The Taj

All I am doing today is blogging, it seems.

It is a way of keeping control of emotions, I guess.

I have once come to Mumbai for a marriage, but have not seen Taj.

Here is an article by Aravind Adiga in The Times Online. Please click the link and  read it in its entirety, it is good- emotional, but not sentimental; angry but not outrageous.

And here a moving passage from him about what Taj means to him, and to the man on the street:

"But what has really made this particular attack personal, even for those of us who have not lost family or friends to the terrorists, is what has happened to this hotel.

"When other Indians say Taj, they mean the world-famous marble monument in Agra; when people in Bombay speak of the Taj, they mean India's grandest hotel, the Taj Mahal hotel at the Gateway of India. The middle-class can afford to have tea; richer people can dine here; and only the super-rich, or visitors from abroad, can stay in this hotel. And yet all residents of Bombay regard this hotel with an intensity of pride and affection. We love the Taj because it is, frankly speaking, better than anything else in this city.

"Life in Bombay is profoundly unjust; more than half the residents live on the pavement or in the slums. Naturally we admire the fact that the Taj was founded in a fit of egalitarianism and fair play. In the 19th century, the legend goes, an Indian tycoon was refused admission into a whites-only hotel; he decided to start an hotel where a man would never be judged by the colour of his skin. In a young city where so much is transient the Taj has endured for more than a hundred years; it has the aura of antiquity in Bombay that Caesar's Forum has in Rome. In a badly planned metropolis, where so much is a disaster - the traffic, the water supply, the general infrastructure - the Taj sets a standard of excellence. Thanks to its exquisite service, rooms and food it is regarded as one of the world's great hotels; indeed, foreign visitors to Bombay seem to love the Taj at least as much as the natives do.

"In a class-obsessed city, the Taj is exclusive - but never snobbish. (The other hotel that was attacked, the Trident, probably charges less for its rooms and food, but has the distinct reputation of being a rich man's hotel.) Many working-class Mumbaikars save for weeks to have a coffee at the Taj; and then they save their receipts so they can show their relatives and friends.

"The hotel's interior may be reserved for the rich, but the famous exterior can be enjoyed by everyone. The palatial façade is a whimsical blend of Renaissance, Mughal and Gothic styles, and the net result is a celebration of all that's hybrid, improbable and incongruous in this world, making the Taj a perfect emblem for Bombay - the city that was dredged out of swamp and sea and populated with migrants from across the world.

"In this city of dreams and cinema, this hotel creates the best-loved civic space - the plaza around Gateway of India, where you might go with your family for a Sunday promenade, or to watch the ocean, or purchase some peanuts for a quick snack. In many ways, the Taj is more like a town hall than an hotel. And to see it burning and wounded and charred and vandalised like this is like seeing St Paul's attacked during the Blitz."

More is the pain.