Iran woes
Iran woes Iran, Seen from Dubai Creek Denzil Jayasinghe 4 min read · Just now W hen Iran flashes across the news now, many people see only maps, missiles and red arrows. I still see water. I see Dubai Creek in the 1970s, quiet and bright, its wooden dhows crewed by Iranian sailors long before the city learnt to touch the clouds. Back then Dubai was a modest town, leaning towards the Gulf like a schoolboy at a fence, curious about the world beyond. Across that band of glittering sea lay Bandar Abbas, close enough, it seemed to me, that a stubborn man with a strong back and a sack of dates could row there if he started at dawn. Dubai, in those days, wore a gentle Persian fragrance. Many of the abra boatmen were Iranians: lungi‑wearing men with weathered faces who guided the little ferries across the creek as if time, like water, could be crossed without hurry. In the markets, traders with Iranian roots sold American jeans and boots, saffron, dried limes and cassette tapes. They lived bet...