Chamidān-i Khākistarī-yi Aḥmad Maḥmūd: Persian 1402

Sarak Ata's narrations from her father Ahmad Mahmoud will not leave the minds of the readers of this book, because they are the narration of a daughter from her father... the narrations and pieces in which she interweaves both her father, Ahmad Mahmoud, and sometimes both. She narrates at the same time herself, the houses, the cities, and how she has preserved her identity as a woman who wrote and experienced alongside a literary giant for years. His essays are short and full of color, light, and stories. From a writer's father who punches her with a handful of dirt to take south to a woman who tries to remember the first time her father showed her snow. In this book, Sarak Ata takes "Ahmed Mahmoud's gray suitcase" and takes the audience to the places where all the "neighbors" are gathered and waiting to meet. Sarak narrates his father and himself in front of each other and remembers how Ahmad Mahmoud became Mahmoud and remained Mahmoud, and now he is the one who writes about how he lit a lamp more than twenty years after the death of the author of Zemin Sukhteh. The book, with Parjan's prose and Sarak's space, and his emphasis on interesting details, is a collection of essays by a girl about her father or a father told by a girl, and definitely by an author about another author.