The Song of Sparrows

Karim is an honorable man. Sometimes his foot slipped and crossed the border of honor. It wouldn't take long for life to punish him for this very reason. Slaps that were often bigger than his size. Sometimes the size of a pierced plum bag, sometimes the size of a wall collapsing on his head. I couldn't watch Karim's story and not take it personally. Not out of honor. I took it personally because my life is full of stories of "pierced plum bags" and "collapsing walls". Every mistake there was, every time I hit the dirt road and mistook the path for the wrong way, a beating followed. Hard and grounding. What do they call it… yeah! "Terrifying". Like the punishment for drinking wine.

I wanted to complain endlessly. To say, old man, you yourself put Karim in this situation and now you punish him for every extra mistake? Wasn't it enough that his only joy had become the junk in the corner of the yard? But no. I have no complaints. I hesitated whether this was from the cruelty of fate or Karim's good fortune. That he had Haniyeh and Hossein. He had Narges. That even after he lost his temper and slapped Haniyeh, his daughter still wasn't willing to utter a word about not hearing. About the hearing aid breaking down when her dad had no money to buy one anymore. I don't know. Maybe it was important that Karim remained honorable. Maybe it was important that his eyes didn't close so he wouldn't mistake the path for the wrong way. I don't know. At some point in life, you retell the story for yourself ten, a hundred, a thousand times from the beginning. Every time you change the camera angle and finally stop somewhere. You become fixated staring into the lens aperture. You don't touch anything. Silent. Astonished watching. Under your breath you say "This is finally it!". Now you take the narrative from the beginning. Karim's story was the same. I turned it upside down a hundred ways and searched its nooks and crannies, and finally framed the shot I wanted. Maybe it's my good fortune that I was always punished severely. Maybe it's better to redefine everything for myself from the beginning. I don't know, but I still have hope that maybe I will finally understand.

01:30 AM, January 25, 2024.