"Taj Mahal" published in Ashvamegh

My short story "Taj Mahal" was published in Ashvamegh. Here is the link:

http://ashvamegh.net/2018-issues/january-xxxvi/short-stories/taj-mahal/

Taj Mahal

By Sreya Sarkar

Richard stretched his long limbs as he swept his eyes over the luscious garden visible through the wide ITC Mughal hotel windows. It’s luxurious layout with charming fountains and creeper laden canopies reminded one of a bygone era charm. A tender breeze ruffled the well-trimmed hedges outside, sluggishly swung the ornate hanging brass lamps and tousled Richard’s already disheveled hair. He leaned against the reception counter waiting to check in, making some guests’ heads turn. It happened to him often. Having a white American father and an Indian mother gave him striking mixed features. People were intrigued by the uncommon combination—blue eyes, fair skin, jet black hair and a towering height.

As Richard stepped out of the elevator and took a flight of stairs to the roof, he saw the white majestic Taj through the haze of city smog. There it stood displayed to the World like a jeweled crown waiting for an emperor to claim it lovingly. His shaking hands involuntarily reached out for the gemlike symmetric perfection. He closed his eyes and saw her silky black curls bouncing on her chiseled jaw, her expressive brown eyes twinkling with delight. He could imagine her humming excitedly as she lay her eyes on her favorite Taj. How much she had wished to see Taj Mahal with her beloved.

They had planned to meet in Delhi a day before their first anniversary. “I want to celebrate it with style in the land of love and warmth”, she had told him. Richard had not been particularly interested. “You have seen Taj Mahal plenty of times. Why can’t we go to Greece? It would be delightful to soak in the crystal blue waters on the islands. But no, you want to go back to dusty Agra.” He had pouted, twisting the Visit Greece travel brochures into a gnarled mess. Humera had cupped his sulking face with her slender hands and looked deeply into Richard’s blue eyes, “But you have not seen Taj. I want to see you when you see Taj.” Richard shook away the tears crowding his eyes, breathed in the sunny dry air and tried exhaling out his misery. He was not ready to open up those nasty memory wounds and bleed again.

As he settled down in his hotel room Richard’s thoughts moved to his mother. His mother was fond of Taj as well, just like Humera. He never understood their obsession with the monument. As a boy, he had come to Delhi several times with his mother but they had never had the time to venture out to Agra. His mother had Punjabi parents but had grown up in Delhi mostly. Her father was an engineer, had a transferable job and had to shift base and travel to many parts of the country including Uttar Pradesh. That is how she had got to spend some years in Agra and grew fond of the monument. His mother did not want him to travel alone to Agra. She wanted to come with him but Richard knew that he had to come alone.

Hey baby, I caught a glimpse of your favorite Taj. It looks grand from here. I hope I won’t be disappointed when I get near it he whispered. Humera looked at him with a coy smile. You are going to love it baby. I know it. I love you! she whispered back. Humera was a researcher of Mughal Empire, and had travelled to several Mughal monuments in the Indian subcontinent, but she had fallen in love with Taj the moment she saw it.

To read more go to the link mentioned above.