I have a confession to make. A lot of you probably aren’t
going to like it. In fact, it is something I’ve been holding on to for quite
some time. Too long, I’ve had to smile and nod in silence while people talk
about how great it is. The fear of speaking up and being called uncultured got
the better of me. But here it is.
Tourists flock to the giant mausoleum in their droves,
ignoring some of the historically richer sights in India. Instead, they’re
enticed by a backstory that read like a Bollywood script. An emperor who built
this giant marble shrine to his third wife. How are places like the Ajanta
caves supposed to compete with that?
I have to admit when I went to India it drew me in. I mean,
who isn’t a sucker for a love story. But by the end of the day, I was cursing
the Taj Mahal and even worse Agra.
The Rumours
In India, you have to accept certain things if you’re
backpacking. You have to be aware that people are going to see you as wealthy
and western. They will harass you for money. Yeah, you can wear the pyjama
style trousers or a gupta, but that will only limit it. So, when I spoke to
other tourists, who said things like “Agra more like aggravation” I took it
with a pinch of salt. I mean, can it be any worse than walking down the Paharaj
Ganj in Delhi?
The Agra, wait for it…Vation
It was. From the moment you leave the train, you are
immediately accosted by tuk tuk drivers. I was used to the hard sell from
Delhi, but this was something else. It wasn’t just them bellowing about
recommendations they have or trying to undercut each other. It was grabbing my
shirt and shoving book under my nose. Wanting to make the harassment stop, I
picked one at random. They all seemed as bad as each other, so it wouldn’t make
a difference. We just wanted it to stop.
The driver we picked seemed less than enthusiastic. Usually
they try to charm you with broken English patter. “How old are you?” “Ah, 22
you go to Kathmandu”. None of that from our driver. He’d drop us some distance
away from where we wanted and then just usher us out on to the street. If we’d
have paid him, I’m sure he’d have done a runner. Throughout the day he seemed
set on trying to get us to buy him a bottle of Jack Daniels. He didn’t care
about us or our experience. We were a cash cow and it was milking season.
Unfortunately, as soon as you set foot in Agra, you are no longer a human but
instead you’re a walking dollar sign. Ripping tourists off is the cities number
1 industry.
The driver dropped us off. He waved a book in front of us.
It seemed he wanted a testimonial. We declined. Then after paying him, he
decided to reach over and give what can only be described as a nipple cripple.
The rage built up. My friend gave a look that said, “You don’t want to go to an
Indian prison”. As much I didn’t, the desire to punch the moustache off his
face was almost irrepressible. Thanks to self-control and pockets, I didn’t.
Instead, I was left with facing twenty minutes of laughter from my friend.
Sexually assaulted by a tuk tuk driver. The shame.
Then came the walk to the Taj Mahal. Children pickpockets
harassing you every step of the way. Each step becomes staggered from the
constant jostling. The now shuffle through the throng of children towards the
Taj Mahal, takes twice as long. Each movement is stilled filled with the hope
that it will transport you away from the last 3 hours of grief.
It didn’t
As you step through, you see a building nowhere near as big
as you expected. My feet stayed unswept and my breaths remained regular. Something
must have been wrong. It went against everything backpackers had told me. It
was a building, a very nice building, in some beautiful gardens. But was it a
life altering sight? No, not really. I spent 40 minutes to an hour inspecting
the marbled building. The obligatory pictures were taken and smiles were
forced. When you get home, no one want to hear about how disappointed you were
with it. Instead, they want the adjective filled descriptions.
Ultimately, I obliged. But Agra and the Taj Mahal will always
be my least favourite part of India. Maybe, it was everything that went before
it. But I didn’t have the same feelings as everyone else. The Taj Mahal is
beautiful, I can’t deny that. But for me it is overrated.
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