persian westender
by persian westender

Grandma told the night-time story

In that small room of the corner side

“Namaki”* was the name of the story

Name of a little boy like me

And I was only four.

Namaki was living in a fortress

The mountainous, mysterious fortress.

...Grandma died few years later

The room, the house, all gone

....and the story of ‘namaki ‘ too.


But Namaki is alive all of a sudden

In my lost-forgotten dream

Is telling the story of grandma

After 40 years-long awakening

* Namaki here means ‘made of salt’ in Persian


مادر بزرگ قصه گفت در اتاق کوچک آن طرفی‌

نام قصه بود " ‌نمکی". من چهار سالم بود .

‌نمکی نام کودکی بود مثل من. مقیم یک قلعه کوهستانی.

مادربزرگ چند سال بعد مرد. آن‌ اتاق، آن‌ خانه پرید...قصه ‌نمکی هم...

ولی‌ ‌نمکی در خواب من زنده است ناگهان:

قصه مادربزرگ را برای من در خواب میخواند.

بعد از چهل سال بیداری


Recently by persian westenderCommentsDate
Nov 25, 2012
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persian westender

You are absolutely correct Mehrban!

by persian westender on

 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.  




by Mehrban on

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.  

persian westender

Dear Anonymouse and Anahid,

by persian westender on

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.



Anahid Hojjati

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

by Anahid Hojjati on

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

by Anonymouse on

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.