The Taj Mahal: A Short Story

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“Sleep is just one of those few things you loose when you are the emperor of India,” Shahjahan thought as he lay wide-awake in the bed late one night. It was nothing new. He was used to it and took it sportingly. He often joked 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 with twinkling stars that stretched as far as eyes could see. The sight mesmerised him and no sooner he had begun to forget his mental preoccupation, it struck him. “The Taj Mahal was like a night sky without the twinkling stars. His Taj Mahal…show more content…
It lay spread on the floor beside the bed. A faint ray of light from a chandelier in the other room sneaked through the curtains and fell on the part of the diagram where the onion shaped constricted neck of the bulbous dome would cover 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…show more content…
An intense feeling of peace followed next. At first he couldn’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 with everyone associated with the Taj Mahal project. Shahjahan took another sip of the sherbet. The ice had melted. But it didn’t matter. He had found the answer. Providence had shown him the way. Ustad Isa Khan was the 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 covered in his hands. Shahjahan came straight to the point. With his left hand he unveiled the thing, it was one of the finest miniatures of Jahangir period, and spoke. “Mian Isa you see this painting. Now you have to convert it exactly into

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