Qala Iktyaruddin Citadel Herat Afghanistan
“Where there is ruin, there is hope for a treasure.” - Rumi
People have dwelt around this citadel in baking summers and freezing winters for more than 2,500 years. Rising and failing empires have battled for it amid slaughter, despair and renaissance.
Looking at the crumbling ruin of the 15th century fort and the little shops selling the simplest essentials of life I closed my eyes and imagined. Imagined the same spot 2,300 years ago as Alexanders army took the city. Did he walk the citadel in front of me? What did he see?
There would have been traders of all sorts in his time much like when I took this picture. Pots, bowls, linen, peas, but no bicycles.
And it has been the capital of the Persian empire. This crumbling ruin was then the heart of a world, its ramparts gleaming sheathed in the finest Persian mosaic tiles of the richest colours. A place of prosperity and wealth.
Enduring places of dwelling like this with their memories and fragments of past aspirations force perspective on our current lives, throwing our self-importance into context.
People have dwelt around this citadel in baking summers and freezing winters for more than 2,500 years. Rising and failing empires have battled for it amid slaughter, despair and renaissance.
Looking at the crumbling ruin of the 15th century fort and the little shops selling the simplest essentials of life I closed my eyes and imagined. Imagined the same spot 2,300 years ago as Alexanders army took the city. Did he walk the citadel in front of me? What did he see?
There would have been traders of all sorts in his time much like when I took this picture. Pots, bowls, linen, peas, but no bicycles.
And it has been the capital of the Persian empire. This crumbling ruin was then the heart of a world, its ramparts gleaming sheathed in the finest Persian mosaic tiles of the richest colours. A place of prosperity and wealth.
Enduring places of dwelling like this with their memories and fragments of past aspirations force perspective on our current lives, throwing our self-importance into context.
Ref:
Afghanistan
Date:
Location:
Photographer:
Qala Iktyaruddin Citadel Herat Afghanistan
“Where there is ruin, there is hope for a treasure.” - Rumi
People have dwelt around this citadel in baking summers and freezing winters for more than 2,500 years. Rising and failing empires have battled for it amid slaughter, despair and renaissance.
Looking at the crumbling ruin of the 15th century fort and the little shops selling the simplest essentials of life I closed my eyes and imagined. Imagined the same spot 2,300 years ago as Alexanders army took the city. Did he walk the citadel in front of me? What did he see?
There would have been traders of all sorts in his time much like when I took this picture. Pots, bowls, linen, peas, but no bicycles.
And it has been the capital of the Persian empire. This crumbling ruin was then the heart of a world, its ramparts gleaming sheathed in the finest Persian mosaic tiles of the richest colours. A place of prosperity and wealth.
Enduring places of dwelling like this with their memories and fragments of past aspirations force perspective on our current lives, throwing our self-importance into context.
People have dwelt around this citadel in baking summers and freezing winters for more than 2,500 years. Rising and failing empires have battled for it amid slaughter, despair and renaissance.
Looking at the crumbling ruin of the 15th century fort and the little shops selling the simplest essentials of life I closed my eyes and imagined. Imagined the same spot 2,300 years ago as Alexanders army took the city. Did he walk the citadel in front of me? What did he see?
There would have been traders of all sorts in his time much like when I took this picture. Pots, bowls, linen, peas, but no bicycles.
And it has been the capital of the Persian empire. This crumbling ruin was then the heart of a world, its ramparts gleaming sheathed in the finest Persian mosaic tiles of the richest colours. A place of prosperity and wealth.
Enduring places of dwelling like this with their memories and fragments of past aspirations force perspective on our current lives, throwing our self-importance into context.
Ref:
Afghanistan
Date:
Location:
Photographer:
THOUGHT
Qala Iktyaruddin Citadel Herat Afghanistan
“Where there is ruin, there is hope for a treasure.” - Rumi
People have dwelt around this citadel in baking summers and freezing winters for more than 2,500 years. Rising and failing empires have battled for it amid slaughter, despair and renaissance.
Looking at the crumbling ruin of the 15th century fort and the little shops selling the simplest essentials of life I closed my eyes and imagined. Imagined the same spot 2,300 years ago as Alexanders army took the city. Did he walk the citadel in front of me? What did he see?
There would have been traders of all sorts in his time much like when I took this picture. Pots, bowls, linen, peas, but no bicycles.
And it has been the capital of the Persian empire. This crumbling ruin was then the heart of a world, its ramparts gleaming sheathed in the finest Persian mosaic tiles of the richest colours. A place of prosperity and wealth.
Enduring places of dwelling like this with their memories and fragments of past aspirations force perspective on our current lives, throwing our self-importance into context.
People have dwelt around this citadel in baking summers and freezing winters for more than 2,500 years. Rising and failing empires have battled for it amid slaughter, despair and renaissance.
Looking at the crumbling ruin of the 15th century fort and the little shops selling the simplest essentials of life I closed my eyes and imagined. Imagined the same spot 2,300 years ago as Alexanders army took the city. Did he walk the citadel in front of me? What did he see?
There would have been traders of all sorts in his time much like when I took this picture. Pots, bowls, linen, peas, but no bicycles.
And it has been the capital of the Persian empire. This crumbling ruin was then the heart of a world, its ramparts gleaming sheathed in the finest Persian mosaic tiles of the richest colours. A place of prosperity and wealth.
Enduring places of dwelling like this with their memories and fragments of past aspirations force perspective on our current lives, throwing our self-importance into context.
