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    Tandoori Texan Tales

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      RAJ DORÉ

      We decided to take a weekend trip outside Delhi. To

      breathe some fresh air and also have fun. We found

      Bharatpur Game Sanctuary was within driving distance and

      on our way back we could visit Fatehpur-Sikri and Agra. It

      took as about 2 hours just to get past outer fringes of the

      City on a Saturday early morning. Later we drove through

      some small hamlets and I could see little children with their

      backpacks zealously going to schools, even though it was a

      Saturday. There were signs of pharmacies and doctors’

      clinics. All that seemed very comforting to me. Out on the

      countryside they had had good rains and there was greenery

      as far as eyes could see. Roads had strings of large trucks

      carrying I do not know what, some things some people

      needed somewhere very badly, I am sure. Puri had to stop

      the car and was told we could not go further because the

      road was submerged in flooding rainwater. But then came

      another and told us that he had a tractor, which could carry

      us and our car across, for ‘a small fee’ of course. I was glad

      free enterprise system was catching on. We finally made it

      through.

      Bharatpur is in the state of Rajasthan and just like Udaipur,

      used to be a small Kingdom before being merged into the

      mainstream democratic India. Its jungles, lakes and marshes

      made a perfect habitat for migratory birds. Birds come from

      Siberia looking for warmer climate in winter to hibernate or

      breed. You could find countless species of birds and

      animals here. It used to be a happy hunting ground for

      hunters including Imperial dignitaries from time

      immemorial. They have erected a stone plaque with names

      of yet more Army Officers with walrus moustache, solar

      hats and khakis alongside counts of birds they bagged.

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      TANDOORI TEXAN TALES

      Talking about these plunderers, there was one such fellow

      that was the Governor of Madras in day’s bygone. When he

      finally returned to England, he purloined one large cache of

      gold, diamonds, pearls, rubies and such other trinkets that

      would put the Borgias to shame. Poor fellow before he

      kicked the big bucket, he got pangs of bad conscience,

      found religion and decided to donate a part of the booty to

      start a school for destitute children across the Atlantic.

      Anybody heard of Yale University?

      However the government declared this area as a sanctuary

      for birds and wild life, a few years ago. You may shoot

      these creatures only with a camera.

      We checked into a Tourist Bungalow outside the gates of

      the Sanctuary. For a very reasonable price we could get a

      good 2-bedroom suite with A/C and a color TV. We were

      not allowed to drive inside the Sanctuary. They had cycle-

      rickshaws. It is a tri-cycle with a seat that can take 2 people.

      A man pulls from his seat in the front by pedaling. The

      cycle rickshaw drivers here also doubled as guides. They

      were trained to explain everything that was going on there

      in 4 languages: English, German, French and Italian. I told

      him I would much prefer if spoke to me in simple Hindi.

      We spent the whole of the afternoon going round in this

      unspoiled piece of picturesque paradise, so different from

      the hustle and bustle of the previous days. My cycle

      rickshaw driver would every now and then burst out with a

      chuckle at some of my wisecracks, showing glimmering

      white teeth between dark unkempt beard. I wondered if he

      ever had ulcers worrying about interest rates or Dow Jones

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      RAJ DORÉ

      or mortgage payments. Why would he, he was sure he was

      going to get a good square meal this evening. Tomorrow is

      another day.

      Next morning we headed toward Fatehpur-Sikri. Here I

      need to pause and take you back a few centuries.

      American Republic is a little over 2 Centuries old. India has

      seen rise and fall of at least 4 or 5 such civilizations in

      recorded history. Most recently was the Mughal period that

      lasted from mid 16th century for about 200 years. Babar the

      founder of this dynasty was a progeny of the great Chengez

      Khan of Mongolia and a follower of Islam.

      He was driven away from his homeland. He came toward

      India looking for a good place to build an empire. Since he

      saw no Realtors that were willing to make him a deal, he

      put together an army and said this is a mugging, out with

      your stuff.

      Till then the Kings on the Indian side thought they had the

      latest state-of-the-art war machinery like spears, bows,

      arrows, shields, elephants and horses. They had cut back on

      Defense spending.

      Babar had something called gunpowder that could blast

      cannons out on long trajectories. The Indian side had a good

      100,000 strong brave soldiers, 5 times that on the other side,

      but were in a total disarray when these cannons started

      landing on their tents.

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      TANDOORI TEXAN TALES

      The Home team had to surrender to the Visitors before the

      end of second quarter; Super Bowl was over before the half

      time.

      There had been several invasions in the past through the

      Hindu Kush ranges on the border with Afghanistan. But

      most of them would just loot, maraud, kill, rape and go back

      with the booty. This fellow Babar was pretty serious about

      his empire building idea. He settled down and said this is

      my home now on. Immigration & Naturalization Service

      could not declare him as an undocumented illegal

      immigrant and deport him. After all he had better guns. Rest

      is history.

      Babar’s grandson was Akbar the Great. Akbar inherited the

      throne when he was 8. At 16 he found his Regent very

      incompetent, corrupt and unpopular. The Regent was given

      the good old pink slip. Akbar took over the reins himself.

      His reign lasted nearly 70 years and the empire extended

      from the borders of Persia to Burma and almost till the tip

      of the Indian peninsula to the south.

      How he was able to keep together a territory of this size

      speaks about his management genius. The only other

      contemporary empires in the world of comparable

      magnitude were Czarist Russia and China. They had not yet

      coined the term Super Power. Western Europe was still in

      bits and pieces. Shakespeare had been born. Apple had not

      yet fallen on the nose of Isaac Newton.

      Akbar was getting old but his wives could not give him an

      heir to the throne, which worried him very much. There was

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      RAJ DORÉ

      a holy man in Fatehpur-Sikri about 100 miles from Delhi

      who had a reputation of having mythical powers. So the

      mighty Emperor came to this holy man seeking divine

      intervention to his dilemma.

      Sure enough Queen Jodhabai conceived a child and gave

      birth to Prince Salim. Akbar
    was so impressed that he

      decided to move the capital of his empire from Delhi to

      Fatehpur-Sikri. I am always very wary of these supernatural

      phenomena.

      Whenever I was grounded in my room to do history

      homework, I would gaze at the picture of this Salim. As I

      doodled on his face, I always thought he had a strong facial

      resemblance to the Imperial Chief Harem Keeper,

      especially the nose and lower chin. In matters of State and

      National Security one does not argue with the mystical

      powers of holy men. I would draw a moustache and a small

      goatee beard on Salim’s face so nobody else sees the

      similarity. In those days nobody knew of Invitro- or

      Artificial Fertilization. Who knows what went on behind

      those veils of Royal Chambers?

      Fatehpur-Sikri has all the monuments built during that time

      still intact. When asked how come these buildings are so

      well built, one gets a wise crack that in those days they did

      not have contractors with lowest bids, they had an Emperor

      with a mighty whip.

      On one building they show symbols of Hinduism,

      Christianity, Islam and also the Star of David. Akbar tried

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      TANDOORI TEXAN TALES

      to keep harmony between his peoples of different faiths. He

      even founded a new religion combining all of them.

      They also show Roman and Greek influences on the

      columns of some buildings.

      Prince Salim called himself Emperor Jehangir when he

      inherited the empire. It was easy enough for holy men to

      live in Fatehpur-Sikri, but it was soon found that for

      housing a capital city of a large empire one needed large

      quantities of water supply. Fatehpur-Sikri had very little.

      Jehangir moved his capital back to brand new quarters in

      Delhi. He still had fond links to the erstwhile hometown

      where his very birth was ‘conceived’ biologically and

      metaphorically.

      Taj Mahal is in Agra about 15 miles from Fatehpur-Sikri.

      Jahangir’s son was Shahjehan who was madly in love with

      his Empress. She died before she was 30 years old while

      giving birth to a child. Shahjehan promised her that no one

      could ever take her place in his life and asked her if she had

      any wish that he could fulfill. She said that she wanted a

      monument of their love be built that would symbolize it for

      eternity. Thus came about Taj Mahal, the mausoleum where

      this Empress was laid to rest.

      For a long time I procrastinated a visit to Taj Mahal, while I

      lived in New Delhi. I thought it is just another of those

      ‘images’ that Travel Magazines promote and dumb tourists

      flock to get themselves photographed with. I visited it for

      the first time when some outside guests had to be

      accompanied.

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      RAJ DORÉ

      When I saw it in reality, I was totally consumed by its sheer

      beauty. It is out of this world. Its perfection is breathtaking.

      Made completely of white marble and located on the banks

      of Yamuna River this piece of art makes one just stand

      there aghast if not turn to tears at its magnificence. It has

      inspired writers, painters, artists, poets, musicians, novelists

      and lately moviemakers. Lovers from all corners of the

      world, whether in their teens or in their golden age, come

      here and take a vow. A kiss here under the Full Moon is

      considered divine. Folklore abounds on its theme.

      It seems there used to be a receptacle in the dome where

      rainwater would accumulate and all the time a drop would

      intermittently fall on the grave of the Empress, symbolic of

      her lover’s tears.

      Now that is very poetic and romantic, right? If that should

      happen in my living room, it would be called a leak,

      symbolic of my tears at high Property Tax.

      Shahjahan had wanted to build a Black Taj Mahal across

      the river for himself to be buried. It would stand out in

      Eternity saying ‘She was pure as driven snow and I am still

      grieving for her’.

      Destiny had it differently. Youngest of Shahjahan’s four

      sons, called Aurangzeb speared a Coup d’Etat. He killed his

      3 older brothers. Took pity on his dad and took him a life

      prisoner, instead of beheading. Announced himself as the

      Emperor. Shahjehan asked only one extra favor of his son,

      that he be imprisoned in a cell wherefrom he could watch

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      TANDOORI TEXAN TALES

      his Taj Mahal until the dying day. The wish was granted.

      After death he was also buried in the Taj Mahal beside his

      beloved wife.

      Little is known about the architect and artist that designed

      and built Taj Mahal. In those days there were no Copy

      Right or Patent laws. One way in which an Imperial

      Potentate could ensure that no one else replicates his

      creation of splendor would have been to send its creator to

      learn play ice hockey in ‘Gulag’. What was this

      ‘Michelangelo’ or ‘Vinci’ that created this marvel like?

      There seems so little on record.

      Depending on whom you ask, Aurangzeb was driven by

      either religious conviction or blind bigotry. He believed that

      the country had strayed from the path prescribed in the

      Scriptures. The ‘Tax and Spend Liberals’ had run the

      country too long, wasting federal funds on wanton pursuits.

      He disapproved of freedoms to Infidels in their wayward

      ‘Life Styles’. That had bad influence on the good followers

      of the Path. He wanted to put an end to all that. Music of

      any kind was bad morals and Arts were degenerate.

      Paintings show that he had long white beard. He prayed 8

      times a day, led a frugal personal life and forced strict moral

      behavior by his standards on the people.

      Aurangzeb might have been very strict and stern with his

      subjects. But at the domestic front, he had a problem. His

      dad had set bad precedent. His own Empress wanted a Taj

      Mahal for herself.

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      RAJ DORÉ

      She felt belittled. Her friends at the bridge table and

      cocktail circuit must have teased her.

      “What kind of a husband are you any way? Can you not

      make me a simple Taj Mahal? Am I any worse than my

      mother-in-law?” she must have yelled at him at the

      breakfast table, in her curlers.

      Aurangzeb relented and let her have one. This one is some

      1200 miles south-west of Delhi near Bombay. I have seen

      both, the original and the second version. Comparing the

      two is like comparing Champagne with Root Beer. I guess

      Aurangzeb and his wife got what they deserved.

      With advent of Aurangzeb started ‘The Decline and Fall of

      Mughal Empire’. The Empire started breaking down. There

      were revolts everywhere. The Europeans who had come as

      traders became mercenary soldiers taking sides and inciting

      quarrels amongst the several factions. One whole

      civilization came down to the pits.
    />
      We headed back home Sunday evening. On the way we

      were talking about how some new industries that were

      creating jobs in the surrounding area were also causing

      pollution to tarnish the white marble of the Taj. I suggested

      that probably some Walt Disney should take over the whole

      town and turn it into a new theme park. That would create a

      lot of jobs too.

      I spent the next few days lazing around at home watching

      TV. Now cable TV in color was available with more than a

      dozen channels. Even in regular channels the program were

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      TANDOORI TEXAN TALES

      very watchable. You had ‘Good Morning India’, on the

      lines of ‘Good Morning America’, there was a Hindi

      version of ‘Wheel of Fortune’, one could also see CNN,

      Talk Shows, Game Shows and Hindi MTV/VH1. There

      were live broadcasts of Republican National Convention

      from San Diego, BBC News and Movie Channels. ESPN

      showed sports of Indian and International interests. You had

      them all.

      Wanderlust took over again and this time I went on my own

      with my driver to a more serene place called Kumaon Hills.

      This is an area in the foothills of the Himalayas, nestled in

      woods, with lakes, water falls, log cabins, hunting lodges,

      all covered in fog and floating clouds, with sun shining

      through now and then. I spent time contemplating sunset,

      sunrise, fresh drop of dew on the petals of blooming

      chrysanthemums and such other creations of art, that I

      usually have no time to do in workaday life. I tried to

      preserve the idyllic beauty of these. I zoomed my lens and

      kept cranking my camera like I wanted to carry every nook

      and cranny of this place back with me.

      There is a National Park here called Jim Corbett Park. Who

      was this Jim Corbett? Yet another in ‘walrus moustache,

      solar hat and khakis that bilked native nabobs in dice game

     
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