Yalda Night and a Candle of Hope

What Yalda nights we once had... Pomegranates and watermelon... Candles and evenings of poetry... Love, warmth, and the Shahnameh... Grandmother's stories around the korsi, the family gathered close. The Yalda table was full and our hearts were free of grief. This year, Yalda, the longest night, feels as dark as forty-four years of ignorance, oppression, and plunder in my Iran. Our tables are empty and our hearts are full of pain and anger. This year the red on my Yalda table is not pomegranate. It is the blood of Iran's fallen young people and the tears of their courageous mothers. I know this has always been the way of the land of kings: it will not abide darkness. A dark night ends in dawn, and light will overcome darkness. This year I will light a candle while I wait for the light. With my fist clenched and a resolve as strong as my land's thousands of years of history, I will stand against the dark and celebrate the first rays of sunrise over Damavand. Tonight I will cry out for freedom, for monarchy, for my history and culture. This land is eternal, and the Shah never dies in the land of kings. I will light a candle. Alongside millions of my compatriots, flame beside flame, I will say 'Javid Shah.' Together we will pledge to bring this evil darkness to an end. Yes, my table holds a candle, a photograph of my Shah, and an image of the Lion and Sun flag. This time, together with millions of other Iranians, I will write the book of victory for Iran's national revolution. Long live Iran. #جاویدشاه P.S. Thanks to dear Bahram @Verethragnan for the posters and for editing the text.