The headscarf was bothering me and this is really ruined my mood. I was tying the ends of the scarf at the top of my head in a new style, but my husband's sharp remark immediately cut through my efforts. His concern was for my appearance, for avoiding the scrutiny of the morality police. A sense of suffocation grew within me, each harsh word of his making the lack of freedom even more palpable.
I was cooking on the kitchen and repeating for yourself that the main thing is to cook with love - then it turns out tastier and the process itself becomes enjoyable. But the protesting inner voice kept trying to convince of something else - you are stuck in everyday life and you are losing the most interesting moments of life! My thoughts were interrupted by a husband's phone call. His friends from Tehran decided to abandon life in the capital and moved to live on the island of Qeshm.