Taj DNA: Testing the Purity of Love

Part 1: The Order to Extract DNA

It was morning in Agra. The sun spread over the white walls of the Taj Mahal like cream floating on milk. Crowds of foreign tourists filled the place — some clicking selfies, some shooting reels, and a few arguing over history as if they were lawyers in court.

Amid the chaos, a blue government jeep stopped at the Taj gate. On it was written: “Bharatiya Scientific and Cultural Research Department (BSSRD)” Below it, in small letters: “We search for what’s already been found.”

Three men stepped out:

• Dr. Gangadhar Mishra, a DNA expert who saw “lineage” in everything.
• Mr. Shukla, the department officer whose every sentence began with “Confidential order.
• Champaklal, a journalist who could turn any event into an “exclusive breaking news.

Shukla pulled out a file and declared gravely, “The government has ordered a DNA test of the Taj Mahal.”

Dr. Mishra adjusted his glasses. “DNA? Of the Taj Mahal? So now we’ll trace the family tree of monuments too?”

Shukla replied, “There’s a debate in the country — some claim the Taj Mahal was originally a temple named Tejomahalaya. The ministry decided to let science find the truth.”

Champaklal instantly switched on his camera: “Friends! Today is a historic day — the genes of the Taj will speak!”

Dr. Mishra laughed. “DNA belongs to living beings, not to stones.”

Shukla smiled. “In this country, emotions are alive, Doctor. The stones are just an excuse.”

Just then, a nearby tour guide said, “Sir, if you’re extracting DNA, take one from the Yamuna too — its color changes daily!”

With a commander’s gesture, Shukla ordered, “Seal the entire area!” Flower vendors, pigeons, and lovelorn couples were all sent away. Now only scientists, police, and the media remained.

Dr. Mishra took out a small drill machine. “We’ll collect a micro sample of the marble for DNA sequencing.”

Champaklal asked, “Doctor, what will happen if the Taj Mahal’s DNA is found?”

Dr. Mishra smiled. “Then history books will have to be rewritten... and perhaps the definition of love too.”

But as soon as he touched the wall with the drill, the power went out.

Someone said, “Sir, it’s a sign from the spirit of the Taj!” Another replied, “No, it’s a sign from the electricity department.”

In the confusion, an old janitor walked in. “Sir, don’t tamper with the Taj Mahal — this place speaks.”

Shukla scolded, “Baba, we are men of science. We don’t believe in superstition.”

The old man smiled. “Then remember my words — today, the Taj will speak... but not in your lab, in people’s minds.”

By evening, a small marble sample was taken and sent to the DNA Lab, Delhi. The media screamed headlines:

“The Taj Will Speak — The Truth Revealed Soon!” “Hidden Secrets Inside the Marble?” “DNA Test to Prove the Purity of Love!”

In Delhi, the lab was ready. Dr. Mishra prepared the testing format. “For the first time,” he said, “history and science are about to marry.”

Champaklal grinned. “Just don’t invite politics to the wedding — it always ruins relationships.”

Everyone laughed — yet there was silence beneath the humor. If the DNA truly revealed something... what would happen? Would the Taj Mahal’s identity change? Or would love now need a genetic certificate too?

Part 2: The Test Day — When the Taj Reached the Lab

It was a dusty morning in Delhi. The Parliament Road buzzed as usual, but the National DNA Research Laboratory was unusually tense. Luxury cars lined up. Security was tighter than for an alien specimen — though all they had was a small piece of marble: the Taj Mahal’s DNA sample.

A banner at the entrance read:

“Welcome to the Laboratory of National Pride.”

Inside, Dr. Mishra wore his lab coat. Next to him stood Mr. Shukla with a file labeled: “Taj Mahal DNA Project: Confidential (but media already knows).”

Champaklal, setting his camera, asked, “Doctor, will this stone really talk?”

Dr. Mishra replied, “Everything speaks — if you have the right microscope to listen.”

Shukla warned, “Just make sure the report matches national sentiments.”

Mishra smiled. “If science starts obeying sentiments, we’ll get DNA... with ideology.”

The test began.

The marble was scanned with an ultra micro-laser. The machine made strange sounds: “Tring… trrrr… beep… Om Namah…”

Everyone froze. On the screen flashed the words:

“Detected: traces of human emotion — love, devotion, jealousy, politics.”

Dr. Mishra gasped, “Emotions in stone?” Shukla laughed, “That’s India for you — even stones cry here.”

As the test progressed, the lab floated between satire and miracle.

The machine finally generated a report:

DNA Report (Confidential)

45% traces of Mumtaz Mahal’s memories

30% traces of Shah Jahan’s tears

10% mixture of tourist perfume and selfie radiation

15% political fingerprints (origin undetermined)

Dr. Mishra held his head. “This is emotional biology!”

Shukla replied, “Doctor, frame it carefully — no one should feel offended, but TRP must rise.”

Champaklal announced to his camera, “Breaking news! The Taj Mahal’s DNA reveals tears and love — scientifically proven affection!”

At that moment, a new figure entered — Professor Bakshi, head of the History Department, carrying his book “Vedic Origins of Indian Architecture.”

He said, “Doctor, science is fine, but look at the texture — it’s not 17th-century marble, more like the 12th century. There’s antiquity here.”

Shukla quickly noted, “So the temple theory strengthens?”

Bakshi replied, “Not proof, just interpretation. But yes, it opens new history.”

Mishra smiled. “History can be rewritten many times, but DNA is extracted only once.”

At 9 p.m., the report was complete. But the final line shocked everyone:

“Taj Mahal’s DNA matches with 99.9% of Indian population.”

Silence.

Shukla whispered, “Meaning?” Mishra said, “It means the Taj belongs to everyone — every Indian carries a part of it.”

Champaklal yelled, “Breaking News! The Taj is in our hearts! Every Indian holds a monument within!”

Shukla panicked, “No, don’t say that! Then everyone will claim ownership!”

Mishra smiled softly, “And if that’s the truth? Love never belongs to one person.”

The next morning, the report reached the ministry. The Secretary read it and shouted, “What nonsense is this? ‘The Taj’s DNA matches everyone’? Hide this file!”

Shukla stammered, “But sir, it’s already leaked to the media.”

The Secretary sighed, “Then find a political use for it. Even love can be painted with nationalism.”

By evening, TV debates erupted: 1️⃣ “Does the Taj really belong to everyone?” 2️⃣ “Can DNA change history?” 3️⃣ “What is the national identity of love?”

A new show launched:

“DNA of Love — Hosted by Champaklal!”

That night, Dr. Mishra stared at the stars, report in hand. “If the Taj’s DNA is within us,” he wondered, “have we kept its love alive?”

He whispered, “Maybe we should test human DNA now — not for lineage, but for compassion.”

Part 3: The Clash of Politics and Love

In Delhi’s North Block, a high-level meeting began. On the table lay the report — Taj Mahal DNA Analysis – Confidential. But it was no longer secret; every news channel had it. Every panelist was suddenly a “DNA expert,” and every politician claimed to be the heir of love.

The Secretary opened the meeting: “The issue is serious. People want to know who truly owns the Taj Mahal.”

Shukla replied, “Sir, according to the report — everyone does.”

The Secretary fumed, “That’s the biggest problem! If it belongs to everyone, who gets the votes?”

He thought for a moment and said, “Divide the report in two parts — one scientific, one emotional.”

“Meaning?” asked Shukla.

“Meaning,” the Secretary said, “connect people with emotion, not science. Forget DNA — talk about temple or tomb.”

By afternoon, political statements poured in. One party declared, “The Taj was Tejomahalaya, traces of divinity found in DNA.” Another said, “The DNA shows love — love has no religion.” A third said, “The DNA test was funded by foreign agencies!”

The media turned it into a festival. Champaklal appeared on every channel, shouting, “Friends! The Taj’s DNA isn’t just history — it’s the future! Whoever protects love will win the next election!”

Meanwhile, Dr. Mishra quietly reread the report:

“Taj Mahal’s DNA matches 99.9% with Indian population.” “Genetic trace of love and loss found in marble structure.”

He murmured, “In every Indian heart, there’s a little Shah Jahan and a little Mumtaz — some build monuments, some build walls.”

Soon, an international journal published the story:

“India Finds Genetic Evidence of Love in Architecture.”

The world laughed, “India is now searching for genes in stones!”

The government grew furious. Shukla was summoned. “You’ve ruined the nation’s DNA image!” the Secretary shouted.

Shukla defended himself, “Sir, we just ran a test.”

“Then fix the test with a new explanation,” came the reply.

The next day, Parliament roared. Members yelled across the floor: “The Taj is our cultural proof!” “It’s not just a symbol of love, but of power!” “Let’s DNA-test every monument — Red Fort, Qutub Minar, even Parliament!”

Applause followed. Science, history, and politics — all ready to test each other’s DNA.

That evening, Dr. Mishra received a letter:

“Dear Dr. Mishra, Your report has caused confusion. Please prepare an alternative version.” — Ministry

He smiled. “An alternative report? So now truth has versions too.”

He replied:

“Sir, I can alter DNA, but not its meaning.”

That night, he sat alone, looking at a photo of the Taj Mahal. “Four centuries ago,” he thought, “a man built this for love. Four centuries later, we’re testing that love in a lab.”

He whispered, “Perhaps we don’t want to understand the Taj — we just want to prove ourselves right.”

He sighed, “When science starts serving politics, even the laboratory becomes Parliament.”

The next morning, newspapers carried a new caption under the Taj’s photo:

“Belongs to all, DNA of all, love of none.”

The line spread like wildfire — quoted, sung, printed on T-shirts.

The lab gathered dust. Champaklal launched his new channel Love TV, testing “relationship DNA” every night. Shukla was promoted to head of Department of Cultural Harmony. Only Dr. Mishra still reread the report — for him, it wasn’t science anymore, it was poetry.

Part 4: Love Has No Caste

Winter had settled over Agra. Mist hung by the Yamuna, and the Taj looked like an old dream — half truth, half tale.

The same old boards stood — Selfie Zone, Licensed Guide, Monument Area. But now more commentators came than tourists. Everyone wanted to mold the Taj into their language, faith, or history.

One said, “It’s a mark of our ancestors.” Another said, “It’s a stain on our culture.” A third said, “It should be turned into a hotel.” And a fourth just sat quietly — as if by the grave of an old love.

That evening, Dr. Mishra returned to Agra. In his hands was the same report — the one that divided the nation and turned a monument of love into a table of politics.

Standing before the Taj, he whispered, “How strange — a man once built this for eternal love, and now people fight to define that love.”

A guide asked him, “Sir, what did the report finally say? Whose DNA was it?”

Mishra smiled. “Everyone’s — yours, mine, the Yamuna’s... even those pigeons’.”

The guide blinked. “What do you mean?” Mishra replied, “It means the Taj doesn’t belong to humans — it belongs to humanity. But you won’t find that in any lab report.”

He sat on a bench. The dome shimmered through the fog, like an old poet lost in his own verse.

He took out the last page of the report:

“Genetic presence of love detected — origin unidentified.”

He laughed softly. “See? Even science admits love has no caste or religion. It just exists — like breath, like dreams.”

At that moment, a young couple approached, holding flowers. “Sir, is photography allowed here?” they asked.

“Yes,” Mishra smiled, “but try to capture love — not just poses.”

The boy said, “Sir, we’re leaving a token of our love here.”

Mishra replied, “Don’t leave proof, leave feelings — proofs fade, feelings live.”

The girl said, “Sir, they say the Taj Mahal is old now.”

Mishra smiled, “Old are those where love has died. The Taj still beats — only people have stopped listening.”

Night deepened. The marble gleamed milk-white under the moon. Mishra closed his file, but something opened within him.

“The love in our DNA,” he thought, “is what makes us human. If that’s lost, all that remains is marble — lifeless, silent.”

He murmured, “In every age, someone builds a Taj for love, and someone plots to destroy it. But the Taj’s true strength is — it becomes love again, every time it breaks.”

A cool breeze rose from the Yamuna. The call to prayer echoed from a mosque, a temple bell rang nearby — for a moment, both sounds merged.

Mishra smiled, eyes closed. “Perhaps this is the real DNA of the Taj — where every sound joins to become love.”

Next morning, a small headline appeared in the newspaper:

“Dr. Gangadhar Mishra passes away. His last diary line read: ‘The DNA of love is immortal.’”

People read it, scrolled past, forgot. But somewhere by the Yamuna, a stone still whispers: “The Taj is not mine, not yours — it belongs to every heart that knows how to feel.”

Time passed, governments changed, reports vanished. But whenever a boy and girl hold hands and look at the Taj, they unknowingly connect to that DNA Dr. Mishra once discovered —

Because love’s test never ends; it only changes form — sometimes a dome, sometimes a gaze, sometimes... a smile.