Usually when I finish visiting a city before my schedule probably I should kill couple of houres somewhere quiet and just chill out. This time Kerman brang me to a small square that they call it "Moshtaq", people don't care if they prefer the name "Shohada". Despite all these I don't know why there is a statue of a lady with a bouquet in her hands.
I'm not alone here, I'm sorrounded by aged people who come together every morning and kill last houres, days and if they get lucky, years.
I'm thinking what comes to me in my life. Actually the reason I took this trip was to free my mind from quotidian and figure out where exactly I'm going to be in next decade of my life. But believe me, I hate facing it.
They say you should make your own future so when you get old and look behind just feel good about what you've done. Imagine me someday, somewhere, with bunch of old ugly guys sitting on a bench in a park and killing last houres, days and if we get lucky, years. Proud to or regret what I've done and all is about "memories".
Couple of days ago, just before coming to Kerman, I was on my way from Shiraz to Perspolis by a shared taxi. In a sudden an idea came to my head, "Why don't go visit Maharlu lake this afternoon and spend the sunset over there?" But did I have enough time to make it? I asked the guy next to me in the taxi: "How far is the lake?" He answered and moved me: "I had a crash last year, I don't remember anything like that."