The coins of Pahlavi Era and The Islamic Revolution of Iran

1. Having a good child
2. A loyal wife
3. A simple dowry
4. Welfare within the limits of social security and minimal living expenses
5. Having an obedient wife
6. Family connections
7. Speaking several languages
8. A child who is at least trilingual
9. Location: Shahnameh 14
Tahereh Age: #38 Degree and field of study: #PhD Height: 156 Weight: 50 ...
🔶  One of the prominent characteristics of the aforementioned is having a hundred job changes; someone who changed a hundred jobs and found a hundred jobs for herself

Biography:
🔶 Childhood was accompanied by fun. Freedom and liberation from the prominent characteristics of this period. The first sister was born when I was 4 years old and the second sister was born when I was 5.5 years old. Because we had no relative and my mother was pregnant and my father was at work, I had more freedom during this period. Until the birth of my second sister, it was difficult for me to say words that had the letter p in them. My brothers would test me many times with the helicopter word. The apartment word was harder than helicopter. I had learned the order of the letters incorrectly and had to correct it at an age when I could recognize it.
The smell of the trumpet flower of the neighbor on the left, the tomato of the neighbor across the street, and the radish of the neighbor further away made the space more pleasant for me. At that time, even though we were in an urban area, the neighbors believed in planting vegetables in the gardens in front of the houses. They did not think it was bad to have chickens and roosters in the house, and we also welcomed cats along with the chickens and roosters. One of the neighbors had 12 turtles that would go outside the house and they knew the way back home.
We came to Mashhad in 1986, when the Iran-Iraq war was still going on.
With just a little walk in the dirt streets, you could find the Pahlavi era coins that were out of use with the change of government from Pahlavi to the Islamic Republic, even a decade after the revolution. Most of the small coins of the Pahlavi period of metal coins included a prominent image of a man who appeared to be hairless. Through an investigation, it was found that we have both a coin with the hairless head of Reza Shah Pahlavi and the head of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, which often included a twenty Rial coin. The back of these coins was often the lion and the sun common from the Qajar period. When we passed by the street, sometimes our eyes caught these coins that no one took.

The common coins of the sixties ranged from one rial to 10 tomans. We could buy a whole watermelon for 2 tomans, and 5 tomans was a yellow coin, the type of which was different from the rest of the coins. The 5-toman coin had an orange color with two wheat ears engraved under it. On the back of this coin was the image of the map of Iran. Later, smaller coins of one toman were minted, and this new coinage went up to 25 tomans two pieces in the seventies and the Ahmadinejad era in the 80s. For someone like me, there was no difference between a toy and my grandmother's souvenir silver ring under the tire of the car, collecting them was not considered art and we would pass by them like that.

Our family went to the bath once a week. There were times when they brought big fish and we saw that if we put the fish in the water it can breathe and swim.
Gradually, with the end of the war (Iran-Iraq war-1980-1988), people's morals changed. They hated cats and it was possible that news would spread that our cat, our friend, no longer visited this neighborhood because it had been burned down once. The shells of a few turtles broke, and we soon moved to another rented house in the middle of the city.
At that time, the blue scarf that Uncle Ali had bought for me was nothing more than a plastic cloth that the wind blew like a kite.
I was 5.5 years old when my second sister was born in the middle of the city. I was still free then. Even though we were in the middle of the city and there were no neighbors' wide gardens, I knew the way to the park near the house and to get there I would follow the path of the sun, as if I were walking in a heather.
Even the half-finished house in the middle was considered part of the nature. We lived on the top floor (2nd floor) of a house where the branches of a pomegranate tree reached up to the second floor. There was a pond in the middle of the yard and fig trees on the side that we had found a way to through the window of the basement garage so that we could enjoy their dried figs near tree trunks all year round. Mrs. Ghanbari, who had a son and daughter the same age as us, did not like our lifestyle and that of our family. She had a new orange color in his home decoration and she thought we were dirty kids. From the terrace one day I saw her beside her daughter who a half-eaten apple dropped from her hand and they left it there, just because it was dirty and left.
Her same opinion later played an effective role in putting a distance between me and my brothers. In her opinion, I, who was considered the youngest child in the family, was also the dirtiest. Of course, the position of the eldest male child in the family and between relatives also increased the distance. My mother and father had special gifts for their sons and our grandmother had special gifts for my mother's first son.
We would go to my grandmother's house in the city of Ahvaz in a year, and the my grandmother and aunt would come to our house, the next year. Grandma played an important educational role in us. She had bought a computer watch that had just become popular for my brothers and it seemed that she had bought this watch for me too. People around me also applied these differences in purchases to the boys. For example, my parents' first landlord in Mashhad had bought a camera for my elder brother, and since the boys used watches and cameras in my presence, I thought that these could be mine too, when they weren't. Although my brothers didn't feel absolute ownership of their possessions, they did realize their difference from me. The daughter of Ms. Qanbari, who was also my father's colleague, was not my friend, and I never thought of playing with her daughter, although we would occasionally go to their house with my brothers because of their presence. My beloved friend was an Afghan girl who lived nearby, across the street. When the “Hello kids” program on the radio ended, I would go to her. She taught me to play the drum and how to wear a chador (bigger than scarf) and hold it under my arm like other girls her age. They weren't going to stay in Iran long, and she said that they might return to their country at any time, because of the deportation order. That year, when my mother's last child was born, our house was close to the Afghan girl and my only friend. Once, my father gave me a bunch of toys, a Nowruz gift, and I took a few of them for my friend.
During my childhood years until my sisters grew up, I often played alone at home, and my dolls were my best friends, although being free in the alley and street did not keep me away from my friends in the neighborhood, and Samira, Bahareh, Athena, who from time to time gathered all the children in the neighborhood between the stairs of the first and second floors like a kindergarten, and I was the youngest of them, 4 years old. Athena's older sister was as attentive to everything as a kindergarten teacher. She was the only one who paid attention to my fingers after my mother painted them. Well done, have you cut your nails? Did your mother paint them for you? Don't paint them next time.
Safa and many other girls from my neighborhood friends were with me at different ages and were influential in my growth. There were also boys younger than us who would fit in and we would become a bunch of kids who would play together, but I didn't have relatives to support me and I didn't have any sympathy with relatives. If one day my freind’s relative would be in the same neighborhood, I would have found more differences with them. If I had reached school age that day, my best friend would have been a book.

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During elementary school, I had friends from the same neighborhood as Farank Soleimani, Mitra, and Anousheh. Anousheh was in the fifth grade, and Farank, Mitra, and Safa were the same age. Farank was a first grader. She have had a grandmother and she had extensive family connections. Families often asked me if my parents allowed me to go to their house. My parents didn't allow me either. My parents, with their more experience and resources, were able to impose a curfew between their house and the neighbor's house from the beginning for my two younger sisters. In addition, I had also grown up and could play a good role as a playmate for my sisters. My friends from the same neighborhood didn't need me urgently. In fact, it was me who showed them myself by wandering the streets so that they and their families would do them a favor and welcome me at their door or stay at their house for a while.
In the second, third, and fifth grades, I gradually met friends whom I would see many times in close proximity. Two of my friends were named Fatima. One of them was Seyyedeh Sanaz Bathaei. Of course, this was not a coincidence. My name was one of the titles of Hazrat Zahra and similar to Fatima.
Later, I realized that I might be related to the Seyyeds, and today I guess that Sanaz had seen a similar appearance to me in her relatives.
Seyyedeh Sanaz was not my only Seyyed friend. Later, in high school, my classmate Seyyed Hoda Kafschi became was my friend for 2-3 years. Before that, I had Hoda Aslani and a few friends named Fatima.
My family upbringing did not assign us to a extended relative. My paternal grandfather was a migrant from Shahrekord to Ahvaz. He and his brother were displaced after thier mothers died.
On my maternal grandfather's side, although we had an extended relative, no one mentioned the possibility of our becoming Seyyeds. We only called our grandmother Bibi and we called grandfather Aghajoon. Bibi, who was the mother of a martyr, often asked the most important question: is there war or not?
I had found Islam by comparing it to other religions and had not chosen it because of the family choices.
We were taught not to have pictures of the Imams, even rather that the pictures attributed to them were false. However, most people did not believe this, and the closer we got to the places where the Imams lived, the more pictures of Imam Ali were framed on the walls. In my opinion, this was a culture.
As I grew older, by seeing more faces attributed to, for example, this Imam and that Imam, I found more similarities and differences in terms of the specific people attributed to them. Some clearly declared themselves to be Sayyids and Sadats, and some did not, but the similarities distinguished friends and enemies.
I understood that I had to be steadfast in my religion, but I did not know that maybe my own grandfather would one day be one of the Imams. Did others think so too?
Apparently not. Those who considered themselves attributed to Imam Hussein were looking for a more accurate portrait of Imam Hussein. On the other hand, their enemies were also looking for this precision.
Later, this precision became clearer when the Sadat Hosseini family married my second brother.
Was I a member of the Sayyid and Sadat families and they knew us better than we knew ourselves?
Martyr Majid Silavi was once introduced by Martyr Qasem Soleimani Imamzadeh.
My guess is that what is undeniable is that my face is familiar among the Sayyids and Sadats, but “Was I their favorite type?”, is it a question that perhaps only God knows.