Left and centre on the day I visited, Right as it is in summer
Up close, this remarkable monument tells multiple stories. At its heart lies a tale of love: Shah Jahan’s tribute to his beloved wife, who died at 37 after bearing him 14 children (only seven survived). Legend has it that on her deathbed, she extracted two promises: build her this magnificent tomb, and never remarry.
The white marble mausoleum stands as a masterpiece of symmetry – a hallmark of Islamic architecture. Four minarets frame the main structure, while a mosque, and its identical empty replica, flank it on either side. This perfect bilateral symmetry wasn’t merely aesthetic; for the Mughal rulers, it represented divine perfection and cosmic order. It also demonstrated imperial might – only absolute power could command such precision on this scale.
Walking around the mausoleum reveals an astonishing feat: each side mirrors the others with flawless precision. But the true engineering marvel lies beneath. The architects conquered the challenging sandy riverbank location through ingenuity. They created a deep foundation grid using wells filled with rubble and mortar, connected by interlocking arches (to spread the load).
Teak spikes driven into the riverbank soil petrified underwater, further strengthening the base. The surrounding soil was compressed using heavy stones and specialised techniques. This engineering mastery explains why, nearly 400 years later, the structure shows no signs of subsidence.
The construction details are equally impressive. The marble blocks were joined using an innovative mortar of limestone and molten lead, creating nearly invisible seams that resist both water and thermal expansion. They say you can’t slip a knife blade between the blocks even today.
Across the Yamuna river stands the red fort, where the monument’s story takes a darker turn. Shah Jahan spent his final nine years there, imprisoned by his son Aurangzeb after a power struggle. A marble balcony was built, allowing the aging emperor to gaze upon his masterpiece until his death, after which he was laid to rest beside his wife, both on the side and facing Mecca.
Standing at that same balcony today, I couldn’t even make out the riverbed through the smog, let alone the Taj – a sobering reminder of how “progress” sometimes dims our greatest achievements.
As the emperor contemplated it under a silvery full moon and, above, the smog through the distant terrace today …