All language subtitles for Chicken With Plums (2011)

Chicken With Plums

Yeki boud, yeki naboud.

There was someone, there was no one.

That is how Persian tales begin.
Yeki boud, yeki naboud.

It was fall 1958.

I was passing through Tehran.

I met a certain Nasser AH,

whose story I will tell you.

- I'll take this one.
- Excellent choice, Meeter.

Iran?

Yes?

You don't remember me?

I'm sorry.

To tell the truth, not at all.

- You tried to cheat me again!
-l... I don't understand.

- The sound is lousy!
-But it was perfect for you.

Shut up!

Take this one. It's just come In.
A rare Item. Take It In exchange.

You pathetic crook! Give me back my money.

After taking care of a few things,
I passed by the famous cafe Naderi.

Nasser AH was there with his brother Abdi,

an activist in the Iranian communist party,

who, as usual, was vilifying
the English and Americans.

...and the damn Americans
and English own everything.

- Sir?
-A French coffee, please.

They think they're pumping our oil.

In reality, it's our blood they're sucking.

If I'm boring you, just say so.

“N, no...

- Someone broke my violin.
-Good Lord, who did that?

What difference does it make?

Did you go see Mirza? He has great violins.

That crook?

He tried to con me. All his violins are rotten.

Like father, like son.
They're a family of degenerates.

I'm done for.

I'll never play again.

Wait... Last month,
I visited an old friend in Rasht.

You'll never guess what he had.

Look at this Stradivarius.

It belonged to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart!

I'm leaving for Rasht tomorrow.

I'm going to get a violin.

Did you hear what I said?

I'm not deaf,

like your mother.

Leave the dead alone.

Whatever.

You're forgetting that I work all day.

Who'll take care of him?

I don't know. Ask your mother.

You know she's away this week.

You want to go to Rasht?
Well, take him with you.

Impossible. I can't take him with me.

It's not my problem. If you could at least...

If I what? If my husband worked...

I could oily homo and look after my son.
Like a true lady!

Besides, it's your fault.

It always is.

- Of course it's your fault!
-You get on my nerves!

- Bitch!
-Bastard!

I'll go alone, do you hear? Alone!

He': squabbly
They tell me he': a donkey

A: for mo, u for me
I can see that he': a hone

With a mane that shines like gloss

He gaff ops, he gaff ops
On his back

He's sniggery, he's squabbly

They tell me he's a donkey

As for me, as for me
I can see that he's...

On his back

I can't sleep

As for you
As for you

Little horse that I adore

just love you more and more

On your back, Heel great

won't sleep, tho' it be late

Goodbye, friends! Goodbye!

Excuse me, could you tell me
where to find Mr. Houshang?

Yes, carry straight on,

then turn left,

right,

and right again.

Thank you.

Shit!

What are you doing? Come along.

Hello?

Anybody there?

Mr. Houshang?

Who's asking?

It's Nasser Ali Khan, Abdi's brother.

I've been expecting you!

- Hello, sir.
-No, not 'sir'!

Houshang. Call me Houshang.

Welcome to my modest store.

I adore you, I revere you, I love you!

It's love, it's love...

Are you the one with a Stradivarius for sale?

Among other things-.

- Cigarette?
-No, thank you. Not right now.

I also deal in precious gems.

Take that off!

Look at this.

The biggest diamond in the world.

Fabulous, isn't it?

As you see, I have all sorts
of things in my shop.

Saffron,

opium,

fur coats,

and even

magic wands.

- Another cup of tn, my friend?
-No, thank you.

- Dad, when do we got on the bus?
-We'll take the bus...

I've come a very long way to see this violin.

Dad, I'm thirsty!

Pray do not be offended by my impatience,
but would it be possible to see it?

Of course, my friend.

- Dad, I'm thirsty!
-You'll drink...

But taste this opium first.

Relax.

To relax. God knows I need to.

The child sang non-stop the entire journey.

I have something to calm him down.

In a little milk, this should do the trick.

It': what my grandmother gave me
when I got too excited.

Here is

the marvel of marvels.

I remember the first time I heard you play-.

I had never heard anything so beautiful.
Truly, It was...

Just thinking about it
makes me want to weep.

See these tears flowing? Just there.

Yes, I see you're crying.

I will not sell you this priceless marvel...

I will give it to you!

For 1,000 Toumans.

1,000!

I paid 1,049 for it myself.

That's 49 Toumans out of my own pocket.

And why do I do that?

Because you are my friend.
Because you are you...

I only have 700.

700 Toumans. It's a deal.

That'll do fine.

What would I not do
for the master of masters!

Let us celebrate, my friend.

”My coming brought no prophet to the sky.

”Nor does my going swell its majesty.

'Coming and going put me to a stand.

"Ear never heard their wherefore,

"nor their why."

They arrived home the next night.

Nasser Ali had but one desire,
to play his new violin.

But he preferred to wait until morning.

He got up at 7:00 on the dot.

He went to the barber's.

There you go, sir.

Then went back home
and put on his best suit.

Looks like you've got an appointment
with the Prime Minister himself!

When his wife and daughter left,
he had but one more matter to settle.

Hello, Cyrus.

Do you have opium?

Since no violin would ever again
give him the pleasure of playing,

Nasser AH decided to die.

Eight days later, on November 22nd,
he was buried beside his mother.

That day, a}! those
who had loved him Imam present.

THE FIRST DAY

So, Nasser AH had decided to die.

He thought of various my:
to put an and to his days.

First, he considered
a somewhat drastic method.

Then he contemplated a romantic approach.

Why not something more classical?

All in all, these solutions were too painful.

Then he remembered an article
in a scientific journal,

maintaining that the least painful way
of departing this life

was to take barbiturates
then slip a plastic bag over one's head.

But the idea of being found
with an ugly plastic bag on his head

was simply out of the question.

He was Nasser Ali Khan after all,
best violinist of his time.

How would he be remembered?
”The man with the plastic bag”?

No, no, no.

He would die with dignity.

He would wait for death
to come and claim him in his bed.

- Mom, can I go on the swing?
-When you've finished your homework.

Cyrus?

Nasser Ali?

- What are you doing In bed at this hour?
-I've decided to die.

- And where's Cyrus?
-I left him at the neighbor's.

Again! Is it too much to ask
that you take care of your son?

I'm going for your brother.
Do your homework.

Dad?

It's you, my daughter.

What's wrong? Are you sick?

No.

I'm just a little tired.

How was your day?

I got A- for my dictation.

Well done!

Mom isn't happy-

She says it's not good enough.

She says there's a pupil In her class
who always gets A+.

Your mother talks too much.

She says I have to work hard,

that If I want to be a doctor,
I have to got A+, too.

For sure...

Can I go on the swing now?

Yes, go ahead.

Thanks, Dad.

- Who are you?
-What a question!

Nasser Ali wasn't exactly a born father.

Still, he did his best to play his role.

I ate him with my big mouth
and my pointy teeth!

- Why?
-Because that was his destiny.

Dad? Can I have a doll that talks?

- They n'! talk, sweetie.
-Yes, they n.

Come here, I'll show you.

Mr. Ashour, I will eat you, too.

See, they're just rag dolls.

Well, children, what should I do?

Eat him! Eat him!

Would you like to go on the merry-go-round?

No.

Would you like some cotton candy?

No.

Would you like to play on that?

No.

Well, what do you want?

Possessed by en unusual Interest
In morpho psycholoqy,

Nasser Ali was convinced that
his physical resemblance to his daughter

proved the closeness of their souls.

He we: not wrong.
They were both Intelligent,

lively,

spiritual beings

and desperately melancholic.

At 23, Lili married a man
her mother approved of.

The relationship didn't last long.
She divorced after eight months.

People gossiped, but Lili didn't give a damn.

After a while, she fell madly in love.

With an actor...

Sadly, her lover died
in a car crash four years later.

!.!!! never got over !t.

She drowned her sorrow in gambling,
alcohol and cigarettes.

She had two heart attacks,
one after the other.

Whenever people told her to stop
her excesses, that her life was in danger,

she answered...

Life... If only you knew what I think of life.

Her third heart attack was her last.

I don't believe it!

What are you doing here?

- But Dad said...
-What did Dad say?

THE SECOND DAY

Hello.

Faranguisse?

Really? Since when?

Very well, stay where you are.
I'll come to see him.

Yes, okay.

I must go and see my brother.

- What's going on? I: It serious?
-I don't know.

He hasn't left his room for two days.

- What did Faranguisse sly?
-Nothing.

I guess they quarreled as usual
and now he's sulking.

What can I say? The woman's an idiot.

Don't say that.

It can't be easy to live with a man
who puts his music first.

Maybe so, but that doesn't
make her any brighter.

She's an idiot! She's nasty!
She's a rabid dog!

The woman's nerve-racking!

Whose fault is that?

He would never have married her
if your mother hadn't forced him.

Everyone knew he wasn't in love
with poor Faranguisse.

This woman is Genghis Khan!

In any case,

I was against that marriage.

He deserved better.

SOPHIA LOREN
Woman Of The River

The brothers appreciated each other,
but they'd never had anything in common.

Abdi was conscientious and serious,

Nasser Ali was rebellious and irresponsible.

Abdi was his parents' pride and joy,
Nasser Ali was a source of distress.

Now what have you done?

Nothing, sir.

Look at this fool, this bad seed.

He re-did his year, his marks were so poor.

Unacceptable behavior!

Yes! Mr- Nasser Ali's only response
was to break a school window-.

It wasn't me!

Quiet!

Abdi, come here.

Come closer, my child.

Look...

Here is Abdi, his little brother.

Same family, same education.

Except that he is first in all subjects.

See?

Bad seed,

good seed.

Good seed,

bad seed.

I ask you to applaud Abdi.

Come, children!

That's enough!

Now,

you will boo Nasser Ali-.

Louder!

Nasser Ali?

It's me. Abdi.

Can I come in?

I was just passing by and I thought,
'I'll go see my brother.'

Well, you see me now.

What's going on, Nasser Ali?

Nothing.

I've decided to die.

On my way here,

I saw there's a new film on at the Persepolis.

Guess who's in it?

Look.

Well?

Greta Garbo?

No!

Sophia Loren?

Remember how beautiful she was
in that film in Naples?

How about we go see the movie together?

No, Abdi. I told you, I want to die.

Your wife called ma.
She's very worried, you know.

I suspected you didn't just come like that.

Whatever.

What difference does it make?

You're not well, so I came. I'm your brother.

You can't just Ila In bed waiting to die!
It's ridiculous!

I understand you're depressed
about your violin, but you have a wife

end two children
You're responsible for them.

How can you be so selfish!

Selfish?

You're a fine one to talk.

What about your wife,
your children, your family?

Did you think about them when
you became a revolutionary communist?

Did you think what they went through
while you were in prison?

You were the righter of wrongs,
the one who dared to say "No"!

You wanted to change the world,
and devil take the hindmost!

Someone had to react.
If everyone were like you...

So what if they were?
Would things really be worse?

What have you changed?

Are things any better today?

And let me remind you of one thing.
When you were playing the hero,

Mom had to squander the family fortune
to got you out of prison.

So you n fluff your high morals
you know whore!

Forgive me, Abdi.

It's okay.

Abdi,

when I die,

promise you'll take care of my children.

Stop it.

Don't talk nonsense.

I promise.

At dusk on the second day,

Nasser Ali remembered what pleasure was.

For that one night,
his bitterness disappeared.

He slept peacefully.

THE THIRD DAY

The third day,

Nasser Ali was overwhelmed by boredom.

It is common knowledge that boredom
is the best fertilizer

for absurd thoughts.

Between two cigarettes, he wondered

how he would be remembered,
what his legacy would be, etc, etc...

He thought of Socrates who,
apart from his philosophical genius,

had managed to leave this world
with elegance and style.

Socrates!

Why did you drink this poison?

Don't leave us!

It matters not!

For beyond this fleshly coil,

my thought will live on.

By my death, it will become eternal.

Nasser Ali decided to summon his children
to impart to them his final thoughts.

Children?

Children!

Children!

Children, I know I have often been absent.

Now my hour has come.

I must depart.

Soon, we will be separated.

It is my duty as a father to bequeath to you

a precious treasure
that will serve you throughout your life

and guide you through
the darkness of existence.

This treasure

is the very essence of creation

for it is through art that we understand life

and it is through life...

It matters not!

For beyond this fleshly coil,

my thought will live on.

By my death...

Nasser Ali thought how insignificant we are
and that Socrates had had a narrow escape.

Give me a hug.

No! You stink.

Anyway, what did he expect
from a son like that?

He was the polar opposite of his father,
noisy, chatty, greedy,

and, horror, when asked what he wanted
to be when he grew up, he answered...

I want to be a grocer!

What will become of him?

No surprises there.

At 22, after his difficult school years,

Cyrus finally entered university
to do business studies.

Suddenly,

the revolution erupted.

A year later, war broke out.

Like man y others,
Cyrus decided to leave for the States.

He managed to enroll
In e mediocre university In Wyoming.

It we: on the university campus
that he met Nancy.

They kissed,

she got pregnant,

and they married.

A baby?

Yes, a baby.

Haw come your niece
didn't realize she was pregnant?

Try to spot a 9-pounds baby
in 400 pounds of meat.

You'll see it's not easy.

What's more, for his middle name,
they chose 'Nasser.'

"Jimmy-Nasser"! Can you believe it!

Luckily my father was long dead,

otherwise he'd have burst a blood vessel...

Or two...

THE FOURTH DAY

On the evening of the fourth day,
Faranguisse was in despair.

Hoping for a possible reconciliation,

she decided to prepare e nice dish
oi chicken with plums,

Nasser Ali's favorite.

Naively, she thought she could
get to his heart through his stomach.

The only time she sew her husband happy
wee at mealtimes.

He sometimes even had a kind word for her.

That's the beet chicken with plume
I've ever eaten.

It must be said that despite appearances,
Faranguisse still loved Nasser Ali.

Few knew it, but she had
secretly loved him since childhood.

When he went away for years,
to the four corners of the world,

she patiently awaited his return.

She put all her energy into her studies

and refused the few marriage
proposals she received.

Nasser All ls back.
Nasser All?

Nasser Ali is back.

She had a long wait,

but before she became an old maid,

Nasser AH returned to Tehran.

Nasser Ali is back.

Faranguisse, Faranguisse...

Nasser Ali is back.

At the time, she was 30,

he was 414.

Hello, Faranguisse.

NasserAli, did you know
that Faranguisse is a math teacher?

It's wonderful. In my opinion,
this country needs women like you.

Modern women.

Nasser Ali, have a cake.

Faranguisse brought them.

What delicious cakes!

- Don't they look good?
-Yes, very good.

Faranguisse, It seems you graduated
top In your year?

She was first in her class!

No, second.

- Now you're teacher?
-Yes.

That's fantastic.

She's intelligent, serious,
she has character...

Her head's screwed on right.

Very tightly screwed!

I'll prepare some watermelon.

Nasser Ali, would you give me a hand?

But, Mom, that': not the point.
I don't love this girl.

I think this girl, as you say, is very nice.

She's cute, kind, educated.

- And single!
-What are you doing here?

Nothing. I've left the women
to chat among themselves.

Listen, my son.

You're 41, you've been all over the world.

Surely you don't want to end up a bachelor?

Mom, you're not listening. I don't love her.

And for good reason!

It doesn't matter.

Marry first and love will come with time.

And marry they did.

But love never came.

NasserAli,

it's me.

I've made chicken with plums,

your favorite dish.

You must be starving, darling.

You haven't eaten for three days.

- Would you like mo to...
-No, I'm not hungry.

I'll put it here. If you change your mind...

You don't understand.

I've lost the taste,

the joy, the savor.

All by your fault.

I asked you to do one thing,

take your son to the doctor's
and you can't even do it!

Good God! I'm sick of having
to take care of everything.

I wash, I Iron, I cook.
On top of It all, I have to work.

You're tho man.
You should support your family.

You're such e pain In the us.
You married e musician, not e laborer.

You knew I was an artist
when you married me.

An artist! Big deal!

You couldn't even hold down
that job at the conservatory.

How small-minded you can be,
you shitty little teacher.

I will never forgive you.

I will never forgive you.

Forgive me, my love.

You know how much I love you.

NasserAli, I beg you,

tell me you love me, too.

Don't let a simple violin destroy our life.

What are you talking about?

I've never loved you, Faranguisse.

Never. Get that into your little head.

Never!

You're a monster.

I hate you.

Let us go back to Nasser Ali's youth.

Since childhood, he excelled
in one discipline, music.

When he was 21, his mother resigned
herself to sending him to Shiraz,

to study violin with the greatest
master of the day, Agha Mozaffar.

Sometimes, Nasser Ali
was confused by his master,

who seemed to hold
some awfully obscure views.

I have nothing to sly
about your technique, it I: excellent.

But your music is total shit!

But, Master...

Any fool can acquire technique.

It's not about technique.

It's about art.

For it is through art that we understand life.

The instrument is simply there
to make the light burst forth.

Your fingers move.

Sounds come out.

But it is empty.

It is barren.

It is nothing!

Life is a breath,

life is a sigh.

It is this sigh that you must seize.

Dad, I absolutely must have a new dress.

Iran, I gave you one last week.

Dad, this is different.
It's for Malak's birthday.

I must have a real evening dress.
What will people think?

All right... Just this once.

Thank you, Daddy darling!

See you later.

Well done, sir!

Excellent choice.

Top quality Swiss.

Solid gold face,
Insanely accurate mechanics,

chimes of crystal purity.

All for the paltry sum of 100 Toumans.

Yes, it's perfect.

Lovely purchase, sir.

I'll wrap it for you.

Nasser Ali's fate was in the balance.

He could no longer live
without seeing again the beautiful...

I have just come to tell you it works perfectly-.

Miss!

Iran!

Do we know each other?

Yes.

No.

I saw you In your father's shop.
I wanted to ask you...

You wanted to ask me...

THE FIFTH DAY

At dawn on the fifth day, Nasser Ali
felt that death was drawing close.

He thought he would soon be joining
those who had departed before him.

He remembered his mother

and the days before her death.

Is that you?

Are you all right, Mom?

No!

I'm angry, very angry.

Hush, bad boy!

You think only of yourself.

I'm in terrible pain.

My hour has come, my child.

And what do you do?

You pray and pray.

Your prayers are stopping me from dying.

I know you love me

and you want to keep me by your side.

But I repeat,

living has become unbearable to me.

Stop calling on the good Lord.

Right now.

Understood?

Light me a cigarette.

I'm not sure that in your state...

In the state I'm in,

cigarettes are all that can comfort me.

You know,

as I have often said,

smoke is the food of the soul.

In any case, I have seen him...

Who?

Hand,

the Angel of Death.

Yes, of course.

NasserAli?

Go into the garden,

play for me.

Your music is so beautiful.

The day of Parvine's funeral,
a strange phenomenon occurred.

Just after she was buried,

a thick cloud of smoke
formed above her grave.

Naturally, everyone
had their own explanation.

That's all the cigarettes she's smoked.

Three packs a day! Imagine!

For sure, with all that she took in!

That's not it. I'm a surveyor.

The ground here is calcareous,

which favors condensation.

Yes, of course.

What a bunch of fools!

This smoke simply proves
that the soul exists.

Your mother's soul was so thick,

so intense,

that it is materializing before our very eyes.

Of course, that must be it.

You don't believe me.

Well, you should.

You think I'm crazy.

But I know many things about you.

Really?

I know you were born on March 10th, 1908-.

Yes, it's true.

I also know that you lost your father
at the age of 12.

I know that at 21,
you loft to study muslc In Shiraz.

Shiraz...

And that there,

your heart was broken.

You think about her all the time.

Don't you?

You see?

You doubt.

You were so shattered
that your heart turned to stone.

You no longer let the breath of life enter you.

Mistake!

You have renounced life.

There I: nothing worse then
giving up on life!

Nothing!

You know what Hafez says,

"I batter the wheel of heaven
when it rolls not rightly by.

"I am not one of the snivelers

"who fall thereon and die."

You were right to flop preying
for your mother.

Her time had come.

Nasser AH had a hunch.

For five days he'd been calling
Death with all his heart,

but it seemed to scorn him.

He wondered if someone
was praying for him.

Yes, Nasser AH,

someone is praying for you.

THE SIXTH DAY

In the course of the sixth day,

I, Azrael, Angel of Death
finally went to meet Nasser All.

Hello, Nasser Ali. Awake at last.

All right!

You win, I surrender.

My children, forgive me!
Faranguisse, everyone! Lord!

I ask your forgiveness!

Go on,

let's get it over with! Do what you must.

I am ready.

For Heaven's sake, calm down.

You'll hurt yourself.

Come and sit down, buddy.

Come on!

Cigarette?

Is this it?

My time has come?

Not exactly, no.

- Well, not right away.
-What do you mean?

Why are you here, then?

I just wanted to meet you.

You've been calling me night and day
for almost a week,

so I came to see you.

I was sure that whoever saw you
dropped dead instantly.

Still here?

What you say only holds
for those who die a natural death.

Technically speaking,
things are different for suicides.

That's interesting.

Actually, there ere no herd end feet rules.
There ere exceptions.

As you can Imagine,
I sometimes meat people by chance.

By chance.

I have some time to kill,
so I'll tell you a story.

A long time ago, I was ordered
to take the life of a certain Mr. Ashour

at the Taj Mahal, in India.

Well, the day before, I ran into him
by chance in the market in Jerusalem.

- How much are the tomatoes?
-100 dinars.

- Too expensive.
-50 dinars?

An.
an.

2 dinars-.

Mr. Ashour! What are you doing here?

The fellow was so scared,
he ran away screaming.

He rushed into Solomon's palace
and urgently asked to see him.

Solomon!

Solomon, my King!

What can I do for you, Mr. Ashour?

I've just met Azrael, the Angel of Death.

He shot me a terrifying look.
He wants to take me!

I'm going to die!

I must leave Jerusalem. Now! Immediately!

But where would you go?

You know that no one escapee
the Angel of Death.

I don't know. As far away as possible.

To India! To India!

If such is your desire.

So Solomon asked the wind
to carry Mr. Ashour where he wanted to go,

to the Taj Mahal, in India.

There you are, Mr. Ashour, just in time.

Azrael... Just one question.
Then you can go ahead...

I promise!

Very well, Mr. Ashour, I'm listening.

If you were to take my life today,

why did you look at me so angrily yesterday?

You're mistaken, my friend, l wasn’t angry.

Today I must deal the final blow,
here in lndla,

and yesterday, I ran Into you In Jerusalem.
Understand my surprise.

I wondered how you would
travel so far in just one day.

I see.

And he died?

Yes, his hour had come.

And when will mine?

I don't know. I don't make the decisions.

Azrael?

Is it a little late to change my mind?

It is not a little late, dear friend.

It's too late...

"Whoever

"returned of all that went before

"to tell of that long road they travel over.

"Leave naught undone
of what you have to do

'for when you go,

"you will return no more."

It's a pity, Nasser Ali.

You only had this life.

He's not well at all.

THE SEVENTH DAY

It'll be fine, Faranguisse.

NasserAli?

He's feverish.

Well?

I've given him a shot, but In his state,
It can only be temporary.

Is there nothing more to be done?

You know, sir,
when person decides to die...

Do you think Dad's going to die?

Yes.

All this is my fault.

Forgive me.

Miss!

Iran!

Do we know each other?

THE EIGHTH DAY

I saw you in your father's shop

and I wanted to ask you...

You wanted to ask me...

May I accompany you?

I mean, may I walk with you?

Iran,

will you marry me?

Of course, my love.

It is my heart's deepest desire.

Tomorrow I will go to see your father.

Nasser Ali, I am so happy!

This is the most beautiful day of my life.

Dad!

Iran, please leave us alone.

But, Dad...

Go, please!

How dare you ask me
for my daughter's hand?

But, sir...

I wasn't born yesterday. I know passion.

It comes as fast as it goes!

The reality of life is very different.

You're e musician, for goodness' sake.
You have no money.

How will you support my daughter?
Have you thought of that?

I will work. I will earn money.

How? Doing what?

Since when has any musician
earned a decent living, eh?

But, sir, I love her.

So prove it.

Walk out of her life!

Don't ruin her future!

You are still young.

With time you will forget her,

and she will forget you.

I can promise you one thing, sir,

and that is, I will never forget your daughter.

Dad!

How can you do this to me?

I love him!

Iran!

You are here. You came.

I came to say goodbye, my love.

I came to see you one last time.

Iran...

Don't make it harder than it already is.

I cannot do this to my father.

It would kill him.

Now you are a great musician.

At last,

you have managed to seize the sigh.

Her father doesn't want me to marry her.

I'll never see her again.

What a fool!

Come with me.

This violin belonged to my master.

He gave it to me.

Now it is yours.

You see, my child,

from now on,

the love you have lost
will be in each note you play.

She will be your breath and your sigh.

This love is precious

because it is eternal.

I know what I'm talking about.

Go forth, now.

I have nothing more to teach you.

For Nasser All it Ives the start
of e 20-year journey ell over the world.

As his master had predicted,
every time he played,

Iran was present

in each note, each chord.

Iran?

You don't remember me?

I'm sorry.

To tell the truth,

not at all.

Grandma!

Come on, let's go. I'm tired.

Yes, we're going, my dear.

I beg your pardon. I must be mistaken.

No harm done, sir.

Goodbye.

Nasser Ali!

My love!

Iran...