Nomadic life has always brought its challenges, but nothing was more difficult and stressful than the struggle my father endured in the mountains to build a new home. Every day, he spent hours digging rocks and carrying materials in the high mountains, his hands tired but his heart full of hope. His callused hands seemed to bear witness to the endless days and nights he spent fighting alongside his family in these harsh, rocky and dusty terrains.
My father, with his eyes fixed on the distance, never let the strong mountain winds or the bitter cold deter him from his goal. By day, he would laboriously remove large rocks from the mountains, and by night, he would sleep under the starry sky with his family, ready to start all over again the next day. But building a home was only part of the challenge. In order for there to be a way to this house, he had to build a road that would pass through the mountains. He would break rocks, cut down trees, and sometimes, with the terrifying sound of breaking rocks, he would open a new path for himself and his family.
Kohyar, the eldest son of the family, who was always with his father during these days, witnessed his relentless efforts with his own eyes. At that time, while Kohyar’s face was blue from the intensity of work and dust, he could see nothing in his father’s eyes except love for him and respect for this endless struggle. Like his father, he wished that this house that was being built in the mountains would not only be a shelter for their family, but also a symbol of perseverance and determination that would never give up in the face of hardship.
Every day, as the new road slowly took shape and the house rose into the mountains, the father, with a tired face and a brave smile, looked at the mountaineer and said, “We were not born here to give up, my son. These mountains will be built with our blood and sweat, just like the house we build.”
Living in the heart of this harsh and cruel nature taught them lessons for life. Not only was a new house being built, but a new spirit was being built. A spirit that flowed through every stone and tree that fell from the road.
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