Agony and ecstasy at Taj Mahal

Lesson for 'foreign' tourists in India:

by Arul Sathiyanathan

People world over would think that a visit to Taj Mahal would remain a life long, memorable experience which is partly true when one sees the Taj Mahal in real, the experience is great.

I visited Taj Mahal with a colleague of mine on a bright sunny day of April, two years ago and the experience of course was memorable, good as well bad! My excruciating experience at the Taj, had to be told to caution the readers who wish to visit the Taj, because a slip up might land you in a mess like what happened to me and my colleague.

My friend and myself both from "Lake House", i a journalist and he, a photo journalist were on a humanitarian mission in New Delhi when we joined a group of tourists that morning to visit the Taj Mahal. The tourist group of Indians and foreigners which included Pakistanis and Bangladeshis, reached the great Agra Fort before proceeding to Taj.

The tour agent who picked us up at our hotel that early morning advised us that we need not have to pay Rs. 750 for the ticket being the entrance fee for foreigners as we could easily pass off for locals and, to buy Rs. 20 ticket which is for Indian citizens only.

Of course, it was a blessing in disguise, as we were cash - strapped with the then exchange rate, where a Sri Lankan rupee fetched less than half an Indian rupee.

The bus driver and his assistant too 'advised' us on the same 'tone'. While touring the Red Fort, this time, the guide who got friendly with us also told me to go for local ticket at Agra which we did. The driver too came out with the same advice to the Pakistanis and the Bangladeshis to purchase Rs. 20 ticket.

After a biriyani lunch in the sleepy town of Agra, we got back to the bus which was to proceed to the Taj Mahal, world's greatest love monument. Our vehicles, which nearing Taj stopped this side of a three km stretch and the tourists were conveyed to the Taj Mahal by battery operated buses. So we got into that shuttle service and reached the entrance of Taj.

As it was a Saturday, there was a long queue at the entrance to buy tickets. There were two counters one for locals and the other for foreigners. I discussed with my friend Saman Wedage and he too agreed with me that to follow the advice given by others who seemed to be familiar with the set up. So, I bought two twenty rupee tickets meant thus saving Rs. 730 each between us.

We stood in the queue and when were about to hand over the tickets at the entrance, a hand from nowhere reached out and pulled me by my collar. When I turned around to see a policeman, a dark complexioned short, gun totting man in uniform, signalling me and my friend Saman to move to a side, to let others to pass.

The Uttar Pradesh policeman grinned at me and declared in Hindi that we are foreigners and further confirmed as Sri Lankans. I was taken aback at his revelation and wondered as to how he had identified our nationality so correctly!

He managed to apprehend a Bangladeshi too at about the same time, for not buying the correct ticket. I told my friend to remain nonchalant as he was not so familiar with the Indian set-up while I tried to implore on the policeman that we were Madarasis (from Tamil Nadu) and that I spoke Tamil and English.

The UP policeman knew only Hindi which was Latin and Greek to me. Though he understood my English he preferred not know and spoke in Hindi. I knew he was very confident that we were Sri Lankans and it was not possible to go beyond him, now that we had broken the rules. He was not willing to buy our Madarasi story, so finally I have to stop selling that line.

Then I turned to the Bangladeshi for help who knew Hindi as well as Urdu to speak to the policeman explaining our position and that we were willing to buy tickets meant for foreigners. He went up and spoke to him for a few minutes and returned.

Now the policeman told us that two tickets would cost us Rs. 1,500 and seemed willing to allow us in but, demanded one thousand rupees as bribe! As time was ticking and anxious to catch up with our group, we agreed to pay the amount. I had six hundred rupees in my hand and quickly palmed it off.

We got to the queue, after a thorough security search we were finally let inside the outer sanctum of the Taj. As we stepped on to the platform we saw the majestic view of the grand monument. It was about five in the evening and the view was glorious in the evening sunshine beyond description. We had to walk about a Kilometre to reach the Taj Mahal.

I was shaken up by the incident at the gate and something told me to move fast. I told my friend to dp likewise but he, at his leisure pulled out his professional camera and began to click.

I felt uneasy and warned him not to take pictures but walk up to Taj Mahal. But Saman Wedege, being a true professional photographer, defied my words explain that the natural lighting was ideal and cannot resist the opportunity!

While we were passing by a small Mogul pond, I heard Saman calling me out who was supposed to be behind me. I turned back only to see that Saman now Saman with another cop. My mouth ran dry when I realised that we were in hot water, again!

This policeman attired in trousers and spoke fluent English told me that we had violated the rules and that we are under arrest. It was about six in the evening and imagine we were left helpless in a land, totally foreign to us. A shiver went down my spine and managed to whisper why, while mumbling the old same old 'Madarasi' story, but with no Hindi. He laughed it off and led us to a side and made us sit on a park bench.

He must be an officer, I thought, because he chose his words and was very cool. I told him as Madarasi it was my first visit to Delhi as well as to Agra. I also told him that we came with a group and that we have to catch up with the group to proceed further to Gokul and Brindavan en route Delhi.

"You are lying. I'm certain that both of you are from Sri Lanka and had bought twenty rupee tickets. You have cheated Utter Pradesh laws and now you are under arrest. If you are going to stick to your story, I have no choice but to hand you both over to higher authorities who in turn will put you both in the cell until Monday (that day was Saturday) and later produced before court." - His words were very sure and firm.

I turned to my friend and explained in Sinhala our plight. Only the previous day we had landed in New Delhi on a two week mission in which we had been to Allahabad in search of a missing Sri Lankan who got lost while on a pilgrimage. We had about two hundred thousand rupees worth of foreign currency, an expensive camera and a few gold items. As a Tamil I would have been able to manage in Tamil Nadu.

By this time Saman who knew nothing of our conversation, got agitated and told me that as foreigners, we have the right to take this matter to the Sri Lanka High Commission in Delhi for their intervention. "Let's give a call and explain the situation" he told me in anger.

The policeman who was seated next to me noticed the body language of Saman also got annoyed, rose to his feet and poised himself to hit Saman. I rose and held his hand and pleaded with him. He cooled down and sat now. I knew the impending danger looming over our heads.

Finally I confessed that we were Sri Lankans indeed and explained as to what made us buy wrong tickets. "Officer, we have learned a good lesson and we say sorry. Please let us go. We want to return to our bus", I pleaded with him.

As my final attempt also failed, I pleaded for mercy! Since our travel documents were with our bus driver, and if the bus leaves, leaving us behind, imagine our plight, stateless people in our neighbouring land!

"I am so pleased to see you have finally come down. Now let's talk. You both tried to save one thousand four hundred and sixty by spending only forty rupees on tickets. It is a good saving. So why not part a little of that for releasing you?" he asked me without any hesitation.

And for the first time he smiled and that smile was good enough for us but the time was running out. After few minutes of bargaining, he settled down to four hundred which we parted with quickly.

"What's the guarantee that we wouldn't be arrested once again?" I asked him with trepidation. I was too worn out and wanted to get the hell out of the place!!.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you!" and signalled us to proceed. We turned around and with a cursory look at the Taj Mahal made a dash towards the gate.

As we passed the gate that the same old gun totting policeman came tried rushing behind but we managed to get away. It was dark and the time was about seven. We got onto a horse cart and reached the bus where it was parked.

As the cart was about to move, we realised that our hand phones were in the locker for safe keeping. Except for the camera, no electronic items, cigarettes and lighters are allowed inside of Taj.

I stopped the cart before telling my friend to wait in the cart till I return with the phones. I walked and before I got to the place where lockers were, I felt some one near me. I turned only to see that same old policeman with an angry face. He told me in broken English that I owe him four hundred and with least resistance I pulled out what he wanted and gave him. I had no other choice.

We rushed back to the bus which was waiting for us. I related the bad experience to those smiling Indians and blamed the driver and the guide by encouraging us to buy the wrong tickets.

But much later it dawned on us that someone from our group may have tipped off the policeman that we were Sri Lankans.

Seven hundred rupees to get to see the Mahal seemed too much for a Sri Lankan purse, but what we learned from the experience was too big a bargain in exchange for a long sojourn in an Indian jail.

It was an experience, I think so. It is always better to pay stipulated payments when you are on a foreign soil, and it is better to abide by the laws of the land, rather than negotiating a price for a ticket!