02/01/09:It was a lazy start to the day as we were already maxed out by 2 days of early rising. At 10am, we lumbered to Joney’s for a good breakfast. As if my prayers were answered, we ran into Marty who had just finished his meal. It was our last day in Agra and I told Faruq that it would be nice if we could bid proper farewells to the new friends we’ve made on top of exchanging contact numbers.
But we soon discovered that there would be no end to meeting newer ones on this journey. A few steps outside Joney’s, on our way for tea at Shanti Lodge, we were approached by 2 foreign-born Indians, Rahul and Nidya. It was a Friday and the Taj was closed for the day so the pair had asked if we knew of a good vantage point to view the marble wonder. We figured that we could use some new company as well so the 4 of us settled on the rooftop of Shanti Lodge, sipping chai as we admire Taj from a distance and exchanged life stories.
The pair made a quick exit to embark on a city tour while we lazed around for another good hour before signing up for the day trip to Fatehpur Sikri. Just an hour’s drive away, Fatehpur Sikri is a magnificent conglomerate of palaces and mosques perched high on a hilltop fort. The first of its buildings to greet us was the Jama’ Masjid – entrance is free but visitors are not allowed to wear shoes in. The mosque alone was enough reason for you to visit Fatehpur Sikri without having to pay for the other palaces which, honestly, would look the same once you’ve visited a fort too many.
As I placed my right foot onto its red sandstone floor, the first wave of touts came rushing in, all were young boys throwing themselves at us for a small fee – all except for one. He claimed to take us around for free as he sees it as an obligation given he is a student at the Masjid’s madrasah. But nothing in this world is free, my friend. We gave in after a few rounds of debate to shake him off but he won’t budge. If truth be told, he would have made himself a cool sum if he had just stick to tour-guiding – his ‘earnest’ and persistent disposition would have earned in some tips at day’s end. But, to coax us to purchase come marble paraphernalia at the end threatened to worsen an already sour beginning. Of course, letting that get to my head would render victory to the touts.
We enjoyed another half hour at the Jama’ Masjid, this time on our own, before walking to Sikri to have a quick look. Along the way, a young boy peddling postcards came up and blurted:
“Are you Hindi?”
I must say that I expected myself to be mistaken as an Indian but to have a kid spewing such blatant honesty suddenly seemed foul to me. They just say the darndest thing, don’t they? By then, Faruq was a heap of laughter as I went on nagging about the boy. By the time the next boy came along, I was quick to identify that I was a Rajasthani from Udaipur.
That night, we got ready to leave for Varanasi via train which was scheduled at 9pm. While waiting for our departure, we managed a half hour tea at the rooftop. It was then that we met Kelly, alone traveler from Guangzhou. She was animated, which made for an interesting brief meet-up. When we finally got to the train station a little pass 9pm, we learnt that the train was delayed for 4 hours. Unwilling to bump around in the station’s squalid conditions, we headed back to Taj Ganj to use the internet. We ran into Marty and Kelly for the last time in Agra and by 12.30am, we were ready to return to the station, this time in thick fog which had developed over the city in split seconds.
The agony unfolds…
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