It's time to leave from Dushanbe to Fann Mountains, the last cup of kvass is being drunk in a ‘chaikhona’ in the north of the city. Grandfather comes down from the second floor, he can walk so hardly. A cup of kvass no longer interests me. The grandfather is barely walking, it seems he will soon fall apart. In every movement he and his stick are perfect. When half of the teahouse is passed, photo idea comes. I take out an empty camera and take one picture. Here is in the front of you.
A stern adult look against the traditional Tajik patterns, acceptint the truth and a smooth, confident movement. Even shade from the sun and tables ready to feast. This is the portrait of Tajikistan.
