On the tomb of a stranger like me there is neither a lamp nor flowers. Since it is deserted, therefore there was no sound of nightingale or the Parvana (a small insect which burns its feathers on the flame of the lamp for the love of it).
It is unfortunate that her tomb was situated in a city which was along the route from Central Asia to India used by traders and invaders. After the Mughal Empire declined, the Sikhs also took advantage of the situation.
Her tomb was deprived of its outer covering of stones.Even the graves of her and daughter were ransacked. They thought they might find ornaments and other precious jewellery from the coffins. When they did not find any such articles they threw the bones away. And the Mausoleum became the abode of cows and goats.
The city Lahore....she adored and may be thats why she decided to have her own mausoleum there.
I gave my life and bought Lahore of equal value. In fact I bought another paradise in lieu of my life.
She, who possessed exquisite beauty, a fine taste for Persian literature, poetry and arts, a piercing intellect, a versatile temper, and sound common sense.
She exerted strong influence on the career and reign of her husband (Jahangir).
Even than she couldn't save herself from insult and disloyalty of her fellow people. She was intelligent enough to predict but couldn't predict her future after death. Even though from her prose on her tomb might someway make a point that she knew somewhere in her heart that it would happen buut couldn't get the exact time.
Because she was not the GOD here.....only HE can decide whether people would respect us even after our death or neglect us.
Sometimes I feel so so helpless and hand tied. I cant even decide my own birth my own death? It seems that since our first breath we are in the TOMB OF STRANGER. Where nothing belong to us and we dont belong there.
(Ohh....I had talked about Noor Jahan wife of Noor-ud-Din Jahangir, the third Mughal ruler).