Fallen Hero Babak Matin-Azad; The Night Time Stood Still Between Home and Lalehzar
Death Babak Matin Azad 49 years old in Iran Tehran Lalehzar
Written by: Roshana
Turning fifty beckons Babak. Its scent drifts through Niloofar Alley, like the fragrance of bitter orange blossoms in springtime. It is as though his dreams, one by one, are surfacing from beneath the grind of daily life. He thinks of that day—of the celebration meant to bring his fiftieth year to Sohrevardi Street, to the home where his two sons paint the colors of life, one by one. One is four years old, still small enough to fit in his father’s embrace; the other is nine, five years older, gradually leaving childhood behind to experience life differently in the world of adolescence. Babak’s days pass between two points: home and Lalehzar. In the mornings, he steps out of the house and makes his way into the midst of lights, wires, and electronic gear. Come evening, he retraces his steps and arrives back home—to the same rooms, the same sounds. It is as though his life is the two sides of a single street: on one side, Lalehzar with the clamor of shops and light; on the other, home, with its quiet and familiar breaths. Before him, his father had been an officer at the Nojeh Air Base, and his mother, Mrs. Mirzaei, had spent years of her life at the blackboard. On the evening of Fri…
بابک متین آزاد · لالهزار · تهران
