The area surrounding the monument is clean and free of any traffic congestion. But on arrival at the main entrance, aesthetics takes a backseat as security personnel lounge around in their underclothes in the sandstone pavilions at the four corners of the Taj. Just inside the entrance a garish board announcing the presence of a post office strikes the next discordant note. Ugly power cables run along the Mughal stonework. Sadly, Lord Curzon's efforts to keep to the symmetry and aesthetic plan of the place by installing antique lighting arrangements have come to nought. Instead, gleaming steel pipes and huge floodlights mar the serenity of the bagh area. The ASI, though, has been trying its best to restore the quiet splendour by removing eyesores like shops and ridding the place of bats and the musty odour that permeates such hoary relics of the past. "I'm not against tourism, but my proposal is to stop the misuse and disturbance of the structural stability of the monument," explains Sharma. The once pristine white steps leading up to the mausoleum have eroded, the porous stone soaking in the dirt from the feet of millions of tourists. It's cracked in places and taken on a concave shape. Some of the flagstones leading to the vaults have sunk half an inch, the black inlay borders chipping away gently. The flooring's become slippery and dimpled, like bubbles on water, with the incessant polish of feet for over 400 years, 365 days a year.