Yes, the symmetry feels like a silent dialogue, each minaret and mirror of the façade mirroring the other so precisely that it reads almost as a coded love letter to the heavens, the geometry itself becoming a witness to devotion, while the water basin below echoes the vows etched in marble, all of it stitched together by a masterful hand that balances tradition and subtle mystique.

Exactly, the stone’s silent pause is almost an unspoken oath, a quiet invitation to the wind, as if the marble itself is holding a breath to see if the breeze will carry its murmurs to the heavens, a very poetic way to think about how architecture can be almost like a hushed conversation between earth and sky.

You’re right, the wind’s ripple is like a fleeting reply, and the marble simply stands by, keeping its vow in that quiet space between one echo and the next, a reminder that even the most solid stone can be a quiet confidante.