... within those colored glass windows…




"That old house shaped a primal part of my, and your personality.. and you ruined it just like that".. you said, that night you called.. three a.m. in fact. I guess you were shaking a little, or it was just your voice.. I wrapped my dressing gown tight over myself, that was a cold night. did you need to wake me?.. I was thinking, –it wasn’t my decision, you know.. I said instead.
-but we grew up together there, we fell in love for the first time, and talked about it THERE, remember?
How could I not remember… but that was just an old house, and we needed an apartment for every one in the family. Tehran was growing fast, and we should too.

Today, like the past seven years I don’t have a haft sin*.. it’s like my Norooz is lost somewhere, within memories of those colored glass windows..





*Haft Sin is a traditional feature of Norooz, a table of seven (ie haft) goodies whose names starts with S (ie sin); Sib (apple) samanoo( a sweet food like pooridge ) somagh (an iranian spice) sir (garlic) sekkeh (coin) senjed (a small friut) and serkeh (vinegar).
There must be mirror, colored eggs, gold fish, plate on which wheat or another grain has grown and candles on the table as well.