A Merit in Short

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The travelling dancers were three or four. Strolling in the streets of Tehran from another time. This could have been a time from the future; didn’t feel like one from the past.

On this sunny summer day which felt as delicate as a day of spring, a very handsome Ayatollah was passing us by, with a leash in his hand, accompanying this absolutely handsome grey-hazel German shepherd. One look from his meticulously colored eyes of caramel would fill you up with serenity and certain air of being lost.

Only a blink away, his turban along with his robe disappeared for some reason and underneath, this beautiful Israeli-looking angel sent down to earth from heavens came to existence. All the divine mystery in him was complemented by the final touch of that mauve sweat-shirt which perfectly rested on his godly figure.

He let go of the dog; it felt like he wanted to set him free for some fateful chase. One could sense fear and liberation simultaneously, as if awaiting a moment of rebirth, an instance of oblivion.

The dog ran off in slow motion towards the rays of the sun; leaving it all behind. The man looked determined and calm. He never looked us in the eye; he only looked away and uttered these words with his lips completely still:

The offspring of all that is on your mind, is right here in you reality. You become it; you have become it. you are it.

And then he fucking faded!

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