AGRA, India — It appeared from the haze beyond an arched doorway at the entrance — the iconic spire and its four minarets, rising like a dream from the mist beyond the early-morning throng of tourists gathered there to witness the ethereal beauty of the Taj Mahal.
I lagged behind the crowd that had comprised the queue to enter the grounds of the 17th century Mughal monument, and soon I found myself alone in the entrance hall, where my footsteps on the stone floor echoed softly. I stood still.
From here, I drank in the sight of the while marble structure and took a moment to understand that my journey to this moment in time, in this corner of the world, was also a trip into the past, to what Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore called a “tear-drop on the cheek of time.”
During a few minutes frozen in time, a glimpse of eternity.