18. April 2025
I take off my heavy motorcycle helmet and place it on my iron competitor—my husband’s bike. We’re somewhere on the outskirts of Tehran. Around us stretch yellow-burgundy hills and dry, parched earth. In the distance, young trees have just been planted, their delicate green a quiet contrast to the dust.
The motorcycle broke down right at the top of the hill. I step aside and wait calmly while my beloved husband tries to fix the problem, carefully inspecting the source of the breakdown.
15. April 2025
The grandfather's story began not far from the city of Tabriz, in Shabestar — at the crossroads of the Great Silk Road, near the salty shores of Lake Urmia. It was there that Mir Ismail was born.
His childhood unfolded among orchards and mountain valleys. Youth thundered in soon after, and before long, the song of young manhood began to play.
10. April 2025
Not far from here stood a true feat of engineering, designed by the Italian engineer Cesare Delleani. Under his guidance, the tallest bridge of its time was built. An imposing structure stretching between two towering cliffs just outside the village. We turned off the main highway and drove straight toward it.
03. April 2025
I sat at the table, smiling politely, while everyone else chatted animatedly. In front of me was a plate, accompanied by a fork and a spoon. A spoon instead of a knife? The thought flitted through my mind. Resolving to use only the fork, I unwittingly drew even more attention to myself. The food, for its part, refused to reveal any of its flavours and seemed to halt halfway down to my stomach. The day stretched on endlessly, and I silently wondered if it would ever come to an end.