The poem,gives us a sad feeling, as it stands as a reminiscence of the beautiful gone by days, of the royal aura. But now 300 hundred years after the royal couple left, the hustle-bustle of life, the madness for money, for power and among all other worldly woes and worries, the royal tomb, earth's another moon, the Taj-mahal lays forgotten. The rivers around it have gone filthy, polluted, still, who's there to care? The crown of India, our Taj is suffering, but we, the people can't even spare a few minutes from our life, to respond to its cries, and the Taj goes on suffering. The filthy bulls surround it, flies buzz, still everyone, even the tourists ignore. The Taj stands as a symbol of eternal love between Sahjahan and Mumtaz, till date showers us with its magical beauty and wonderful love, but do we return it? No we don't...and the Taj silently woes its wound of unrequited love. All we do, is to add more pain to that wound of unreturned love.