by Navid Ganji
The morning sun rises over the vast desert, casting a golden glow on the adobe walls of Arg-e Bam. Today, I return to this ancient marvel, determined to see it through a new lens—one that goes beyond its towering fortifications and crumbling walls. If yesterday was about understanding its architecture and resilience, today is about feeling its soul.
Walking Through the Ghosts of the Past
As I step onto the dusty pathways leading into the heart of the fortress, a strange sensation takes over—a feeling of being watched by history itself. These ruins are more than remnants of the past; they are stories frozen in time, waiting to be heard.
I let my feet guide me to places I had only briefly seen before:
- The remnants of the bazaar, where traders once bartered silk, spices, and Persian carpets. I can almost hear the lively chatter and the scent of saffron lingering in the air.
- The old hammam (bathhouse), its walls still bearing faint traces of intricate plasterwork, whispering secrets of long-forgotten luxury.
- A quiet courtyard, where a solitary tree stands defiantly in the desert heat, much like Bam itself—a city that refuses to be erased by time.
As I sit on a fallen piece of ancient masonry, I close my eyes and imagine the fortress in its prime—the streets alive with people, the watchtowers manned by vigilant guards, the governor’s halls echoing with the weight of decisions that shaped history.
The Silent Majesty of the Governor’s House
My steps lead me once again to the Governor’s House, perched at the highest point of the citadel. Yesterday, I admired the strategic brilliance of its design; today, I notice something else—its solitude.
Here, where rulers once governed, feasted, and waged wars, I find an overwhelming stillness. Standing at the edge of the ancient balcony, I look out over the vast ruins of Arg-e Bam, imagining the view as it was centuries ago: a thriving city, the desert alive with travelers and merchants, caravans moving in and out of its towering gates.
The beauty of Arg-e Bam is not just in what remains, but in what the mind can reconstruct.
The Art of Survival: Engineering and Sustainability
One cannot leave Arg-e Bam without marveling at the ingenious engineering that made life possible in this harsh desert climate.
🔹 The Qanat System: Beneath my feet, an ancient network of qanats (underground water channels) still exists, a testament to Persian innovation in water management. Without this, the fortress—and the city—could never have survived.
🔹 Mud-Brick Construction: Every wall, every house, every fortress tower was built from sun-dried bricks, designed to absorb heat during the day and release it at night, making the structures naturally climate-controlled.
🔹 Wind Towers: Though largely ruined now, some traces of wind catchers (badgirs) remain, a natural air-conditioning system that once cooled the grand residences of the fortress.
In a world obsessed with sustainability, the architecture of Arg-e Bam offers lessons that are still relevant today.
Reflections at Twilight
As the evening call to prayer drifts over the ruins, I sit atop a fallen battlement, gazing at the endless desert. The sun sets behind the fortress, casting long shadows that make it seem alive once more.
Arg-e Bam is not just an archaeological site—it is a poem written in mud and time. It has seen dynasties rise and fall, merchants prosper and vanish, travelers come and go. And yet, it stands. Even after earthquakes and centuries of neglect, it refuses to fade into oblivion.
Tonight, as I leave this ancient city behind, I carry with me something more than memories—I carry a piece of Bam’s indomitable spirit.
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Have you ever walked through the ruins of Arg-e Bam? What thoughts and emotions did it stir in you? Share your travel experiences with me!
