North India - Day 3

Agra - Day 3

17 February 2026

At 6 am this morning we left for Agra. For the first time in a long time from booking with Booking.com, I wasn’t happy with the hotel I chose in Delhi. It is ok enough, but the walls are too thin; and in the evenings there were some construction work going on that sounded as it if was coming from just beside my room; random conversations filter the night air with the force of a jet engine; and a horrid baby wailed the night away. All leading to me not having enough sleep. 

We first stopped for tea at a small road side stall, people here drink tea more than coffee. Coffee would have to wait, says Jeetu. I went to sleep in the car after that. At about 8 am we stopped at a place called Jolly Go for breakfast, where I had coffee at last, and uttappam of all things. Then back on the road again. We reached Agra at about 11 am, and then to the Taj Mahal!

It’s one of the things on my bucket list, and I’m so glad I finally made it!

 

The Taj Mahal is a UNESCO World Heritage site, situated on the right bank of the Yamuna River within a large Mughal garden complex covering approximately 17 hectares in the Agra district of Uttar Pradesh. It was commissioned by the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan in memory of his third and favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal.

 

Work on the monument began in 1632 and the main mausoleum was completed in 1648. The mosque, guest house, and principal southern gateway were finished later, along with the outer courtyard and surrounding cloisters, which were completed in 1653. Several historical records and Qur’anic inscriptions in Arabic script have helped historians determine the construction timeline. Artisans from across the Mughal Empire, as well as from Central Asia and Iran, were brought together for the project, including masons, stonecutters, inlay specialists, sculptors, painters, calligraphers, and dome constructors.

 

The Taj Mahal is regarded as the finest example of Indo-Islamic architecture. Its architectural beauty lies in the balanced arrangement of solid and open spaces, curved and rounded forms, and the striking effects of light and shadow created by its arches and domes. The contrast between the green gardens, red pathways, and blue sky gives the monument a constantly changing appearance. The carved marble reliefs and intricate inlay work using precious and semi-precious stones further enhance its distinction. Seriously, real gemstones for colouring! What a great idea for keeping the colours last throughout centuries!

 

One of the monument’s most notable features is the innovative planning introduced by Shah Jahan’s architects and garden designers. Unlike many similar structures, the tomb is positioned at one end of the four-part garden rather than at its centre, creating a dramatic sense of depth and perspective. It is also an outstanding example of a raised mausoleum. The tomb stands on a square platform, with four minarets placed at its corners. The octagonal bases of the minarets project slightly beyond the platform’s edges. A central staircase on the southern side leads up to the platform.

 

The four detached minarets at the platform’s corners introduced a new architectural element to Mughal design. They not only frame the mausoleum visually but also enhance its three-dimensional impact. The way the monument is built creates all kinds of illusions, truly. If you walk towards it, your mind tells you that it should appear to be bigger, but somehow it seems to be getting further away from you. Meanwhile, the four minarets look absolutely straight, but they are in fact slightly curved.

 

The layout of the Taj Mahal reflects careful symmetry and balance. At its heart is an octagonal burial chamber, surrounded by entrance halls and four corner rooms, with the same arrangement repeated on the upper level. This chamber contains the cenotaphs of Mumtaz Mahal and Shah Jahan. Surrounding them is a finely carved octagonal marble screen, highly polished and decorated with detailed inlay work. The borders are set with precious stones forming floral designs, crafted so skillfully that the flowers appear almost lifelike.

 

Mumtaz Mahal’s cenotaph is placed precisely at the centre of the chamber on a rectangular base adorned with floral inlay motifs. Shah Jahan’s larger cenotaph was added more than thirty years later and is positioned to the west of hers. The visible cenotaphs are symbolic; the actual graves are located in a lower chamber, following the tradition of Mughal imperial tombs.

 

Apart from the tomb, the most striking structure within the complex is the main gateway, located at the centre of the southern forecourt wall. Double-arched galleries line its northern façade. The garden in front is divided into four sections by two main pathways, and each section is further divided by smaller cross paths, following the traditional Timurid-Persian concept of a walled garden. The eastern and western boundary walls each contain a pavilion at their midpoint. 

Then to lunch. I had fish curry and roti, I requested for spicy, and again, they didn’t disappoint. North Indian cuisines tend to be very ‘lemak’, and you are full fast. But the curry, thick as it was, was really tasty. 

Then to the Red Fort, also known as the Agra Fort, also a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Built almost entirely of red sandstone, it was once surrounded by a moat fed by the Yamuna river, with crocodiles once upon a time placed in them to deter enemies. There are two sets of walls – outer and inner walls, which makes the entire fort look almost impenetrable – thick ramparts, sloping battlements, the sense that this structure was never meant to be admired so much as obeyed. It is easy to forget that this was once the heart of an empire, not merely its defence. An entire world lived, governed, plotted, and unravelled behind these walls.

 

Built by Akbar, the fort carries his personality unmistakably: powerful, disciplined, and unapologetically martial. The red sandstone dominates, heavy and uncompromising, its colour deepened by centuries of sun and dust. Yet once inside, the fort reveals its contradictions.

 

The severity softens into courtyards and palaces, and the architecture begins to change character. White stone appears where red once ruled. Arches grow more graceful. Light filters in deliberately, as if it were part of the design rather than an accident. Power, here, learned to dress itself in beauty.

 

And then comes the quiet cruelty of history.

 

From the Musamman Burj, the view opens across the river to the Taj Mahal. It is almost unbearable to imagine Shah Jahan standing here, day after day, gazing at the tomb he built for his wife while being held prisoner by his own son, Aurangzeb. The fort no longer feels like a palace at this point; it feels like a gilded cage.

 

What struck me most was how close everything is – the fort, the river, the Taj – and yet how completely separated they are by power, ambition, and fate. Love lies across the water, visible but unreachable. Authority looms behind, heavy and inescapable. The Yamuna flows between them, indifferent, as it always has been.

 

Walking through the Red Fort in Agra, I felt less like a visitor and more like a witness – to the rise of an empire, and to the quiet loneliness that often comes with absolute power. 

Then we went to a leather shop. Agra is famous for its leather. Large imperial armies and royal households required vast quantities of leather for shoes, saddles, belts, shields, and military equipment. Skilled artisans settled in and around the city to meet this demand. Over time, leather craftsmanship became an established local trade. Here I bought a wallet for my father, a wallet for Philip and one for me 😊 

Then to a marble shop, where I was first shown how marbles were carved in those days – all by hand, no machines, only tools like chisels of various kinds, and for the larger work, the artisan could knock a hammer onto the chisel; but for the more intricate work, the artisan had to literally carve the marble out bit by bit to achieve the design he wanted . It is no easy task. Here I bought some souvenirs, and then I was also strong-armed into buying a saree that was although nice, really something I did not need. I have GOT to learn how to say no more effectively!

 

And lastly, to Mehtab Bagh (which literally means “Moonlight Garden”). This is a garden that sits directly across the Yamuna River from the Taj Mahal, and it is believed that it was always meant to be part of the Taj’s grand visual composition.

The garden actually predates the Taj. It was first laid out by Emperor Babur in the early 16^th century as one of the many char bagh (four-part) gardens along the river. When Shah Jahan later built the Taj Mahal, he incorporated Mehtab Bagh into his overall design scheme. The placement was no accident because from this point, the Taj aligns perfectly along the central axis, creating a breathtaking, symmetrical view across the water.

 

There’s a long-standing legend that Shah Jahan intended to build a “Black Taj” for himself on this very site – a dark marble twin to Mumtaz Mahal’s white mausoleum – but there is no proof of any of this – more of a romantic myth than fact. What is more plausible is that the garden functioned as a royal viewing terrace, a serene place from which Shah Jahan could admire the Taj glowing in moonlight.

 

Over time, however, the garden fell into neglect. Flooding from the Yamuna altered the landscape, and the original plantings and water channels deteriorated. By the 18^th and 19^th centuries, much of it had faded into ruin. It wasn’t until archaeological excavations in the late 20^th century that the garden’s original Mughal layout was rediscovered and partially restored.

 

Today, Mehtab Bagh is quieter than the Taj complex itself, with lawns, young trees, straight water channels, and unobstructed river views. It doesn’t have the same architectural drama, but that’s precisely its charm. The real spectacle is the Taj across the water, especially at sunset or under a full moon, when the marble seems almost luminous. 

And just like that, Day 3 ended.