The Taj, and the power of love

I have written about the Taj Mahal before, and true to its nature, I can't help losing myself in the splendor of it's majesty. Like love and the desert flower that blooms only once every 3600 years, it carries with it the gamut of human experience as seen from its best point of view. Like a pearl in the desert it embraces an inner beauty.

To me the Taj stands as an edifice. A symbol to beauty and love at it's most divine, of living and life and what it means to be me, of value and worth and the choices we make.A physical manifestation of the love that it bares.And who can resist a story about young love?

A story of a boy destined to be the King of the World, of beauty and love at first site, of the kingdom it changed, and love that enthrall in it's grace. There are those that will tell how the King and his Queen would spend all of their days in merriment, how their happiness infested the world that they shared, and how the wonder of love gave birth to the Taj on her bed of death.

He built the Taj in her name, and constructed a temple that stand as a testament to their love and the life that they shared, and it is written that he paid for the building with blood that they gave with love, blood that you can still see in the carpets that flow on the floor of its cold marble halls. 

He laid out the building and grounds as a representation of the universe he found with his lover, and designed it to be a physical experience of the feeling they shared. He adorned it with the oplance and beauty they shared in their life, and scaled it to reflect the vast emptiness he had in his heart at her loss.

All in the name, and the nature of love.