English
العربية
Not every road leads to a place… some roads lead you back to yourself.
It stretches quietly toward the mountain, as if it knows what we do not, carrying in its silence stories left untold.
In the heart of a traditional covered market, a vintage red scooter stands at the center, as if bearing witness to tales of time. Soft lights reflect on the wet floor, casting a magical glow on the hanging garments and bustling shops.
