‘How amazing
that sculpture of Taj Mahal is, the original Taj Mahal must be breath taking',
she said amazingly while tossing herself in the grassy plot in front of small
museum inside Shahi fort. 'Do you know it was built by Mughal Emperor Shah
Jahan for his love Mumtaz Mahal and if it was to be built now, it would have
cost around $827 million USD'. 'I'm wondering how did he cling to life without
his true love', she said astonishingly. 'It is said that Shah Jahan’s hair
turned black to white overnight due to the anguish he went through on the death
of Mumtaz Mahal and interestingly, she was his fourth wife out of 7. She died
delivering her 14th child'. 'was it love or .....', she stopped intentionally.
'basically, there are two types of love. First type of love is more about
sacrifice. Being happy in the happiness of your love, never touching her, and
letting her go where she wants instead of questioning anything. The other type
is more about lust. Its about being together, sharing the bed and having kids'.
A period of silence on both sides prevailed for long.
'Do you love someone', he asked her. 'Yes',
she said. 'I am not a king who can win any lady', he thought. Something broke
deep inside him, a hope, a wish or may be formula of his life. 'let us move
forward, I am running out of time', he said in hopeless voice.
They
entered a new range of buildings. 'What is this portion for', she asked. 'Here
on left side is the bed room, and there in that corner is the area where queens
used to take bath. I can still see queens laying themselves out in a hope to be
picked to get into the bed room of the king. I can see them staggering
anxiously in this small garden glutted with optimism. I can see the king
sending for one of them and can see the gloomy faces of all the other queens',
he said in deep voice. She could feel the sudden sadness in his voice. 'This is
the underground tunnel that leads to Dehli', a voice came across the wall. 'I
want to go see that tunnel', she requested him. 'we can't go any further now,
let us go back', he stepped towards exit door. 'I want to visit Badshahi Mosque again', she requested. 'Ok'.
'It will be our last meeting, why not to spend 5 more minutes with her', he
thought. They were sitting on right platform of mosque. 'I love someone and I
believe in 2nd type of love', she placed her fingers over his hand. He could hear the sound of music playing ‘Ek din aap yun hum ko mil jaingy main ny socha na tha’ emerging from
heera mandi.
