It’s spring time in Tehran–Apple trees in the gardens have blossomed, while baby Narges flowers grow near streams, intoxicating paired lovers on a stroll through the park. On the 13th day of spring the parks are filled with families, all interacting and interwoven to form a massive extended family. Women sit together as sisters, tieing knotts together in the grass. With every knott tied a prayer for health and happiness is blessed for their children in the coming new year. Children run to the streams releasing their goldfish, atleast those that have survived the 13 day exile on the “haft-sin”. Yes, Tehran laughs and giggles in the wake of spring.
It’s spring time in Esfahan–Walking across a Life Giving River, the Zayande Rud, a bridge transports me back in time. To a place where merchants and travellers bargain, to a place where kings and queens used to dine. The ancient breeze of the poetic river awakens and beakons, breathing into the world a sense of tradition. The river currents ripple the mirror-esque surface and my face, through nostalgic stained stone archways. The 33 arched bridge (seyo-se pol) and the many other aging bridges sit on the water as if they were always there from the begining of the river’s birth. I witness a celebration of water and bridges.
Happy New Years!
Love,
Fared Shafinury