Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined I’d get to proclaim to future generations that I lived through a pandemic (fingers crossed I make it)! Now, I know I’ve raced to the future and maybe skipped a few more ecological (most are human-caused) disasters, but I’d like to believe that we will survive this cruel ‘new normal’ through positive thoughts, social distancing, eating healthy, lending a hand to those in need, and loads of travel.

Travel? Did I read that right?

Why, yes, my friend. You did.

The beauty of travel is that it can be experienced in many forms; it doesn’t always have to include physical transportation to another place. As cliche as it sounds, travel is (if you want it to be) a state of mind. It’s about stepping not just physically but also mentally beyond borders and walls that are in place and in many cases, that we have created, and experiencing wholeheartedly a journey that is exciting, adventurous, and full of learning. And this can be achieved whether we literally take the thousand-mile journey, or we stay put when the world needs us to.

In books I have traveled, not only to other worlds, but into my own.

Anna Quindlen, How Reading Changed My Life

From the safety of our homes and the comfort of our couches, our armchairs, or our reading nooks (a pretentious way of saying ‘curled up in bed’), we are blessed to be able to travel not only to distant places but also to different times, simply by flipping the pages of books. This is a great privilege we enjoy, and it would be a shame to not only let it pass by but also to not share it with others.

Happy Discoveries

Many years ago, I travelled to the Indian capital city of Delhi and its neighbour, Agra. The short family trip to visit my dad who was then working in Delhi resulted in us dashing madly between different sights at odd hours of the day, loading up unabashedly on ghee-laden sweets and tangy chats, and painfully limiting our time at monuments that need one to leisurely drink in every detail, much like a desi cow strolling mid-road on a lazy afternoon.

The hasty nature of our trip was getting to me, so much so that while in the Agra Fort, I snapped at our guide who was rushing through his explanation in such rapid Hindi that he could’ve easily given Eminem’s Rap God a run for its money, asking if he would please slow his pace so that we could spend at least a few minutes at each of the palaces within the fort. My plea went unheeded to all but my dad, who when I was observing the marble lattice-work screen in the Diwan-i-Aam (the hall of public audience), took the opportune moment to say –

A few years ago, I came across a novel called The Twentieth Wife. Because of that book, I can imagine what the forts and palaces would’ve looked like at the time of the Mughals. Give it a try. It’s a nice read.

Papa Vas

About the Taj Trilogy

The Taj Trilogy is a three-part historical fiction series by India-American author Indu Sundaresan. Set in medieval India, in particular during the zenith of Mughal rule, each novel explores the reign of an emperor, and more importantly, the key women in their lives – the ones who shaped their reign and invariably, the country, all from behind their purdahs (veils).

The first of the series, The Twentieth Wife recounts the early and adult life of Mehrunissa, a woman of fine intelligence and beauty to match, who would eventually become the most powerful and controversial woman of Mughal India.

The Feast Of Roses picks up where the previous book left off; Mehrunissa, now empress through her marriage to Jahangir, navigates her way through convoluted harem and empire politics as Nur Jahan, the title bestowed on her by her husband.

In the final instalment of the Taj Trilogy, Shadow Princess skips a generation and dives head-first into the lives of the lesser-known children of Shah Jahan and his wife Mumtaz Mahal, namely princess Jahanara.

How the Taj Trilogy takes you on a journey of discovery across Medieval India

Indu Sundaresan is a gifted writer in every sense of the phrase. Her skilful amalgamation of historically accurate events and fickle yet delicious travellers’ accounts form the backbone of the three novels, which, like a trusted friend, take you by the hand and lead you to a time and place that you have only heard of and read about. Each chapter paints a vivid picture of different cities and towns of the period, each sentence adds a layer of brick to the forts and palaces, a row of shops along the busy alleys, and a royal wedding resplendent in colour and lavishness, as you continue to dive deeper into the richest empire of the time.

There’s an inexplicable peace that washes over you when travel is neither harried nor hurried. With the Taj Trilogy, lose yourself in narrow bazaar streets of Agra and Lahore to haggle with vendors selling everything from silks and satin to vegetables and sherbet, all the while knowing exactly where to go, as though you’ve been there before. Feel the clapping thunder of unrelenting monsoon, the humidity it leaves in its wake and the overabundance of life it brings in Bardwan (now Bardhaman). Inhale liberally the tantalizing aromas of the biryanis, curries, kebabs and kheers cooked to perfection in the imperial kitchens, meals fit for royalty. Struggle and fight to find footing among the throngs of people gathered at the Diwan-i-Aam, their jewelled turbans glittering and throwing splendid colours on sandstone-brown walls. Escape the searing summer heat of the Indo-Gangetic plains and breathe in the fresh, crisp mountain air in Srinagar as you walk through the royal gardens in full bloom, the looming Himalayas your constant companion. Watch in awe the Luminous Tomb being brought to life, assembled brick by brick on the banks of the Yamuna and being inlaid with precious stones of opulence unimaginable.

This is, in its essence, travel undertaken at one’s own pace – slow, purposeful, peaceful, and full of discoveries.

Tales and descriptions of incomprehensible wealth and power aside, each novel is centred around a singular theme – love. The forbidden passion that later evolves into a deep and abiding love between Nur Jahan and Jahangir colours the first and part of the second book. The classic head-over-heels, at-first-sight love that transcends life, so much so that it ends up being immortalized in marble as the Taj Mahal takes over the second and third instalments. The secretive, hushed love affair and the accompanying joys and sorrows that pepper the life of Jahanara make up the bulk of the third book. Beyond these fantastical love stories, the trilogy amply displays, through words, the strong bonds of familial love, the hollow, joyless existence that resulted from a marriage without love, and the more caustic, jealous hues of one-sided love.

The added bonus of early feminism

Besides taking us through the palaces, courts and realms of the period, the Taj Trilogy uninhibitedly talks of the place that women occupied then, at home and in the court. In both, they had to play second fiddle to patriarchal powers wielded by fathers and husbands. Beyond having no say in almost every matter – from education to marriage – the purdah system and the zenana (harem) screens that were in place to protect the dignity of women and their families acted as significant physical barriers to freedom, over and above emotional, mental and societal barriers that were placed upon the gender. In a nutshell, women were voiceless, faceless beings meant for bearing children, managing the home, and providing carnal satisfaction.

In claustrophobic environments such as these, one woman managed to ascend the ranks by employing her intelligence, wit, determination, and charm. Through years of cultivated skills and learning, she earned her place by a powerful ruler, and although behind a veil for all of her public life, she was able to issue royal orders with her signatory and seal, issue coins in her name, and undertake (or influence) trade treaties. Nur Jahan did what no woman in her time would even dare to think about – she gained immense power, even if through her husband, and is remembered by future generations for all things done on her own, as opposed to why Mumtaz Mahal is remembered. This juxtaposition of two women from the same family (they are aunt and niece), who married into the same imperial household, is quite reflective of today’s feminism. Both stem from women’s choices – one chose to be independent (or as independent as she could’ve been then), while the other willingly chose to be submissive to her husband, and if not for the Taj Mahal, only a handful would even remember Arjumand Banu Begum, the erstwhile name of Mumtaz Mahal.

Books are glass-paned windows into places we cannot currently explore on foot. They are a remedy for those itchy traveller’s feet, an escape into cultures different from our own, and a passport to nearly every country we could possibly dream of venturing to. The Taj Trilogy represents just three in several literary works that show us how travel can take multiple forms – different paths that take us to the same destination.

Books are the plane, and the train, and the road. They are the destination and the journey. They are home.

Anna Quindlen

Do you have any favourite books that take you on a journey as you turn each page? Let me know in the comments below. Also, happy reading! 🙂