Through years of my prime I walked with a heart crazy about love.
I wanted my heart to bloom and shelter a shadow of love. when the heart was soaked in passion and was wet, I wanted to wrench it dry on love itself. I wanted to paint a picture, in indelible print, across the canvass of my heart.
I stand today in front of the Taj Mahal. I watch the marble smiling as the sunlight gives it a touch. I feel gusts of wind gone mad as they come across the heights of love here. I listen to the music, waking in the dream-eyed visitors' quiet hearts.
I am tipsy after my own feelings themselves have become wine. I forget myself, world and all.
I don't know whether I'm thinking of Shah Jahan, Mumtaj or myself. I'm quite disillusioned, stupefied, enveloped under an expanding heart.
Shah Jahan who proved an emperor to be shorter than a lover, who turned a grave into a temple who gave his beloved a place of God and converted love into a prayer.
there exists one difference between us two. he was all in all, and if I'd ever grown prosperous like he was, I'd not have waited for my beloved's death before I erected a Taj Mahal.