I was born in Neyriz, a small town situated in the south east of Shiraz. Shiraz is the capital of the Province of Pars in Iran. My father was a gardener and a farmer.
My mother was a housewife, bearing a child in her womb and a child on her lap, cooking, cleaning and the rest. I was the only boy within six girls, actually seven; one died.
We were living six months out of a year in a garden which my father had made – not for himself, for a landlord. A stream of water was freely passed through the garden all the time. The water had been channelled from faraway mountains by a Qanat system. Qanat is the name of the ancient Persian irrigation system. Qanat is made of a row of wells interconnected by underground channel through which water from high mountains is led to the flat area. I think Qanat is evidence to the ingenuity of the ancient Persians who invented this irrigation system in order to efficiently and effectively manage water resources within the Iranian arid climate.
My father’s garden was the most beautiful of all and a place for picnic and camping, and relaxation. For me, the garden was the “Paradise on Earth”. As is the Iranian custom, the door was always open to good people. The garden was witness to the story of my father’s falling in love with my mother. He was walking on his way to the garden, when he sees a beautiful girl riding a donkey going with her father to their own property. He falls in love with her. He sends a friend to her father to ask permission to marry his daughter. After some rejections and following persistence, they marry which results in my conception in the garden (after 4 girls).