This weekend I was in Gharm, 200 km east of Dushanbe along a river valley in a gorge carved from soft rock, to watch buzkashi. Buzkashi, of course, is the crazy Tajik game where a goat carcass stuffed full with sand is the “ball” and 50 to 100 mounted riders battle to pick up the goat and then throw it into the “goal”, in this case, a tire. Obviously.
Anyway, lots and lots of pictures and anecdotes to share about the trip, but that’s for later. For now, take a gander at this:
Putting aside for a moment that this small SUV that I saw on the road to Gharm is not a Toyota Rav4, thus making the tire cover incongruous, look at the text on the thing. It is a small wonder of language. An amazing assemblage of words that when strung together is on the wrong side of coherent.
It’s an outdoor sport that has recently started to shine. Outdoor sport is the science to raise spirits.
To choose sports for fashion or your personality. The basic idea is to enjoy yourself. That is important.
At some point, when I’m less tired, I think I’d like to do a textual analysis of this poem. For let’s be honest, this is practically (but for the syllable count) a haiku in its simplicity, mystery, and inscrutibility. And it’s on a tire cover!
I only had the pleasure of seeing this due to a mudslide that blocked the road, forcing us to wait while people kicked dirt aside with their boots to clear the way. That, friends, is serendipity.