---

When the voice on the other end of the line said, “We would like to build a mall for women,” I said yes, not because I found the idea interesting; I was lured by the location and asked to see it. We flew from Istanbul to Bagdad and from there we traveled to Karbala. Bagdad was dark and dusty with the near and distant remains of its architectural history. I had experienced similar sentiments in Beirut and Nicosia as well, but the level of pain here was far too high. The Bagdad-Karbala motorway perpetuated the feeling. There was very little to think of. I tried to suppress my inner voice asking what I was doing there and tried to focus on the subject… I had often wondered what Karbala would look like and I found that it had more to offer than I had envisaged. It was pilgrimage season for Shiites; traveling from all corners of the world, the pilgrims were ceremonially expressing the pain of Karbala and were epitomizing the grief and suffering that began in Bagdad. Contrasting sharply against the darkness of the night and the pitch-black attires of the pilgrims was the penetrating sunlight, the yellow desert sand, and lights reflected from thousands of mirror fragments inside the tombs.

I tried to get my head out of the mesmerizing atmosphere and remind myself of the subject. I had no choice but to take the job in order to visit this place again. We did and we set the lace-covered mass in yellow sand color in the middle of the desert. It was not much different from its counterparts in terms of design. Therefore, after some careful planning, we focused all our attention on form. Here, the function of form was of utmost importance. Shortly after construction began, they severed their ties with us with a surprising excuse We have no idea if the project was ever executed, completed, or put to use.