My Tajik idol and the gray that became a poem...

I walk down Tehran street from Samani square and in a sooty air that has stillness and solitude as well as the grandeur of the buildings, I take the path of the Lahuti Theater... I think I have gone back to Lahuti and Rozgar and in my ears Ahmad Zahir, the same Elvis Nakam of Afghanistan, keeps singing: "My narrow waist, my Tajik idol / Come near me, make peace..."

According to ambassador Arjan; Before traveling to Dushanbe and hearing the voices of Persian speakers who remain in legends and who seem to be the lost and impatient souls of Iranian people who search for pure gold and visit authenticity in a far away, rare and untouched place, Lahoti was for me a pilgrim in love and reaching the beloved who put the word on his back and galloped; So that in the days when the mouth was smelled, lest you say: "I turned half yellow from poverty / The grief of the poor made my face yellow", reach and sing and write a salami on paper of wisdom and justice, balanced and like the charisma of the Persian-speaking Turks; who is a seeker of justice and poetry, is in love with Amir Kufa and not Kufi Safat...

I knew that the creator of these words was a theologian, and I wondered how someone with that great stature and the prefix of major, which speaks of his position in the modern Iranian gendarmerie, could speak such pure and gentle words in describing the embodiment of the body, which is the interpretation of a divine artist; And what a deep capacity a person has... They say that the famous Sarpas Mukhtari, whose name caused fear, was one of the most masterful violinists, and his sheet music book is still unique, and he lovingly puts the bow on the violin and soap on the politicians and those who have fallen from the throne.

Lahoti was from the generation of modern Iranian military men who knew the word and knew the new world, and in the eyes of the people, they were no longer those gazmehs, esses, Cossacks, thieves, naked, and stupid coercives, and they had credit and a future for themselves among the people. Benald: "This head, which is a sign of guardianship / Today you are free from suffering / See with the vision of its lesson / This is the end of patriotism". At the same time as joining the modern Iranian Gendarmerie, Lahoti also took up the pen and wrote songs and poems in Bistun magazine as per the law, Habal al-Matin and Soraya, and wrote about the ideals of the nation and the deprived and what is going on in Balad Farang, and the sleep and ruin of lawyers and ministers in Iran... It was as if he was a fellow mystic who sang in the same days: "The ministers are sleeping and the lawyers are ruined / They gave to plunder all the wire and gold of Iran".

Major had bigger airs in the head; The custom of coup d'état was flourishing in the world, and the people of Qashon came to the square to save the nation and did it...everything always starts with a pretext, and the integration of the gendarmerie into the Kazakh Khanate and the demeaning of its fellow soldiers, as well as the non-payment of salaries and debts, were the reasons for the rise of divinity in Tabriz, and of course it was quickly extinguished. It happened... Lahoti's lady says that on the Monday train to Kulab, when they come to the train restaurant to drink coffee, Lahoti sees that two Tajik young men are sitting together and the boy sings words to describe his friend, which are like poetry; It doesn't hold back and it rains down on the paper: "My narrow waist / my Tajik idol / come near me and find peace..." and it stays and is read and re-read so that it makes its name unique... Theology, but it is not limited to this; He returns the international anthem to Cyrillic, and this is extremely important for the country of the Soviets and adds to its value... Later, he also praises Stalin, and of course, the abundance of it is not very pleasing to the Georgian man...

I arrive at the Lahoti Theater... the building has a historical glory and its old age does not diminish its charm... apparently there are two main theaters in the building, one named Lahoti and the other Mayakovsky, which still have performances on the screen, and a little further from the theater, a statue of Lahoti with the same glory and a pen in hand, has been watching for years, as if metal with a pilgrim standing next to him, talking about ideals, time, homeland, emigration, and Chekame with a look. He says, whispers and says: "Don't reveal to anyone..."

Lahoti's credibility, and of course the weakness of the monarchy and the corruption of Hazarfamil, had highlighted the rumors about Lahoti's return and the leadership of the mass officers' coup; Of course, the prestige and reputation of being a poet had created an image beyond his true self among the next generation of Iranian soldiers./ Dr. Ehsan Iqbal Saeed