What once used to shine

From the very first glance, even before my mind could identify this place and recall its history, I was enchanted by this picture; captivated by those neon lights and their dazzling presence in the surrounding melancholy darkness that encloses them. It is probably winter. I try to enter from the coldness and darkness of the space, but the blur, the darkness, and of course the cars and withered trees around it, do not let me in — neither to warm myself nor to see what lies behind the windows. It’s as if everything insists that this image is nothing but a fading illusion, and behind the deceptive veil of a dream there is nothing but the impact of reality after waking and the longing for what no longer exists.

The more I look at the picture, the sadder and more nostalgic I become. Why do I feel sorrowful for a place and time I never lived through? I free my memory to recall all I have seen and read — that abandoned building at the bottom of today’s Valiasr Square.

Did Radio City shine this brightly even amidst the flames?

The historical acceptance that the past has passed, and that today’s Radio City resembles a large tombstone, is even more heartbreaking than this photograph. And also the belief that this visible source of light in the image has been swallowed by darkness and fallen into silence.