Visiting the National Museum of Iran, I thought I was just going to "see some old things."
But what I saw in the Achaemenid section — I still think about it days later.
There’s a large, headless human statue.
The details on the body are still there — the folds in the robe, the lines of the arms and shoulders, the posture of someone in command.
But the head is missing.
At first I thought it was just “damaged.”
But standing in front of it, something shifted.
I stared at it for over 15 minutes without realizing.
It wasn’t just stone anymore. It felt like a presence.
It felt like I was looking at someone who once lived — maybe someone who watched over this land.
It felt like I was being watched back.
Then I moved toward the giant bull-headed capitals, known as double-headed column tops.
These came from Persepolis, the ceremonial capital of the Achaemenid Empire.
Each one is massive. You can’t help but look up.
The heads of the bulls are symmetrical, calm, powerful — made to support the wooden beams of royal halls.
These weren’t just architectural features.
They were symbols of strength, protection, endurance.
There are fragments of reliefs, too.
Wings. Drapery. Feet.
All broken, yet still detailed.
Even in pieces, they hold a certain precision — like the sculptors carved them with a sense of eternity.
I realized something:
This wasn't just a collection of artifacts.
It was a gathering of what’s left of a great civilization.
And somehow, being there made me feel like I was part of it.
