Sorrows and sparrows

I was pleasantly surprised that it was made by the same story-teller who also shared with us the tale of Baran Baran some years back. In my opinion, this is a far greater movie than the former attempt, more imagery-interpretation to keep one’s smile intact even when the plight of the lead actor brought a tear to my eyes and the flow of the story is highly commendable. (For the plot of the story, catch the trailer below) 

Scenes that left an indelible image in my mind have one thing in common, that simplicity is a bliss and great blessings are granted through a faithful heart. Such moments of being touched reminds me of the director’s highly-recommended movie, Children of Heaven. One may think that this is a pity as it would seem that it lacks creativity or any breakthrough, but on second thoughts, it can also prove that what touches one indeed truly comes from within and needs no duplicity or complexities.

Back to the scenes. I really like the many imagery presented in colors and objects. Such as the man carrying a  blue wooden door which he picked up in Tehran walking all alone in the almost barren yellow land. It sort of symbolises the threshold that he has crossed over from the simple, rural land to the complicated, urbanised city. Yet it was such a burden for a man of such humble background, that the possession of such a luxury is more a problem than a gift. And the scene when the sparrow kept wanting to get out of the enclosed house and knocked itself on the window panes. Then the injured father witnessed its numerous attempts and opened the door instead for the sparrow to fly out to regain its freedom. And I especially like the bi-polar development in the plot where on the one hand the father kept piling up on his material desires and ambition as seen in the heap of picked up trash turned gold in his front yard while the son continued his quest in clearing the muddy well to keep fishes in clear waters. And true enough, the father gradually fell into the corrupted world of desires and vices while the son has eventually created an oasis of paradise.


I will not forget the tears of innocence and genunity when the bucket overturned and the fishes were jumping to stay alive. The boys desperately swept them into the nearby drain or stream, crying out their hearts was unbearable, and the father’s tune that sings to a world of lie that brought a smile to the faces of the boys was  really comforting and uplifting to the soul. Yet it would be the scene when the father prayerfully converse with his God outside the gate of a well-to-do family that will haunt me for life.

Then the family was planning to drive their car out of the gate but halted when they saw a man praying without much distraction. Though he was anxious at the sight of the coming car, he has remained unfazed and kept his heart and mind fixated on his prayer. This simple act of faith has completely moved the owner of the house to then offer the father a glass of tea to be offered to his God as well.

Tears welled up in my eyes and my heart raced at that very moment…

Life goes on, modernisation and industrialisation too. People will chase after material needs and worry about the unknown and unseen future, I am no exception. But how I wish I could be exempted, to ponder over and meditate over a glass of tea with a cube of sugar, then open a front door to let out an imprisoned free spirit when all windows seemed to be tightly shut up.

I long to sing a song of sparrows. I long to hear the songs of sparrows…


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