Tajikistan and me

Vestibulum commodo volutpat laoreet
May 8, 2014

Tajikistan, for a large portion of my life, was nothing but a name. But Farhad, whom I met in prison, changed everything. Soon after, I mourned over having lost a part of my home, renamed to be called Tajikistan.

Ozar’s father was not the first to lead me to learn about Tajikistan and her position in Shahnameh, which is the Iranian version of what Homer has done for Greece.
 
The old flickering candle in the wind acted as a burning torch in the darkness of the cave that I was in.
 
He offered me the ownership of his researches and writings, published and not. And I am sorry for me not to have been lucky enough to take care of them all. But I promise to cherish the ones that I have.
 
I consider my one year in Tajikistan as one the richest parts of my life, filled with learning, research, studies, joy, pleasure, and of course, miseries and failures.

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