The Taj Mahal is beautiful. Built by a man who loved his wife so much, he decided to erect a monument for her. And not just any monument, mind you. This was unique. He put everything he had into building it. Hired the best hands around India and the neighbouring areas and they, together, built him one of the most beautiful structures in the world. Tourists from all around the world brave the shithole that is Agra to see this supposed jewel.
But at what fucking price? Shah Jahan wanted this to be the only one of it's kind, and it was easy for the 20,000 workers to do it again, given the raw matieral, time and some money. He couldn't have that, no. The arrogant fuck cut all their hands off, so that they'd never be able to do that again.
40,000 of the most beautiful hands rotted that day.
That isn't beauty anymore. Those craftsmen were amazing at what they did. No, it doesn't just end there. They *lived* to do what they did. It was what gave their life meaning. Suddenly, they are punished for their limitless talent. How do you go on living after that? Sure, the human spirit has more resolve than people think, but this is way beyond that limit.
That isn't beautiful at all.
2 comments:
this is a bit late, but yes, i am the same raghuvir kasturi
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