the Taj he had so lovingly constructed.

Inlaid marble designs define the building's exterior, with its perfect structure reflected in pools of water near its entrance. The cloudy sky offered a better backdrop for photographs than the sun would have done, and we happily snapped away. On the outside level below the entrance, we watched and photographed a parade of brightly-turbaned Sikhs making their way across the black and white checkered courtyard.

Before we left the immediate area of the Taj, I felt compelled to run up and touch it. The stone felt cool to my fingers, and I spent a moment savoring the experience, thinking that I likely would never be in that space again.

Gathering together after our stroll through the grounds, our group posed for photos. One of our number triumphantly produced a wrinkled copy of our daily newspaper that had been secreted in her purse and not discovered by prying security guards. We happily posed for our illicit photograph.

Later that evening, we returned for our much-anticipated night viewing. This time the security was even tighter. We were subjected to pat-down screening and metal detector searches. My husband's tripod, carried from home for just this occasion, was taken away for later retrieval.

Dave, our group's semi-official photographer was allowed to retain his humongous camera bag, but another woman's large tote bag was confiscated. Pointing at Dave's bag, she started to protest, but Dave did a swift dissolve into the crowd to avoid any problems.

Finally, with all of us through security, we approached the viewing platform for the Taj Mahal. Our arrival was accompanied by cries of "Where is it?" The afternoon's storm clouds had obscured the moon and sheathed the famous monument in darkness.

Peals of laughter followed our shocked cries, as we realized that no spotlights or sound and light productions were going to illuminate the object of our desire that evening.

Gradually, as our eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, we could make out the spires and domes of the Taj. Cameras clicked away, their feeble flashes sending useless beams of light several feet in front of us. My husband steadied his new digital 35mm camera on a metal railing and tried to capture the Taj, but when we looked at the screen, we saw only a bare outline against the blackness.

Wanting to test my own mettle against the darkness, I took the camera and placed it myself against the railing. As I pushed the shutter button, a collective "Ooh" issued from my group as a flash of lightening lit up the sky. Disappointed that I had missed the light show because I was looking through the camera lens, I glanced at my digital screen.

Then I saw it, the Taj Mahal in all its glory, lit by the world's largest external flash. I had bagged the best shot of the trip---with a great story to boot.

Further Information

Must see/do at this place: Taj Mahal by moonlight around the time of the full moon.

You should avoid here: Bringing a tripod.