‘Hats off to the emperor! He gave the world probably the finest monument of love; see how he lies close by his beloved queen even in death,’ the awe in the officer softens into tenderness.
‘It is truly amazing that a king could love only one woman so passionately! His love for Mumtaz is truly matchless.’ Zeba’s face grows grave. ‘How can a man love only one woman so intensely?’
Her emphasis on the phrase ‘only one woman’ instantly alerts the half-hearted attention of Shiva; he feels drawn in a bit.
‘I feel this sublime white symbolises the absolute purity of his love for his queen, spotless like this white marble,’ the officer is running out of words of praise.
‘Yes sir, truly untainted,’ Zeba goes on.
Shiva leads them to the eastern side of the Taj. They walk through the garden and beyond to finally reach a tomb. Shiva stops there, and so do they.
‘It is believed that Shah Jahan’s first wife, Kandhari, was buried here,’ Shiva invites the attention of the two.
‘Was she also a queen of Shah Jahan?’ the official asks.
‘Not as far as I know; she is supposed to be his first wife, but she could never be the queen.’ There is irony in Shiva’s tone.
‘Oh! I didn’t see it when I visited here last,’ Zeba says. ‘Who will bother to visit this decrepit structure after seeing the sublime Taj?’ The sarcasm in Shiva’s words grows amplified.
‘Sir, Kandhari in this decrepit tomb and Mumtaz in the sublime Taj; don’t you feel this suggests Kandhari’s relegation to a lonely place in life as well as death?’ Shiva’s meaning becomes more and more obvious.
‘You just said that the love of the King for Mumtaz was untainted, but don’t you feel that his love was tainted with the humiliation of Kandhari? More for Mumtaz meant less for Kandhari,’ Shiva says in a flurry, eager to get the words out. His companions are already walking away. Finding Zeba looking back at him, Shiva says, ‘The pristine whiteness of the Taj also wears the gloss of Kandhari’s tears.’
