Chasing Shadows at Safdarjung

Jaded by the clamorous malls, cafes with loud music and chaotic traffic jams, one day I invited my friends to a place which we had long left behind within the confines of our history books. Though we never forgot making fun of our history teacher even after so many years of leaving school.

Here, at Safdarjung Tomb, there was no loud music or flashing lights to entertain us and this monument seemed like an icon of sadness and boredom standing tall on a busy road. Leaving the chaos of the traffic behind we went to buy the tickets. 

With sun at its extreme, we wandered around the Safdarjung Tomb chasing each others' shadows. This tomb was built in 1754 by Shuja'u'd-Daula, son of Safdar Jang.
Curious as ever, I rushed towards the stairs of the tomb to explore the various facets of the monument. I was amazed to see the flawless architecture and symmetry defining this wonderful structure. The grandeur with which the Mughals lived is pretty much evident in all their monuments. Plethora of space and the intricate work on stones makes their architecture distinct.

The stairs may look bland but imagine them covered with a royal carpet, hear the chimes of anklets. Lo and behold! You have created the magic of Mughal era in your mind.

 If we think of tombs, they are places where the remains of the dead are buried. Such a huge monument to honor the deceased? Probably they thought the dead relived their royal life even after they were no more.

The silence of the monument was a nice change from the chaos outside. It is strange that the road where this tomb lies is one of the busiest roads of the city. However, to spend some moments in its vicinity were soothing. A part of me was relieved, was at ease or probably 'laid to rest'. As the sun was not camera friendly, we started clicking shadows.

Shadows, which wove tales of our friendship in the darkness engulfing the tomb. Whenever we spoke, our voices echoed like being engraved in one of these stones. From royal farmaans to our superficial excitement and lovers' promises, these walls hear it all. They absorb our thoughts, our unspoken musings as well those names scribbled with a piece of chalk or charcoal.
After seeping in all the vastness of this Mughal monument, we started our retreat back to our mundane worlds. I left the premises of the tomb in a lighter and cheerer mood, a thing I never attain out of an urban cosmetic establishment. Chasing the shadows seemed the right thing to do that evening than trying to listen to others in the cacophony that surrounds us.