45 pieces
This story is a little long, but please read it, for yourself, and perhaps for a friend who needs you beside them. The Patience Stone and the Spoon in the Tea Glass That summer, Siamak…
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Beneath the Sand It was one of those hot summers when Agha Bozorg took us to Bushehr. I don’t remember why we went, or how many days we stayed. All I remember is one afternoon, and one…
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The new university term had begun, and I had taken on several difficult courses. Some evenings I went to Agha Bozorg’s house. It was quieter there, so I could study better, and he had s…
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Sometimes it’s worth slowing down. Believe me, for all its technology and complicated turns, life doesn’t move quite as fast as we think. Take a little time to read this story. I’m sure…
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A new family had moved into our neighborhood. They had a boy my age, and I thought how wonderful it would be to have a new friend. I always saw him sitting at the window, looking outsid…
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Bear with me and read this story. I’m sure every one of you has experienced something like it, especially here on X. The war had ended about two or three years earlier, and life was gra…
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I don’t know whether it was the war and the bombings lodged in my memory or something else that made me terrified of night and darkness. Whatever the reason, for a long time I had to le…
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My sister was about twelve and had grown very quiet. When she came home from school, she went straight to her room and occupied herself with her lessons. I remember my mother proudly te…
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I remember being just as excited for Yalda Night as I was for Nowruz. My uncles and aunts would bring their children to Agha Bozorg’s house, and we would all be together. The atmosphere…
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It was late spring, time for final exams. The weather was warming and the air conditioners were being switched on. The thought of summer vacation was perhaps the loveliest feeling of th…
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In 1401, just days after Mahsa was killed, he joined Twitter. He chose the name Lion, in honor of the Lion and Sun. At first he knew no one, let alone any monarchists. Little by little,…
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Sometimes I hear people say, “They’re not going anywhere,” or “A revolution is hard,” or “We’ll have to fight for a long, long time,” and other discouraging things. I want to answer the…
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Following a custom Agha Bozorg taught us, I read to my daughter every night before bed. Then, as she puts it, she closes her eyes, makes a wish silently in her heart, and goes to sleep.…
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I’ve told you before that Agha Bozorg had a Cadillac. He loved it, always cleaning it and looking after it. One day I asked, “Agha Bozorg, is this a very expensive car?” “No, son, but i…
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It was afternoon, and I had just come home from school. I’d had a science exam that day and hadn’t done well at all. Upset and frustrated, I sat in a corner of the yard throwing pebbles…
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I remember that when school closed for the summer, my mother enrolled me in all kinds of classes: languages, swimming, photography, wood marquetry. I liked them, though sometimes there…
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Editorial cover“Dad, will you tell me a happy memory from when you were young?” “Um...” Agha Bozorg: “Come here, sweetheart. I have a happy story from my youth to tell you.” We are a generation sadden…
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One of my favorite places to spend time, especially with Agha Bozorg, was his library. Bookshelves lined the walls, full of all kinds of books. There was a desk and a leather chair, and…
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Behind Agha Bozorg’s garden stood a very old tree. When I was younger, my cousins and I climbed its branches and played there for hours. Agha Bozorg had a rule for every trip to that ga…
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“What are you looking for, Agha Bozorg?” He was searching all around his room. He turned toward me. “It was right here...” “What was? Your glasses?” “No.” “Your pills?” “No, dear boy.”…
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Have I told you how much I loved soccer? Our neighborhood had a team, and sometimes we played teams from nearby neighborhoods. What days those were: a double-layered plastic ball and a…
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I remember that Agha Bozorg always left the lamp by his porch on, even during the day. That light never went out. Toward the end, after he developed Alzheimer’s, he marked the switch so…
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That year, as in years before, we had all gone to Agha Bozorg’s garden house to celebrate Yalda Night. Everyone knew how much Iranian traditions meant to Agha Bozorg and Khanom Joon, an…
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One summer when we had all gone to Agha Bozorg’s garden house, we decided to celebrate my birthday there. I was so happy on the day. The children in the family had come too. When it was…
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My Paintings and Agha Bozorg I dedicate this story to my dear Arezou, @arezoubehrang_, an artist whose love for my homeland and my king has given us precious paintings to treasure. So s…
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The Paper Boat and Other People’s Words Agha Bozorg loved music and encouraged all his children and grandchildren to play an instrument. I’d been practicing guitar for a year or two and…
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Agha Bozorg’s Garden, the Nails, and the Hammer What matters is what we say to whom, and how we say it, isn’t it? Words can sometimes cut more sharply than a surgeon’s blade. Read this…
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At last Nowruz had arrived. The excitement of new clothes, seeing our relatives, and having a holiday filled every part of me. Agha Bozorg and Khanom Joon were elders of the family, so…
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I was playing with my little sister in the courtyard. In the middle of our game, she grabbed my toy car. I angrily pulled it away. She had a habit of throwing things, and I was afraid s…
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Back when Agha Bozorg was stronger and could walk, he used to go on foot to the neighborhood bakery once or twice a week in the morning. He’d get some exercise and bring home fresh brea…
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I’d been sad for a few days and didn’t feel much like playing. I spent most of my time in the courtyard, by the flowerbed. Agha Bozorg noticed. He came and sat beside me. “Is something…
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Summer had just begun. As promised, Agha Bozorg and I were going to drive toward Tehran to visit my uncle’s family and let me see a little of the world. Near Pol-e Dokhtar, Agha Bozorg…
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I remember once when a suitor’s family came to ask for my aunt’s hand. They arrived with great pomp. I was curious and listened from behind the gazor, the cupboard between the sitting r…
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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…
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Listen, my friend, my fellow Iranian, part of my own flesh. What’s past is past. Instead of looking back, we must follow the command of the king of Iran and look ahead to the future. As…
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An Iranian in exile writes from the heart. This may hurt a little. The last days had come. I was preparing for a forced departure, and I had to leave my Iran and my family behind. On on…
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The Story of Learning to Ride a Bicycle Summer had just begun. I’d practiced with my father for a few days and had finally learned to ride a bicycle without help. I was so excited I cou…
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Until the last years of his life, for as long as he was able, Agha Bozorg made his own bed first thing every morning. He called it “making it up.” Then he opened his bedroom window and…
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One day I asked Agha Bozorg, “Who is a good friend?” He lit a cigarette. “A friend deserves to be treated with respect. “When your head is down, a friend doesn’t walk past and say, ‘You…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverA few years ago, I fell into a severe depression. Nothing seemed beautiful to me. The world had taken on a particular darkness and meaninglessness. One day I was sitting alone by Agha B…
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It was afternoon, and my mother said, “Take this tea and the sugar bowl out to Agha Bozorg in the courtyard.” I went out and looked around for him. He was sitting by the flowerbed, a ci…
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One winter day I went out into the alley to play with the other children. But everything was different that day. They were there, yet as soon as they saw me, they said goodbye to one an…
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One day, while I was playing in the courtyard, I remembered one of Khanom Bozorg’s favorite expressions. She’d say a certain thing was “for those who are better than us,” or that only “…
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One day, when I came home from school, I found Agha Bozorg sitting in his chair at the edge of the courtyard. His old radio was beside him, and he was listening to music. He sometimes s…
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One day Agha Bozorg told me: “If you have a friend, then when your heart trembles, there’s someone beside you to calm it. “If you have a friend, then when you’re hurting and call, they…
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