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MEMORIES OF A LEAF
God places a silk thread in your hand and says to you, “If you want to see me, follow this thread.”
With just the desire to see him, you follow that long silky thread. You start an unknown trip to an unknown destination. You walk and walk until you start to feel tired. You want to stop somewhere to have some water and something to eat. In that unknown desert, it looks impossible, but all of a sudden you find in front of you a caravansary. An ancient place created for travellers to stay appears to you like a mirage. You can feel a cool breeze coming from inside as soon as you arrive at its threshold. Pausing on the cool heavy stone floor, covered with a beautiful Persian rug, you slowly move toward a turquoise pond to refresh your feet in its canal. Breathing deep into your lungs, you can feel the freshness of the air mix with the water vapor. You take advantage of the fresh running water and wash your face.
Everything emanates of joy and warmth at the same time. The harmonious dance of goldfish in the water captures your eyes and you feel lost in that beauty. You let water run on your arms and head, getting ready for namaz (prayer), your daily prayer to God Almighty.
You go toward the main hall, passing through ghahve khane (a coffee shop), stepping up on a large, tall, well-curved stone; nobody is there but you. You sit and wait.
There are long reddish curtains that divide the courtyard from the hall. They give a vitality and readiness to face life, creating a vivid contrast with the turquoise of the pond. The movement of the fountain and the gray stones of the floor invite you to stay still and calm.
Just then, a man with a yellow shawl around his waist enters. He wears a long white tunic and pants of the same color. He leaves his loose old boots of cotton at the foot of the steps, rushing to offer you a soft cotton towel. You take it with a sense of gratitude, and dry your hands and face with it. You feel the urge to ask, “Where am I?”
Hassan Agha, this huge and strong man, invites you to sit and replies, “Yazd Baba!” His soft voice assures you and you sit, leaning into huge, colorful cushions. Hassan Agha places hot tea in a transparent glass in front of you and invites you to enjoy it. The aroma of that bergamot tea is astonishing. He offers another small tray with different glass bowls of hard sugar, candies, and baklava. In all these simple offers, you feel the flow of love and attention toward you.
Even the earth, under those huge cushions, is taking away a burden from you. You feel at home! You raise your head with a sense of gratitude in your heart and notice the huge dome of the ceiling, made of mud and straw, with white inserts of gypsum. All together this creates a magnificent and spiritual atmosphere. You feel no need to sweeten your black tea.
In surrender and trust, you close your eyes and listen to Hassan Agha narrate the story of mysterious lands.

