A Human Being or a Brick?

An important story about choosing between a human being and a brick. Agha Bozorg had an old black Cadillac he loved. He cleaned it in the courtyard almost twice a week. Everything about it was as spotless and untouched as the day he got it, except for a small dent and patch of missing paint on the hood. One day I asked out of curiosity, “If you love this car so much, why don’t you fix that spot?” “So I remember to notice the people around me instead of focusing on the brick.” “What happened?” “I’d only had the car a few days. One evening I was driving slowly home from your uncle’s shop through one of the neighborhood alleys when a brick suddenly hit the car. I got out and saw a little boy standing in front of it with another brick in his hand. “I started shouting at him. Why had he done that? What was wrong with him? “He had tears in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, sir.’ He pointed a little farther down the street. ‘My grandmother fell out of her wheelchair, and I’m not strong enough to lift her. I shouted for help, but nobody came. I had to throw a brick. I thought maybe someone would stop. I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of anything else.’ He began to cry. ‘Can you help us?’ “I felt myself shrink with shame. I couldn’t speak. I ran to the old woman and helped her back into her wheelchair. The poor woman was in so much pain that all she could do was take my hand and try to kiss it. I wouldn’t let her, but she had no strength to talk. “The little boy held out his hand. We shook hands, and he thanked me. I still couldn’t find an answer. I went home, parked the car in the courtyard, and stood looking at it. “I decided that for as long as I lived and the car was still running, I’d leave that mark on it. It would remind me never to rush through life so fast that someone had to throw a brick to make me notice the people around me.” Agha Bozorg is gone now, but his car is still there as a keepsake in my uncle’s garage. These days we hear the sound of people’s bones breaking. We hear our prisoners crying out for help. We hear the voices of Mahsa, Nika, Mohsen, Kian, and so many others. Shouldn’t we come together before life and the filthy Islamic Republic throw a brick at us? Shouldn’t we choose freedom for our land, once and for all, and return to the dignity of the monarchy? Long live Iran. Bring back the Pahlavi monarchy. Long live the Shah.