Persian Westender

You are absolutely correct Mehrban!

 It is amazing that you know this story too. My grandmother was from Yazd and I am not sure this story was specific to Yazdis. I can remember her yazdi’s accent saying the phrase: chel dar o basti,....and sometimes she used to say “namakok” as Yazdis say so. I was told the story by other people as well, but I think most often it was told by my grandmother. I was too young and I don’t remember much about this story. But strangely, I - out of nowhere remembered the room and even the bed that I used to lie down and listen to the story. I had forgotten this story for such a long time, but few nights ago I saw my grandmother and some traces of this story in my dream..... Thank you for reminding me about this.  

Namaki

I think I was told the story of Namaki by my grandmother as well.  It was a story with the lesson of vigilance, it had a refrain of;

چل درو بستی نمکی یه درو نبستی نمکی 

and if I remember correctly it was through that one open door that evil came and took Namaki.  

It is a great lesson.  

Dear Anonymouse and Anahid,

Thanks for reading,

At times, I think grandparents revive themselves somewhere/somehow deep inside of us. and there’s something influential, long-lasting and enigmatic in storytelling of grandmothers to their grandchildren. No matter how long is passed.

Dear Persian westender, our Grandmas are alive in what we write

Dear Persian westender, few times when I read from some of the famous writers, they all mention how they were told stories by their Grand parents.  My own grandmother used to tell stories and I especially liked the ones about Mulla Nasreddine.  For instance, there was one story in which how Mulla told wrong phrase to people gathering for funeral and wedding.  I believe those mothers/fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers who tell stories to their kids and grandkids, pass love of literature to them from very early ages.

It reminds me of my

It reminds me of my grandmas too.  We always say children will always be our "children" but children don't like that when they grow up.  I think this poem reminds us that we are always someone's "child" no matter how old we get, someone thought us how to be a child. 

Everything is sacred.