Araz Gholami

When I saw my first white hair, I didn’t really feel old. Feeling tired or listless also just seemed like passing sensations. But what happened yesterday fully plunged me into the sense of aging.

Confectioneries and sweets in Tabriz are some of the most tempting and irresistible things you can eat in this city. And I, defenseless, passed by one of the famous bakeries. With a 45-degree pivot, I veered toward it and went inside. I bought what I estimated (half a kilo) of cream pastries, thinking it might not even be enough, and came out. I sat in the park and finished the first one. By the time I was halfway through the second, I felt this was the end of the line. I couldn’t even manage a small bite more. Thinking it was the lack of tea, I got some tea and tried to finish the second one. I did, but with extreme difficulty. I couldn’t even think about the third. How could one of my favorite treats be so impossible to eat? But it was, and there was nothing I could do. In the most despairing way, I dumped the entire box into the trash and walked away.