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The Journey

Tale 5 - Pakistan/Iran/Turkey - by Malik

Yazd, 25th April 1997
I left Kerman on the night bus. It had reclining seats. The desert was continuing and there would be nothing much to see. By the early hours, the bus reached Yazd, 337 miles away in approximately 7 hours.

Yazd turned out to be a medium sized town. It had many historical buildings like Alexander Prison, large wind-bells and wall paintings. There was a high tower. Narrow and dark stairs led to the top. I went up resting in between to catch my breath. Once there, I was spellbound by the magnificent view of the town and its suburbs. The new houses were built on old designs discarding European styles. Villages followed a rectangular pattern with high mud walls and flat roofed. I saw a lot of greenery all around. Among sand dunes, there were trees and bushes like tamarisk, poplar, date palm, acacia and willow.

I met many foreign tourists mostly from France. As per their advice, I decided to go by train to Esfahan hardly at a distance of 285 km.

Train Journey
The train passed through Desh-e Kavir, which mingles with Dasht-e Lut described earlier. US forces had landed in Kavir Desert in 1980 in an abortive mission to rescue hostages held at the American Embassy in Tehran. Kavir was a rainless region and barren except for some oases irrigated by qanats (canals).

Esfahan, 28th April 1997
I reached Esfahan in the afternoon. It was not as hot as Yazd but rather pleasant. I was out of the desert and into greener pasture. Esfahan was a one time capital of Persia and designated by UNESCO as a World Heritage site. The famous rhyme Esfahan nesf-é jahan (Esfahan is half the world) was coined in the 16th century to express the city grandeur.

In the evening I had a walk. The most remarkable feature was a big square, roughly seven times larger than San Marco in Venice. Besides, Emam Mosque looked majestic with cool blue tiles. Within walking distance, I found more mosques, palaces, bridges and gardens. It was a city for getting lost in the bazaar and dozing in beautiful gardens.

Esfhan was a city for getting lost in the bazaar!



At night I went to a traditional restaurant. There were singers, both professional and amateur. Though I did not understand a word of Farsi, I was bewitched when listening to poems in the local dialect.

Esfahan was also famous for its carpets. There was a bazaar having carpets of various colours: the scarlet, green and yellow Kashan, the red-blood and black Turkoman. A shopkeeper, Agha Mossadegh, recalled the past: "At one time, I had three hundred children making carpets with their delicate fingers. Now, child labour is banned. Adults are no match. Carpets are not as fancy as they used to be".

Air Safari
By moving around, I found out that airfares were very low. The catch was that you had to book far in advance. A footloose and fancy free traveller like me could not afford advance booking. Still when an opportunity came, I jumped on it. An airline agent of Kish Air offered me a ready seat on its 44-seater plane to my next destination, Qom. Flying at medium altitude, I get an exceptionally attractive view of Iran territory. I saw the colours of the desert and the striking profile of mountain ranges.

Qom, 1st May 1997
Hardly 125 miles away, reaching Qom was just a hop-on, hop-off affair. Qom was a holy city of Shi'ite Muslims on the River. There were many religious schools dedicated to teaching of Islam. A large number of students had come to Qom from all corners of Iran (It takes at least 20-30 years to master the Quran and Hadith to become an Ayatollah). Qom was the centre of the movement against Shah Muhammad Reza Pahlavi that ended up with the toppling of his regime in 1979.

My feet were aching and legs quaking. I dived into a restaurant. The waiter greeted me by saying, "Chelo kebab?" He then said, "do you want anything else such as chicken rice?". "Chelo kebab would be ok", I replied. "Kheili khub!" the waiter said happily (meaning-very good!).

He went away and returned with a number of plates containing raw onion, yoghurt, white rice and butter. Finally he brought a plate of kebab, about nine inches of grilled meat, pulled off the skewer but still sticking together. That was delicious indeed!

Hafeez ur Rahman Malik, Karachi-Pakistan.

Submitted:
20 December 2002

Next: Tale 6 - Pakistan/Iran/Turkey


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