Septembers of Shiraz Page #3

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How can they forget

everything that he did for them?

- That's how it is now.

Sorry, khanoum.

- Have you lost your mind?

This is not fair.

He hasn't had his trial yet.

Farnaz, are you okay?

- Trial?

If you guys think

there's going to be a trial,

you're going to be

very disappointed.

- Morteza...

Why are you doing this?

Was my husband bad to you?

Did he ever refuse you anything?

- You see, khanoum...

...you fail to understand.

I mean that sincerely.

You see,

this isn't just about one man.

It's about a collection of men.

Men who turned their back

on injustice.

Men who profited

from a corrupt regime.

Men who built their villas

and traveled

whenever they wished

to places the likes of us...

Didn't even dare to dream of.

Have you ever thought

about how we lived? Huh?

Why does a country with so much

give so little to the poor?

You never cared.

But that's okay. You know why?

Because god has answered

the prayer of the weak.

God is on the side

of the faithful,

not on the sinners.

God will forever--

- since when

are you so faithful?

Just a couple of years ago,

you would show up

with your tight jeans

and borrow our car to pick up

one of your five girlfriends.

You think that beard

makes you a man of god?!

- Farnaz, come on, let's go.

That's enough.

- And since when is stealing

people's possessions

the call of god?

You are all hypocrites

who have suddenly

come into power

and don't know how to handle it.

- Does anyone...

Remember a time...

When this country

was just?

Generous?

- Cyrus the great.

- We were all equal.

Muslim...

Christian...

Jew...

Didn't matter.

We were a great empire.

- Oh, baba-ji, please.

That's the problem

with this country.

We somehow think we're special,

because once upon a time

we were great.

Darius, Cyrus,

persepolis...

That was 2,500 years ago.

What are we now?

Huh?

Barbarians.

- No...

Not all of us.

You're gonna throw this to them

or get a picture?

- Not yet.

- Take a picture for her.

- Ah! Wait... maybe a pin--

- sorry, sorry, sorry.

- Mama!

What happened here?

- I looked everywhere

for that ring.

It's just not here.

No.

- Look at baba's head.

- Yes, yes.

- And look at you.

You're so beautiful.

- You're so beautiful.

- What's he doing that?

- He's stepping on the glass.

- What for?

- It's to remind us that...

Even in times of great joy,

there is sadness.

That love is fragile.

It can break

if you're not careful.

Shirin-joon...

At some point,

guards will be coming

to search the house.

We have to get rid

of anything

that could look incriminating

to your father.

The same way that you had

to tear the pictures of the shah

from your school books...

...all of this will have to go.

That is your uncle Navid

when he was a little boy.

- Mama?

- Believe it or not...

...september 1958,

when I first met your father

in shiraz.

- "My breath is narrowed down

to one long sigh

for a red mouth that burns

my thoughts like fire."

- Give me that.

- Baba wrote that.

- It is his handwriting.

The words belong to hafiz.

- It's about love?

- Yeah.

- Let me read it.

"My breath is narrowed down

to one long sigh

"for a red mouth that burns

my thoughts like a fire.

"When will that mouth draw near

and make reply

to one whose life

is straitened with desire?"

- Huh?

- It is beautiful!

Look at the kitchen!

- Hmm? You like it?

- Can we afford it?

- Yes.

- Oh... it's beautiful!

It's beautiful!

- Want to see the best part?

- Yes.

- The bedroom. No, I'm kidding.

It's not that, but come on.

Okay. Close your eyes.

Keep... no!

Yeah.

- Oh, a reflecting pool.

- It needs some water.

You always talked about the one

you had growing up. Hmm?

What was it you used to say?

"I could always count

on its simplified beauty."

- Tell the pass code!

Hurry!

Tell the pass code!

Hurry!

We are here

to search your house.

Hurry! Take that.

Move. Take it.

- Shirin. Shirin?

Shirin...

- Radio!

- Shirin.

I have to go check

on my daughter.

- You're not going anywhere.

- I'll be right back.

- I'm sure your daughter

is fine. Sit!

The ring.

Give it to me,

or I'll cut it off.

Give it to me now!

- Mama!

- Where were you?

- I was hungry.

I was in the kitchen.

- Well... now that you are here,

show me where your mother

keeps her jewelry.

Goodbye, sister.

- It's okay.

Everything is gonna be alright,

baby.

- Ramin, eat, yes.

It's okay.

- They already killed my mother.

They really killed my mother.

Bijan yadgar.

Behrooz ghodsi.

Jahanshah soheil.

Isaac amin.

Vartan sofoyan.

Ramin ameri.

- It will be alright.

Isaac, it will be alright.

You will see.

Seventy-two virgins

may be waiting for each of us.

- Isaac!

Isaac! Isaac!

- Move!

- Isaac, please! Isaac, please!

- Your mother is feeling better?

- Much better, khanoum.

- Hold on. Sugar.

- Thank you. Her birthday

was a real celebration.

You should see my nephew,

what a handsome boy

he's becoming.

In a few years, he'll make

a fine husband for shirin.

- And morteza? Was he there?

- No, khanoum, he doesn't come

to these family gatherings.

He thinks

he has better things to do.

- Like looting.

- What?

- He didn't tell you.

He looted Isaac's office.

He and the other employees.

- My morteza?

- I was there, I saw it.

- You misunderstood.

- He said they were moving

the goods somewhere else

for safekeeping,

but I know better.

- You know better?

What is it that you see it

always right?

Is it possible you choose to see

what you want?

- I saw what I saw.

- You saw what you saw.

You're a kind woman,

farnaz-khanoum,

but you're full of scorn.

When I tell you maybe one day

my little nephew will marry

your shirin,

do you think I'm serious?

I say these things as a joke.

I know you will never tell me

how you really feel,

so you say nothing or you smile!

- I am telling you what I saw.

I saw your son

and the other employees

taking jewels, paintings,

tables, chairs!

And when I confronted him,

he said that Isaac had to pay

for the sins

of a whole collection of men.

- He said this?

- Yes.

- Well, maybe amin-agha

should pay.

Maybe it's time someone paid.

- Isaac has never

harmed anybody,

least of all you and your son.

He does not have to pay.

- Why is it that some people

were meant to be served

on hand and foot,

and all others could hope for

was washing toilets?

- You think Isaac

was born a prince?

No, habibeh, the money

didn't fall from the sky.

You work hard, you do well.

- I work hard.

My son works hard.

- And you have come a long way

from where you started.

Do I need to remind you

of the way you lived

when we met you,

you and your snot-nosed son

selling flowers

on a street corner?!

You were so emaciated

that you fainted!

We got out of the car

and Isaac said to me:

"Isn't there something we can do

to help these people?"

And we took you in.

Now, you tell me...

Is this what my husband

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