If it wasn’t for Narendra Bhawan, Bikaner would probably have never featured on our India travel list. While the state of Rajasthan most certainly is, it’s the usual suspects that feature on the list – Jaipur, Jodhpur, Jaisalmer, Udaipur. Charles has visited Jaipur and Jaisalmer several times thanks to his day job, and I’ve been to Jaipur on a shoot myself. But we’ve never really visited as tourists or travellers.
My breathing is loud, heavy and slow. My heartbeat thuds just as loudly, threatening to explode out of my chest. My hands have gripped the railing in front of my seat and my knuckles are white. They’re sweaty, and my fingers keep slipping off the rusted metal. I’m at the edge of my seat, ready to flee. But there’s nowhere I can flee. Right now, I’m in the safest spot
The tomb of Itmad Ud Daulah seemed to me possibly the most unsung hero of Mughal Agra. A glittering jewel encrusted mausoleum, the first one to be made entirely of marble, when compared to the Taj Mahal (after all it is called the Baby Taj) what it lacks in size, it makes up for in style. The story of Itimad Ud Daulah Itmad Ud Daulah almost didn’t get his shot at
The Taj Mahal. The world’s greatest monument to love. One of the Seven Wonders of the World. India’s pride and glory. The most iconic Mughal structure. A tomb like no other, an eternal promise, a thing of beauty. One that has moved millions to tears, provided the backdrop for countless love stories through time, a symbol of hope and faith, that the great love, the kind that lives forever does
I woke up with a start at 3 am. Someone, or something had turned on the lights in my tent. I looked up at the lamp overhead as it swayed ominously in the wind. It was loud. How had I been sleeping through this ruckus?, I thought to myself as the windows of my tent flapped loudly and noisily against the canvas. The poles holding my tent in place creaked