Despite this unflattering record, all that the Taj Mahal-worshippers, the present-day history-denying distortionists can detect is the “sublime,” “poetic,” (insert your preferred adjective here) and eternal love story between Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal. It is one thing to admire the Taj Mahal for its architecture but an entirely different thing to qualify it with such epithets which not only suppresses the truth about this tyrant but heaps untold humiliation upon the memories of the abundant Hindu victims of his multifaceted tyranny.

It’s not the Taj Mahal but the mindset of these distortionists that’s the Eighth Wonder of the world. It’s almost as if these eminences have an incurable carnal lust for despots and imperial debauches like Shah Jahan. The crueller the despot, the greater the lust. Latest case in point: the newly-minted Redeemer of Aurangzeb’s Savagery: Audrey Truschke.

Of the female of this garden-weed species, of the “my body, my womb, my life” Feminist-Bible-thumpers, one only needs to ask this question: would any one among them be willing to take the place of Mumtaz Mahal? She who was betrothed at 13, married at 19 as the fourth wife following which Shah Jahan married more women, bringing the grand total to seven wives apart from the uncountable number of concubines and females he acquired as war booty. She whose incredibly fecund womb bore him fourteen children. She who died after delivering the fourteenth child.

And of the male of the same garden-weed species: would any one of you have the guts to propose to the female of your species softly crooning, “I will be your Shah Jahan, will you be my Mumtaz Mahal?”

The answer to that question will mostly come from a hospital bed.