The Krishna Key (34 page)
‘Why are the tombs off-centre?’ asked Radhika. tell us anything about the enbmef
‘Because the central one is that of Mumtaz Mahal,’ replied Saini. ‘The Taj Mahal was never planned with a view to accommodating Shah Jahan too. So, when Shah Jahan’s cenotaph was eventually placed side-by-side with that of Mumtaz Mahal, the graves began
to look off-centre. The more important fact to note, though, is that these aren’t the real tombs.’
‘What do you mean? Who lies buried there if not Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal?’ asked Radhika with some of her old asperity.
‘What I meant was that the tombs one sees here on this level are merely decorative. The real graves lie one level below, and that is the next greatest mystery of this structure,’ said Saini, pulling up a small sketch of the vertical layout of the Taj Mahal on his phone.
‘To get from the garden level to the main terrace of the Taj Mahal we walk up steps that take us four feet higher,’ explained Saini. ‘We then climb the steps of the marble plinth. These steps ascend almost nineteen feet. We then ascend four more steps outside the cenotaph and two more steps in the doorway. This takes us up a further four feet. In all, we ascend twenty-seven feet from the garden to the level of the cenotaph. But to go down to the real grave chamber beneath the decorative cenotaphs, we have to walk down twenty-one steps—approximately sixteen feet. It means that the real grave chamber is almost eleven feet above garden level. What lies in those unaccounted eleven feet?’
Yudhistira ruled his kingdom according to the precepts laid down by dharma. Parikshit grew up
to be a handsome young man. Dhritarastra and Gandhari continued to live in Hastinapur and Yudhistira did everything possible for their wellbeing. Eventually, the old blind king thought that it was time to give up the comforts of the palace and retire into the forests. ‘Let’s go, Gandhari,’ he said to her. His half-brother, Vidura, decided to follow, and so did the Pandavas’ mother, Kunti. Yudhistira tried to stop them but they were determined. One day, when they were resting in the forest, a fire broke out. ‘Run!’ shouted Dhritarastra as soon as he discovered that a forest fire had started. ‘Why?’ asked his wife. The old king considered the fact that they were at the end of their lives anyway. The elders thus continued to calmly sit in the forest, allowing the flames to consume them.
‘What could be within those eleven feet?’ asked Radhika, now visibly excited.
‘Before we explore what could be there, let’s just step back for a moment and understand the history of this structure a little better, shall we?’ asked Saini, adopting his professorial demeanour.
Radhika smiled. ‘Sure, Professor, why don’t you enlighten me?’ she said teasingly.
‘In the Government of India’s National Archives lies a document. It is called the
Badshahnama
—the official history of Shah Jahan written by the emperor’s chronicler, Mullah Abdul Hamid Lahori.’
‘And what does it say?’ asked Radhika.
Saini smiled and said, ‘It says that upon the death of Mumtaz Mahal, Raja Man Singh’s palace in Agra
—at that time owned by Raja Jaisingh, his grandson—was selected for burial of Arjumand Banu Begum alias Mumtaz-ul-Zamani—Mumtaz Mahal’s real name. The
Bads a small earthen plate—around four centimetres long and an equal four centimetres wide. mab scriptureshahnama
says that although Raja Man Singh’s family valued the property greatly as an ancestral heritage, they were agreeable to part with it gratis for the Emperor Shah Jahan. However, out of scruples that were so very essential in matters of bereavement and religious sanctity, Jaisingh was granted a piece of government land in return.’
‘Are you telling me that this was a Hindu raja’s palace at one time?’ asked Radhika.
‘Well, some of it,’ responded Saini. ‘We can’t tell which parts are original and which were added on later. What we do know is that it belonged to the family of Raja Man Singh and that it was given to Shah Jahan so that he could create a final resting place for his queen.’
Radhika was quiet. Her head was reeling with all the information Saini had thrown at it. ‘Come with me to the river bank,’ said Saini. They quickly left the Taj complex and went to the riverbank.
‘Ravi,’ complained Radhika. ‘You’re dragging me around all over the place!’
Saini pulled out the notebook and read aloud from it.
Seek Shiv at the highest point, Seek Vish by the sea; Give up your quest, for they are one, only your heart can see. When creation and destruction are unified, And 894 reigns supreme; Where coconuts and lotuses adorn my crown, by the river I shall be. Cast aside hatred and learn to
love, Man Singh says to you. Search my temple of seven floors, and you will find me too. You seek the stone that turns lead to gold, but verily do not find; search instead for the faithful stone that can truly transform your mind.
‘
Where coconuts and lotuses adorn my crown, by the river I shall be!
You just saw the dome of the Taj—it has an inverted lotus. The Islamic pinnacle on top also has a coconut and kalash. Here, we are standing right
by the river
—along the banks of the Yamuna. The inscription was not pointing us towards Vrindavan, but towards the Taj Mahal!’ said Saini, by now thoroughly electrified.
‘But the Taj Mahal is not a seven-floor structure,’ argued Radhika.
‘Radhika, you are making the same mistake that all casual observers make. See, from here you now have a riverside view of the Taj Mahal,’ said Saini pointing to its dome.
‘The marble structure that we call the Taj Mahal is apparently three-storeyed—to the casual observer. But if we add the grave level below the ornamental cenotaph, as well as the large hall in the dome, we can recalculate that the structure is actually five-storeyed. Below the plinth are two more storeys that reach down here to the river level. Behind this row of arches are twenty-two sealed rooms. They were sealed during Shah Jahan’s times and have been never opened since. The point I am making is that the Taj Mahal is actually a seven-storeyed structure!
Cast aside hatred and learn to love, Man Singh says to you. Search my temple of seven floors, and you will find me too!’
In the meantime, in Dwarka, my foolish son, Sambha, had decided to play a prank on a group of visiting sages
—
Vishvamitra, Kanva and Narada. His friends disguised him as a pregnant woman and asked the sages whether the child to be born would be male or female. The sages, angered,’ replied Sir Khans.is Saini and Radhika because they had seen through the deception, cursed all the Yadava clans. ‘Neither male, nor female. You shall deliver an iron bar, one that will spell the final destruction of the entire Yadava tribe!’ they thundered. Gandhari’s curse on me was playing itself out through the sages. Soon, an iron rod emerged from Sambha’s thigh.
Balarama, who was nearby, panicked, ground it into powder and threw it into the seas along with a small piece that refused to be ground. The powder was washed ashore to Prabhas Patan, where it mutated into reeds that were strong as iron bars, awaiting the final theatre of destruction.
‘But the Taj Mahal is not a Hindu temple, it’s an Islamic mausoleum,’ countered Radhika.
‘Yes, but it was a palace
before
it became a tomb. And every palace would have had a temple. Most importantly, this was a property that belonged to Raja Man Singh. The evidence is all there!’ insisted Saini, excitedly.
‘But why does Man Singh talk about creation and destruction being unified?’ asked Radhika.
‘Did you notice the tiling pattern as we approached the monument?’ asked Saini, hardly apropos of what Radhika had just said.
‘How could I have?’ asked Radhika caustically. ‘You were constantly prodding me to look up at the dome!’
‘Let’s go back,’ said Saini, and they returned to the Taj Mahal’s gardens. Radhika was quick to spot, this time round, what Saini had been alluding to. The tiling work had six-pointed stars embedded as a pattern within!
‘As I told you earlier, the six-pointed star represents the union of Shiv and Shakti,’ said Saini. ‘The coming-together of male and female is the starting point of creation. The symbolism of the Sanskrit inscription is to be found in its entirety at the Taj
Mahal. The mausoleum not only represents death—because it is a memorial containing the bodies of Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal—but also represents the rising of beauty from the muddy riverbank of the Yamuna. Creation and destruction in one place!
When creation and destruction are unified…’
‘And 894 reigns supreme…’
interrupted Radhika. ‘You cannot ignore the line that talks about the number 894. How does that fit in with the location?’ asked Radhika.
‘You obviously do not know much about mystical numbers,’ said Saini, with a superior air. ‘I’ve had a chance to think about it and this is what struck me. Among Hindus, 108 is considered the holiest of numbers. You will find that 18, 108, 1008, 10008—and further similar variations—are all considered sacred. The
Mahabharata
has 18 chapters; there were 18 Yadava clans of Krishna; Jarasandha attacked Mathura 18 times; the Mahabharata war lasted 18 days; 18 armies fought the great battle; there are 18 chapters in each of our
Vedas;
there are 18
Puranas;
there were 18
Maharathi
—or exalted—
warriors in the Mahabharata war; there are 18 chapters in the
Bhagwad Gita…’
‘Yes, yes, I know. But how does 108 relate to 894?’ asked Radhika.
‘Have some patience, Radhika,’ admonished Saini gently, but with the same patronising air. ‘All shall be revealed soon. 108 is holy,’ replied Sir Khan69 sai for the Hindus but in the Islam of the Indian subcontinent, the number 786 is considered very holy, almost the equivalent of Allah.’
‘Why?’ asked Radhika, befuddled by the mysterious numerical theories being presented to her.
‘In Arabic, there is a method known as the
Abjad
—or ordinal—method. Each letter has an arithmetic value assigned to it from one to one thousand. The very first verse of the Qur’an is
Bismillah al-Rahman al-Rahim,
and if you take the numeric values of all the letters of this first verse in accordance with the Abjad order, the total is 786,’ explained Saini.
