This morning an old man stepped into my office, his jacket sagging, a faded muffler loose around his neck. His wooden tulsi beads had deepened in colour with age. He studied me, then joined his palms with a shy, familiar smile.
Echoes of Abadan: When Iran Was a Haven for Sevagram’s Healers
The images flashing across our screens over the last three days are grim. The skies over the Middle East are streaked with the exhaust of ballistic missiles. The geopolitical chess match between the USA, Israel, and Iran has escalated into intense bombardment, leaving cities damaged, civilians terrified, and world peace hanging by a dangerously frayed … Read the essay