“Sleep is just one of those few things you lose when you are the emperor of India.” Shahjahan sighed, as he lay wide-awake in the bed late one night. It was nothing new. He was used to it and took it sportingly often joking amongst his courtiers that sleep was a luxury he could neither buy nor conquer. The courtiers obviously laughed. They had to. But this night it was different.

Finally he abandoned the efforts to close his eyes and walked to the window. It was a full moon night. The sky was clear and stars twinkled as far as eyes could see. The sight had him mesmerised and no sooner he had begun to forget his mental preoccupation, the answer struck him. ‘The Taj Mahal was like a night sky without the twinkling stars. His Taj Mahal lacked soul.’

Now that he had known it, he felt worse.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to do. The question that baffled him was how to do it. Even the master builder, Isa Khan, whose design he had selected from amongst many other equally good ones from all over the world, didn’t have the answer. He had suggested inlay, to which he had agreed in principle, but they could not arrive at a decision regarding the form. The crudeness of the existing works of inlay repelled him. He wanted something delicate. Perhaps a little sensuous, an interplay of colours that would perfectly complement his pearl like tomb.

He turned to look at the blueprint of the monument. It was spread on the floor beside his bed. A faint ray of light from the other room sneaked through the curtains and fell on the diagram faintly illuminating the onion shaped constricted neck of the bulbous dome of the mausoleum. Every small aspect of the monument had been worked out to the last detail. He had already seen the sketch of India’s first all marble building, Hoshang Shah’s tomb in Mandu in Central India and had approved of the material. His only precondition was that it should be of the finest quality, quarried from Makrana in Rajasthan.

The expansive garden encircling the Taj from three sides was to be designed by Ali Mardan Khan, a noble in his court. So actively he was involved in the discussion that he knew by heart which species of trees would be planted where. The exact dimensions of the platform on which the Taj Mahal would be built too had his approval and he had already visited the tomb of his great grandfather, Humayun, in Delhi and saw in it the faint outline of his Taj Mahal.

As far as four minarets on the corners of the platform, which would bring unity to the whole structure was concerned, he had already seen them in the tomb of Akbar, his grandfather, at Sikandara, 8 km away and in Itmaduddaullah Tomb, on the other side of the river, constructed by his mother Nurjahan to inter the remains of her parents. But unlike them, his would be entirely different, as they would be free standing structures and yet form a part of the whole.

“The Taj Mahal would be one of its kind in the world.” Mere though had his chest swelling with pride and a faint smile spread across his lips. So detailed had been his thoughts that he had suggested that the minarets should be kept projecting a little outward so that in case of an earthquake they don’t fall on the dome and damage it. What’s more, he had even finalised the verse to be inscribed on the tomb:

The builder could not have been of this earth; for it is evident that the design was given to him by heaven.

As he mentally recited the verse his body trembled with deep emotion. It was something similar he had felt when the thought about the Taj had come to him for the first time. What followed then was a period of frenzied excitement. Today dejection loomed large.

Not knowing what to do he called for the retainer and asked him for a glass of sherbet. The ice pieces clinking with the silver tumbler distracted his mind. He marvelled at the nature’s creative ability. He wondered how many days it would have taken to bring it from the mountains to his palace in Agra. Being the emperor had its privileges. Ice was one of them.

The cool sherbet composed his mind. But before he could reflect on anything, a chain of thought had already started.

The first practitioners of the technique inlay, though in a crude manner, were the Hindu craftsmen. The idol of Shrinathji at Mathura (later shifted to Nathdwara during the reign of his son Aurangzeb) with its inlaid eyes is one of the earliest examples he could recall.

However, this technique became popular with the establishment of Muslim rule in Delhi in 1192. Alauddin Khilji was the first monarch to realise its potential as a decorative technique and used it in Alai Darwaza, the grand edifice he had constructed as the southern gateway to Qutub Minar. The result was breathtaking. Inlaid with marble, for the first time, the monotonous surface of red sandstone had an element of relief.

But this technique really bloomed in Humayun’s Tomb, constructed a few years after his death by his wife. In Akbar’s Tomb, the construction of which was altered by Jahangir, his father, in a big way, marble inlay has been prolifically used to decorate its main gateway.

Then there was the Itmaduddaullah’s Tomb. Out and out a marble structure it has made extensive use of coloured tiles and inlaid semi-precious stone to create a stunning effect. Personally, he liked the mausoleum. Its human proportions and stunted architecture combined with Rajput style rectangular dome along with a central location in a well-laid garden made it appear like a bejewelled casket.

But what he liked in Itmaduddaullah’s Tomb were also exactly the elements that he did not find exciting. It felt so small… so ordinary… that anyone could have aspired for it. Indeed many of his nobles and Rajput kings had within their realm buildings far more beautiful and grand than Itmaduddaullah’s Tomb.

On the other hand, his Taj Mahal was to be way beyond the ordinary. In fact, he aspired it to be beyond any human endeavour. Undoubtedly it would be grand in scale and magnificent. Yet, at the same time, it would exude a feeling of ethereality. The Taj Mahal would be robust yet delicate, sensuous and appealing. He would do to architecture what Jahangir had done to miniature paintings—taking it to the point of evolution where further improvement was impossible.

He remembered how as a child he would accompany his father on his inspection of miniature paintings in the imperial karkhana (royal atelier) and was astonished by his father’s penetrating gaze. Just then a miniature painting flashed into his mind. Then came another and then another. At first their speed was slow. But soon the pace grew. So quickly they came one after the other that his mind whirred. And then they stopped. Completely.

Unable to move little beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead. An intense feeling of peace followed next. At first he didn’t understand anything. A little later he smiled. He clapped and the retainer came in once again. A while after he returned. He had the order to arrange a meeting at the first ray of dawn with everyone associated with the Taj Mahal project. Shahjahan took another sip of the sherbet. The ice had melted. He finished the entire content in one draught, went to his bed and closed his eyes only to find that sleep still was miles away. But it didn’t matter. He had found the answer. Providence had shown him the way.

Ustad Isa Khan was first to arrive. Ali Mardan Khan followed next. A little later other nobles came in. As they waited for the emperor they could feel the surcharged vibe. No sooner had everyone gathered the retainer announced the emperor. As Shahjahan was ushered in, another retainer followed him with something in his hands. It was covered with a thick silk.

Shahjahan came straight to the point. With his left hand he unveiled the thing, it was one of the favourite miniature painting of his father, and spoke. “Mian Isa!” Every one had come to a rapt attention. Shahjahan continued. “You see this painting. Now you have to convert it exactly into stone.”

“Subhan Allah!” The gathering marvelled. “Marhabba!” They said in unison.

After the echo had died down and pin drop prevailed, Shahjahan spoke once again. “This is how I want to embellish my Taj Mahal.”

Post Script

In 1632, one year after the death of Mumtaj Mahal, the construction of Taj Mahal commenced. In the mausoleum the technique of inlay is has been extensively used to translate naturalistic forms into decorative patterns. Flowers such as tulip, lily, iris, poppy and narcissus are depicted as sprays or arabesque patterns. Stones of varying degrees of colours have been used to create shaded effects. As a result, quite often, a single flower has more than 35 variations of carnelian.
Semi-precious and precious stones used for this purpose came from far and wide. The list is an eye opener. Jade and Crystal were brought from China, Turquoise from Tibet, Lapis Lazuli from Afghanistan, Chrysolite and Amethyst from Egypt, Agate from Yemen, Sapphire from Sri Lanka, Coral from Arabia, Malachite from Russia, Quartz from the Himalayas, Diamond from Golconda near Hyderabad, and Shell and Mother of Pearl came from the Indian Ocean.

The best of inlay works are in the central chamber containing the replica of the graves of Mumtaj Mahal and Shahjahan. Unfortunately it is badly lit by a lone tungsten bulb and nothing is visible. Photography too is prohibited.

A few years after beginning the construction of the Taj Mahal, Shahjahan started demolishing old sandstone buildings in Agra and Lahore (now in Pakistan) forts and replaced them with marble structures ornamented with inlay work. Inlay has also been used to decorate many of his building in Lal Qila in Delhi where he embellished the wall behind the throne in Diwan-i-Aam with panels of inlay, executed by a Florentine artist Austin de Bordeaux. (The technical of inlay is known in Europe as pietra dura while in Agra it is known as pachkari).

Later he rebuilt in marble the mazaars of Sufi saints such as Sheikh Salim Chishti in Fatehpur Sikri (Agra), Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya in Delhi and Khwaja Moinuddin Chishti in Ajmer and had them embellished with inlay. This technique later spread to many provincial kingdoms and one can also find the use of inlay in the Golden Temple in Amritsar.

(NOT YET PUBLISHED)