Fifth Journey Day 96: Laughter Through Varnish

Date: August 12, 2025
Location: Isfahan, Iran

I didn't want to do too much today. The city felt very big when I first got there. It felt like I would be able to see everything if I took my time. I chose Chehel Sotoun — not because I had a plan, but because the name came to me as if it were something I remembered half-way.

The pavilion sat in its garden. It was quiet and dignified. The trees outside were still. Their long shadows were resting on the gravel. Inside, the air felt cooler and softer, even though the sun shone through the open archways. I took off my shoes and stood for a while, letting the marble floor cool my feet. A caretaker walked past without looking at me. His sandals made soft noises as he walked, as if he didn't want to bother the walls.

I sat under one of the painted ceilings, my neck slightly tilted, and I looked closely at the faded colors that told stories I didn't know. There was a battle, a feast, and a procession. The procession had many small gestures that I couldn't quite understand, but I didn't need to. The ceiling was full of figures, but it still felt open. My thoughts began to relax.

At one point, a young boy hurried through the hall. His footsteps were too loud, and he was too excited. His grandmother called out to him, laughing. Their presence was like sunlight catching the edge of a brass bowl — brief, warm, and a little unsteady. It stayed with me.

I didn't take any notes. I just watched it. Let the shiny reflections on the water mirror change, move, and blur — then go back to how they were before.

When I got back to the guesthouse, I drank a little glass of cold doogh with mint. It was sour, salty, and oddly satisfying. I didn't talk much with anyone. But I didn't feel alone either.

I feel the weight of the ceiling on my chest. I don't fully understand it. But I think that's fine.