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48 hours in Esfahan, Iran
Kanishka Lahiri and Ranjita Bhagwan
“Esfahan nesf-e-Jahan”. “Esfahan is half the world”, or so the saying goes. Labeled bythe guidebooks as the finest city in all of Iran, and a jewel of the Islamic world, we hadarrived in Esfahan with high expectations. At the end of day one, Esfahan did notdisappoint. It was perhaps the most memorable day of a fortnight in Iran.We started with a solid breakfast (consisting of lavaash bread, cheese, sour cherry jam, aswell as scrambled eggs and cereal) at the Suite Hotel in preparation for a long day of trekking around the old city. Soon after crossing the Se-o-seh, one of Esfahan’s manyfootbridges, we headed away from the noise of Chahar Bagh and walked through the 16
th
 century Beheshti Palace and its manicured garden, one of Esfahan’s more notable sights.We ambled along feeling gladder by the moment as the sun began to break through theclouds and create what would turn a gloomy drizzly morning into a dazzling, but chillyday.Our route brought us back to the noisy thoroughfare of modern Esfahan, from where wequickly ducked into a by lane near Takhti Junction. With a little help from some locals,we made our way through narrow alleys reminiscent of Yazd, the desert city from whichwe had arrived the previous night, to the Hakim Mosque, the oldest mosque in Esfahan.The entrance dates to the 11
th
century, while the rest of it was rebuilt in the 16
th
. After a
 
few false starts, we were walkingthrough the captivating Bazar-e-Bozorgh. Here we peeped into aMadrassa (the Madraseh-Nimurvand), with its typicalpeaceful setting, and thencontinued in search of the path toJameh Mosque, the main agendaitem for the morning.Snaking through the vaulted pathof the traditional bazaar, we raninto a large crowd standing aroundsipping hot tea from little glasses,which was being made in huge kettles on the side. The first thing we did was to check forpresence of women. That was an affirmative, and before we had time to ask for a cup, acouple of friendly looking avuncular types offered us cups of delicious saffron-flavoredtea, with beet sugar cubes, and a crunchy sweet accompaniment. We accepted withouthesitation, and sipped the tea, listening enthralled to a loudspeaker over which a religioussermon was being given with a deep passion – a voice that often broke into tears,accompanied by appreciative murmurs from the crowd. I tried asking how much the teawas for. At this one of the gentlemen raised his hands upwards and indicated this wasfrom Allah, and there was no question of paying. Unfortunately, we were not allowed topass through the gathering, so we had to find a different route to the mosque, which wewere able to do quite comfortably.Jameh Mosque is HUGE. It is the largest mosque in Iran. This was the first of jaw-dropping Islamic architecture that we would see today. We were too late to catch theguided tours, so we satisfied ourselves roaming around the courtyard, gaping at theenormous Iwans (gates) on the four sides. Two girls were sitting near the pool sketchingthe interior with utmost concentration. Others were praying. The courtyard was decoratedwith dozens of colorful garlanded memorials (or so they seemed). Today was the first dayof Haj, so we put two and two together. A hundred or so pigeons would sit in one place,and then periodically fly around the courtyard and then settle in the same corner. We satin the courtyard for a while, taking in the size and intricacy of the mosque, and thenheaded out back to the street. Before hitting the street, we were accosted by a friendlycarpet salesman who took us into his shop, gave us tea, and showed us beautiful carpetsmade by nomadic people from far flung places like the Caspian Sea area, Bakhtiyar,Azerbaijan. A particularly attractive one was a medium-sized red pure silk, for only$4500. We headed to the square, where Ranjita bought some dry fruits from an avuncularguy who smattered her with lots of friendly farsi. We quickly ducked into the bazaar for ashort colorful stretch (stopping once to buy some dry pomegranate for a future barberryrice dish) before reaching Imam Square.
 
 Before we could take in the grandeur of the square, we started chatting with a friendlyguy, Behrooz, who then took us (carrying an edition of the Lonely Planet in hand is adead giveaway) to his workshop on miniature art. He proudly showed us pictures of hisdad and uncle who had been featured in current and earlier editions of our book and gaveus a sincere overview of the art in his shop. A lot of the stuff was truly exquisite, and weended up buying a miniature on a camel bone piece (he promised that the camel was notkilled for its bone). He then showed us to the Quesariya Tea Shop, which has a terrificview of Imam Square looking south. We were sitting sipping our teas, admiring thesplendor of the square, when an Indian couple from Mumbai (originally from Bangalore) joined us. We chatted with them for almost 30-45 minutes, sharing experiences of hijab,the friendliness of the Iranian people, and the beauty of the country.
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