It’s exactly 23 years back. 1998. February 11. 3:12 am. “In a few moments, we will land in Mehrabad International Airport,” an IranAir flight attendant in navy blue hijab assured with a smile the drowsy passengers to a seven-hour flight from Kuala Lumpur to Tehran. A score of fellow students from Mindanao and I were fetched by a minibus at the airport and transported to Qazvin, a city over 100 kilometers away. After taking a sumptuous breakfast in Karaj in
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Archives for Travel
If Only I Could…
If there were any immovable object that I have taken picture of the most number of times within that week, it was no other than the statue of a man on the clock, displayed on the wall of the Intercontinental Hotel where we were billeted for seven days. The man is either trying to stop the movement of the clock’s hand, or putting it back. Either way, the message is the same: “If only I could turn back time…” I
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