There is a monochronic virtue to the Taj Mahal,  which I first saw here at end of day from across the river, its towers tilted out just enough to ensure their fall and so  imperil the central dome, its ancillary underpinning arches.

 While the photograph reduces it a poor 2-D reproduction,  in reality it  so beautiful I cried when I saw it.  It is not just the aesthetic but the contrast with the poverty of Agra that surrounds it.

Now I hope the sky has cleared,  and might even be blue, and consequentially all that white marble so much whiter, and the people camped out have cleaner air to live in. Taj Mahal, who would not love you?