In the distance, the red roofs of old houses blended seamlessly with the mountain slopes of Iran’s Mazandaran province. Nestled among the cold, rugged peaks lay the small village of Veresk. A single railway station stood at its centre, bisecting the settlement with a narrow strip of metal rail track.
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.
I tilted my head back, eyes looking at the contours of the impressive bridge. A cold wind slipped beneath my warm coat, and I instantly longed back in the car. The sun made a futile attempt to warm the snow-covered stone walls encircling us. A sense of unease crept in. Nearby, a sign, where in bold red on white read: "Caution, Dangerous!"
My ears rang like wind-tugged strings — it was the mountain river singing. Its current carved a silver path through the stones, and in that cool, restless water, ducks drifted peacefully, undisturbed by the flow.
On the opposite bank, as if shaped by time itself, stood a gray-haired grandfather. His wide "shalvary" pants fluttered gently in the breeze, and his jacket — worn thin and yellowed with age — seemed less like clothing and more like memory, draped over him like a ghost of the past.
By the way, the word "sharovary" — beloved by Ukrainian Cossacks pants — actually traces its roots back to Iranian languages. And that’s just the beginning of our shared history, woven together like the threads of an embroidered towel.
“Then why the jacket?” you might ask.
Because in the 1930s, this very piece of the modern suit was imposed on Iranian men — a symbol of enforced modernity. The government wanted everyone Iranian man to look a little more “fashion.”
“My grandfather built this bridge,” my husband called out, squinting into the sun, shielding his eyes with his palm and lifting a finger toward the sky. “And right here — he almost died once.”
He was saved by chance… or maybe fate.
Get in the car — I’ve got a story to tell you.
Write a comment