IN the 17th century, 20,000 workers crafted a love story in marble. In the 21st century will 20,000 visitors every day craft the story of its destruction? Will the Taj crumble under the onslaught of 10 million merciless feet and curious, caressing hands every year? The spectre was raised recently by D.V. Sharma, superintendent of the Agra chapter of the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI). His dire warnings sent instant panic signals, with the media reporting an imminent closure of the World Heritage Site.
"Is that possible?" denies an indignant Sharma. "A complete closure is against national interest. But, was the Taj Mahal made to hold one lakh visitors a day as is the case on Fridays, the day of free entry?" he explodes. Sharma proceeds to explain that all he has mooted is a plan to protect the Taj from unregulated tourism and an unaesthetic management. For, years of apathy has resulted in the marble cracking, flagstones sinking, the intricate inlay work coming apart, fragments chipping off from the relief work and increased humidity from millions of breathing bodies causing decay and discolouration to set in.
It's difficult not to agree with Sharma, when, instead of admiring the exquisite craftsmanship of the monument, a different kind of guided tour throws up the damage that has set in.
To be fair, what strikes the eye first is that there's been visible improvement after the Supreme Court ruling of December 1997 that Agra's 262 polluting iron foundries either relocate or switch over to gas fuel. The same ruling applies to the 1,000-odd industries operating within the Taj Trapezium, a 10,400 sq km stretch covering Mathura, Hathras, Agra, Ferozabad, Etawah and parts of Aligarh and Bharatpur. Greening of the area has started and, till recently, battery-operated buses took the tourist to the monument from the parking area a kilometre away. The buses are out of operation at the moment because of the non-availability of batteries.
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.
The weight of the people leaning against them have disaligned the marble railings around the monument. Some visitors spread blankets for a picnic of sorts and if Junior needs a leak, they keep an eye out for the disinterested guard and disappear behind one of the turrets. While a few idle Romeos surreptitiously scratch their names on the walls hoping to go down in history like the immortal lovers Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal.
It's easy to miss a step while entering the supposedly sacrosanct area where the replicas of the original tombs—situated in the now off-limits vaults below—are kept, because the marble flagstones have sunk in deep.
LOOK at the pietra dura," says Sharma, pointing to a section where the semi-precious stone inlay work has begun to crack. This is mainly due to people touching the work and guides rubbing lit torches against the stones to demonstrate their luminosity. The sharp lines of the relief work on the walls are taking on a blunt look. The threat to the lattice work shielding the tomb replicas had earlier forced the ASI to erect a wooden railing all around it. "Some of the lattice work had broken. We had to replace them," says Sharma, "but I can't keep changing everything, it's living history."
Last but not the least, tourists young, old and middling compete in a show of vocal chords to test the acoustics of the inner chambers. Ustad Ahmad Lahori, the architect of the Taj Mahal, and his Turkish master builder had designed the perfectly proportioned double dome to resonate internally to softly intoned recitation of sacred texts. Not for the screaming, teeming millions to shout the place down.
"Don't you think sound pollution also might have an effect?" asks an exasperated Sharma. Agrees the well known authority on heritage management and conservation, M.N. Deshpande: "We must teach people to appreciate the beauty in silence. Also, human encroachment increases humidity. There is so much of exhaling of carbon dioxide—it does have a negative effect."
The consensus then is that there should be some regulations in place. "People travel from around the world to see the Taj and everyone's allowed in all at once," says Deshpande. His solution: send people in batches, monitor the duration of their stay, on heavy days allow them to view the monument only from a distance, supervision should be stringent where noise, touching and vandalism are concerned and divert the traffic to other areas like the mosque and museum. After all, says Deshpande, "how can you stop people from visiting this monument?"
A sentiment shared by Ajay Shankar, director general, ASI. "We have been seriously thinking about the problem though I have not received Sharma's proposal as yet," he says. He af firms that there is a real need to stagger visitors and restrict entry. Moves are on to raise the entry fee as well. Agra and the Trapezium are home to over 150 historical monuments. Shankar feels that it's the tourism department's responsibility to create public awareness, highlight the other historic areas, develop Agra and keep tourists busy with other activities allowing them to imbibe the tradition and culture of Agra with craft, food and performing arts. "No one wants to stay in Agra because it's filthy. They rush in, visit the Taj three or four times and then leave," says Shankar.
"It's sheer exploitation of the Taj. The Tourism Department and the Agra Development Authority (ADA) are using it as a money-spinner," fumes Sharma. Mukul Singhal, vice-chairman, ADA, unwittingly lends credence to Sharma's statement when he says: "The Supreme Court has said that the Taj by itself is an industry and should be a source of revenue for the country," adding that the ADA'S effort is to increase tourism. Singhal lays the responsibility for protecting the monument squarely on the ASI's shoulders but agrees reluctantly that the effort needs to be supplemented by non-traditional methods. To start with, Rs 600 crore has been allocated by the state and the Centre to be spent on the beautification of Agra.
The need of the hour, then, is for the three pillars—ASI, the tourism department (which was unavailable for comment) and the ADA—on whom the future of the Taj rests, to put their heads together and come up with a master plan, with public awareness topping the agenda. Supervision has to be stepped up so that tourists realise that they can still appreciate the splendour of this national heritage without touching, vandalising and breaking rules. Or else India may soon be left with just another hideously painted signboard proclaiming: 'This Was Where the Taj Mahal Once Stood'.
