Just about a few months ago I went on the most photogenic trip of my life. Yazd had me mesmerized in all sorts of ways. From the crumbling doors and mud-brick buildings to the food and the city’s remarkable architecture.
Wandering in Yazd you’d quickly realize that here instead of skyscrapers it’s the wind catchers (Badgir) and minarets that reach for the sky.
See the wind catcher on the left? Climb on a rooftop and you’d marvel a sky painted with them…
Authenticity and heritage dissipates in the old district, one that quickly disappears as soon as you find your way to the banal modern main streets.
Yazd boasts Iranian culture in every corner. Even the door knobs of the decayed wooden doors have a story to tell. One with a thicker noise for the men and another with a much delicate sound for the women to knock. Letting the host to acknowledge who’s behind the door and perhaps for the women to cover up if they’re to encounter the men. This just shows how modest and private the culture of this part of Iran is. One that Yazd seems to be holding on tightly while everywhere else is quickly letting go.
Left door knocker for the men, the right rounded one for the women. They might not seem so different but they make a perfectly different sound.
Then there was the people. The men who were more than eager to pose for my camera and the women passing by who giggled when they noticed they’ve just become the subject of my next shot.
The shop owner proudly posing with his great possession of Termeh fabrics. Ones that their most exquisite kind is to be found in Yazd.
Yazd is a photographers dream. One that you’ll get to cheat in with just fitting sublimity in a frame and pressing that camera button one too many times.
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