A place for a bit of respite for the sensory overload of India?

"I want someone to love me like that," was my first thought when I first glimpsed the Taj Mahal. Touted as the world's grandest testimony to love, the Taj Mahal in Agra, India, is the mausoleum of Empress Mumtaz Mahal, the beloved second wife of Shah Jehan who ruled India in the 17th century. According to legend, the shah was so distraught by his beloved wife's passing (she died while giving birth to their 14th child), that he vowed to keep her memory alive forever. The resulting tribute, which took 20,000 workers and between 10 and 22 years to finish, comprises expansive gardens and a mosque in addition to the fabled tomb.

Usually in India, all the senses receive simultaneous over-stimulation. Never has my nose been assaulted by such a variety of odors so strong and pervasive I could taste them. My eyes are constantly alert for speeding vehicles, errant cows, pleading sick and broken homeless. Even my sense of touch is constantly worked by street peddlers grabbing at me, or passersby stroking my Anglo skin, seemingly curious to see if my texture differs from theirs.

But upon crossing into the Taj Mahal's grounds, all my senses are soothingly massaged as I stroll with Indian families and foreigners, all of us sharing equal reverence for this serene atmosphere, the emerald green gardens a counterpoint to the frenzied streets of Agra. The front gardens lead the way to the masoleum, only the outline of which is visible when first entering the grounds. But as the visitor approaches the entryway, the full splendor of the Taj Mahal is framed in a keyhole arch.

Like the pyramids of Egypt or the flag on the moon, the Taj Mahal looks surreal against its landscape. In juxtaposition to the brown air and grey buildings of Agra, the snowy whiteness of the Taj Mahal is like seeing the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel, with the mausoleum's marble dome glowing in stark contrast to the lapis blue sky. Adding to its otherworldly appearance is the image of its twin, a perfect double in the reflection pools at its base. The expansive lawns give the visitor plenty of opportunity to find a solitary vantage point to admire its beauty and capture those perfect photos.

The Taj through the haze surrounding Agra.

I found my ideal spot, but it didn't take long before the outside world encroached upon my space.

"Excuse me, I am groundkeeper here, I know good spot take photo."

I sigh heavily as my peace is disturbed by the third "groundskeeper" who has approached me. I know that many have a hard life here. India is extremely overpopulated, with 1 billion people jammed into a territory roughly one-third the size of the U.S. These men are surely just trying to feed themselves and their families, but I wanted a break from the bustle for just one afternoon.

But I finally give in to one of the "keepers" and trail him to a supposedly "little-known" vantage point. I give him a few rupees in "appreciation" of his kindness, but he looks at it in disdain. "Americans usually give me a dollar," he sneers. Sigh.

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