More Than a Love Story

 

In Mustansir Dalvi’s translation of the poem “Taj Mahal,” the reader is led not through a celebration of romantic architecture, but rather a piercing critique of the history, inequality, and forgotten pain behind one of the world’s most iconic symbols of love. The poem takes a bold stance: it dismantles the romantic idealism traditionally associated with the Taj Mahal and exposes the imperialist, classist foundations upon which such beauty stands. Through rich imagery, rhetorical questions, and ironic contrasts, Dalvi invites us to look past the marble façade and meet “some place else” emotionally, morally, and intellectually.

“Let us meet some place else"

This repeated line is the heart of the poem. At first, it might sound like a sweet and romantic invitation. But as you read more, it becomes clear that it’s actually a strong message. The speaker is asking to walk away from the idea that love needs to be shown through wealth, power, or big monuments like the Taj Mahal. The poem questions the kind of love that’s remembered through things built with the pain and suffering of others.

This line also carries a deeper meaning. It’s like the speaker is saying, “Let’s not find love in grand buildings or royal stories anymore.” Instead, let’s find it in something real something that doesn’t shine because of gold or marble, but because it’s honest and fair. It’s a call to shift how we see love not as something to be shown off, but something to be felt deeply, shared quietly, and remembered truthfully. Not in monuments built by empires, but in moments built by hearts.

Traditionally viewed as the pinnacle of romantic architecture, the Taj Mahal here is stripped of its sentimental cloak. It is portrayed not as a monument of love, but as a symbol of imperial vanity, exploitation, and inequality. The poem dismantles the sanitized narrative of Shah Jahan’s love for Mumtaz Mahal, replacing it with the silenced voices of laborers, the blood of forefathers, and the vanity of emperors. The speaker questions: “What worth then, the passing of lovelorn souls?” and describes the monument as a byproduct of wealth rather than emotion.

In this perspective, the Taj Mahal no longer shines as a sacred site of love, but glistens with the blood and sweat of unnamed artisans. The monument is seen as a legacy not of passion, but of hierarchical dominance and the dehumanization of the poor.

Dalvi’s poem does not merely question love it questions the romanticization of wealth, power, and legacy. It critiques how history often glorifies emperors and their expressions of love while erasing the laborers and victims of those same regimes. By describing the lovers who “are long gone, nameless, without a trace,” the poet emphasizes how genuine love is often forgotten, while artificial monuments endure.

This directly challenges the idea that love needs to be immortalized through massive, expensive architecture. In truth, many who loved deeply never had the means to leave behind grandiose structures, yet their love was no less valuable.

Dalvi’s translation makes powerful use of literary devices like symbolism, imagery, and irony to strengthen the poem’s message. Through vivid imagery, lines such as “seeped in the blood of our forefathers” and “resilient creepers on the face of the world” paint a haunting picture of the suffering and sacrifice behind the Taj Mahal’s beauty. These images shift the focus from love to loss, forcing readers to see the monument not as a romantic symbol, but as a reminder of forgotten pain. Symbolism also plays a key role, as the Taj Mahal itself becomes more than a building it stands as a symbol of inequality, built on the backs of the poor, yet praised as a work of eternal love. The use of irony is especially striking; while the poem admires the structure’s fine details, it also reveals that this very beauty mocks the true meaning of love, as it was created through oppression, not affection.

Dalvi’s interpretation of the Taj Mahal doesn’t stand alone it reflects a larger truth about how many iconic structures around the world were built through the hard labor and suffering of people who were never remembered. The poem speaks to the erasure of these workers, just like those who built the Pyramids, the Great Wall, or the grand cathedrals of Europe people whose hands shaped history but whose names were left behind. It also highlights the deep class divide, showing how emperors and the wealthy commissioned these grand creations while the poor paid the price with their sweat and lives. 

When Dalvi writes that the monument is “seeped in the blood of our forefathers,” he forces us to remember that beneath every polished stone lies a story of pain and sacrifice. The poem also questions how history is told, reminding us that behind every romanticized story like Shah Jahan’s love for Mumtaz there is often a harsher, hidden truth. Finally, when it speaks of lovers “nameless, without a trace,” it mirrors the lives of countless laborers whose existence has been forgotten. And this is where the poem leaves us with a powerful reminder: before we admire beauty, we must learn to see the pain behind it, because when we choose to celebrate only the surface, we risk becoming blind to the injustice that built it.

Mustansir Dalvi’s “Taj Mahal” doesn’t ask us to reject beauty, it asks us to see beyond it. It challenges the stories we’ve been told about love and power, urging us to question what was lost to create what we now admire. When the speaker says, “let us meet some place else,” it’s not a rejection of love, but a call to find it in truth, in fairness, and in freedom.

So the next time you stand before something grand, don’t just look, ask who was forgotten to make it possible. That’s where the real story begins.