Reza Rahsepar
At 8:30 a.m. on Monday, the 15th of Bahman 1403 (4th of Sha’ban 1446), the blessed birthday of Bab al-Hawa’ij, the radiant moon of Bani Hashim, Hazrat Abul-Fazl (pbuh) — the Disabled Veterans’ Day — we set off from Daneshgah Street toward Narmak with a group that included Hujjat al-Islam Akhtari, the former secretary-general of the Ahl Al-Bayt World Assembly and the Leader of the Revolution’s representative. We enter Martyr Golestani Street and then Martyr Mahmoud Reza Endallah Alley — the very martyr they say was the most influential cultural figure in the Nezamabad area.
We are going to visit one of the disabled veterans and convey the greetings of the Leader to him. As everyone enters, he welcomes us with a warm smile and a calm gaze.
Haj Hassan is intimate and humble, disciplined in speech and committed in words. Though he has been in a wheelchair for years, there is no trace of fatigue in him. His home is just like any ordinary home. The same things you’d usually find in any house. Nothing extra, no glitz or glamor that would hint at luxury.
I enjoy sitting in that house. With enthusiasm, I take a seat on the couch to the left of Haj Hassan, who is now seated in his wheelchair facing the guests. His piercing eyes sink deep into my soul. How much being a disabled veteran suits him!
Many people spend a fortune on clothes and makeup, hoping to transform themselves. Yet not even a trace of real transformation nor loveliness. But not Hassan Makhmali, who now holds a PhD in E-health Strategic Planning from Sheffield Hallam University in England. Being a disabled veteran radiates beautifully from his wounds.
To the point that he says, “We own nothing of our own, and we ask for nothing from the government. This house and car that we possess — we have vowed to dedicate them to the path of the Resistance Front, and we take pride in this small offering.”
The guests are captivated by Haj Hassan’s words, while I wrestle with my own thoughts: How strong must a person’s soul be so that at the end of what we call life, he would give it all away for the sake of the path of truth with such ease, peace, and perfect health of mind, and without expecting anything in return? Where else could you find someone who, after sacrificing his health and enduring years in a wheelchair, still searches for more to give?
I feel ashamed of myself. Unconsciously, when I stand before a mirror, I close my eyes — so I won’t have to look myself in the eye. Because a person’s conscience won’t let them see such truths and still lie to themselves by saying: “What has this Revolution ever done for us anyway?”
Dr. Makhmali’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. He says:
We staged the Revolution with empty hands. We held no grudges. We harbored no envy. We were not narrow-minded. We had neither numbers nor resources. We had no arrogance. We were not selfish. We never lost hope. And with hands full of emptiness and hearts brimming with divine love, we staged the Revolution. We fought with the strength of our nobility. We offered blood. We offered martyrs. We even surpassed one another across minefields. And now, we stand tall on the international stage. America and the others don’t understand. But we believed, and made it happen.
His words are sweet and uplifting. Yet time is always short, even for listening to the song of the canaries of the Revolution and the war. Haj Akhtari conveys the esteemed Leader’s greetings to Haj Hassan. I know, in this moment, he is choked up and his eyes are filled with tears.
He gifts the keffiyeh that the Leader sent him to his wife and says, “Everything I have is from the prayers my wife has whispered.”
It’s time to say goodbye. But Haj Hassan wants to leave us with a final, piercing bullet! He has composed a ghazal and begins to recite it, embedding its essence into our minds with just this half a verse: “We ran without legs and reached the purpose ...”
The image of Haj Hassan Makhmali settles into a corner of my mind. We say our goodbyes and depart. When I get home, the warmth of Haj Hassan’s hands still tingles in my fingertips. I must do something for the Revolution ...
(The above is Reza Rahsepar's personal account of his participation in Hujjat al-Islam Akhtari visiting the homes of veterans to honor these living heroes and their families, representing Imam Khamenei, on February 3, 2025)
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