I am currently sitting at the British Library and close, very close to me, lays a volume of a 1719 Shah-nameh. It is open on its folio 38v-39r, showing a scene with some text in a cartouche.
I was able to read the text in that cartouche.
It says Razm Isfandiyar va Simurgh.
I cried, period. Two tears appeared in my eyes and they went down my cheeks. Then I stopped them before the drama escalated anymore. I was able to read the text. I was. I am.
The emotion is overflowing me right now.
Avani sits close to me, that soft, sweet grin sitting on his lips.
"I am very proud of you", he says.
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