True Colors of TajMahal

I was holding my first

poetry collection like a

father holding his first baby.

My wallet was laughing at me

with the last dime.

All the money were spent on

the birth of the first book.

I wanted to visit the Taj Mahal

and dedicate my book to the

symbol of love.

When I reached Agra,

I was freezing for a moment to

see the beauty of the Taj Mahal.

I slowly walked towards the

white beauty

my heartbeats were raising

I kept my book on the feet of

the mighty Taj Mahal.

I sat in front of the river

Yamuna and watching the silence

of Taj Mahal for hours under

the red sky

If Taj Mahal is one of the

seven wonders then

Mumtaz must be the eighth wonder.

History says Shajahan fell in

love with Mumtaz at first sight

the same way the eyes seeing

Taj Mahal for the first time will fall

in eternal love forever.

A few moments later someone

touched my shoulder.

A soldier was standing behind me.

He took me to few centuries

back.

It was a big palace surrounded

by lots of green.

He asked me to wait under a tree

and left.

I could smell the fragrance of yellow flowers

and the place was like heaven.

A few minutes later, she emerged

from the palace like a moonrise

from the black sky.

Her eyes were filled with tears

The date was 7th July 1631.

She whispered,

Why would I need 14 children?

14th is the most painful.

14th is the most painful.

To whom I can share the pain of

giving birth to a child?

An angel is shattered 

A dream is crushed

Her tears tumble down like 

an aphonic river;

I felt the pain of her

I embraced the mother of love.

My poetry collection "True Colors of TajMahal"

was born for a thirty-seven-year-old

mother and her name was

Mumtaz Mahal.