The sweet life of Amir Ali and his father was extinguished under the rubble in Tehran’s Mahallati neighborhood, and now this story has turned into a painful grief. The opportunity for life for this innocent child was very short. Less than 12 years ago, on the 1st of Esfand 1392 (February 20, 2014), his eyes opened to the world, and his first cries brought deep smiles to the faces of his young parents. With his arrival came light, hope, and joy, and sorrow fled. Now, with his departure, it is not just the dust of rubble but the dust of grief that blankets the lives of his small family.

Let us go, for a moment, back to the first terrifying night of the occupier regime’s attack on our beloved Iran. This is an exact account of that tragic night in Mahallati, Tehran, as narrated by Seyed Hossein Mirhashmi, Amir Ali’s grandfather: On Friday, 23 Khordad (June 13), around 2 a.m., in some areas of Tehran, people woke up startled by the sounds of bombs and missiles. In one such house, Ali, the uncle of this story, upon hearing the first terrifying blast, realized that the area around his sister’s house was targeted. He woke his father and, around 3 a.m., they went together toward the house of the young mother in this story.

“Where is my sister’s house? Where is my daughter’s house?” All they saw was destruction. Seeing this devastation, both imagined that all four members of this small family were lost. Yet, hours later, an unknown number called the father, and Amir Ali’s mother informed him that she and another child were alive.

The rubble-clearing lasted 12 hours, and there was still no sign of Amir Ali and his father, until the grandfather’s gaze fell on the familiar mattress of his grandson. He recognized it well because he had spent many hours at Amir Ali’s bedside telling stories and discussing future plans for his bright little grandson. Following this clue, moments later, he saw his grandson’s small hands. His eyes were closed, still lost in sleep, as if the moment of losing his sweet life had merged with his sleep, and he never woke up. One could only wish it had been so, so he heard no terrifying noise and his little heart never trembled even for a few seconds.

Amir Ali, the smart 12-year-old boy, whose principal had recently recommended sending him to a school for gifted students, was a young taekwondo athlete. The night before this tragic incident, he was thrilled to have seen Hadi Saei in person and could not sleep from excitement. Inspired by watching Aryan and Mehran at the Olympics, he dreamed of winning global and Olympic medals and pursued his big dreams with determination. Now, he and his sweet, bright dreams rest beneath layers of dust.

Amir Ali studied, played sports, and was full of joy, and his beautiful eyes brought hope to a family. He knew nothing of war, and that alone was reason enough for him to have the right to continue living. This sweet, successful, and innocent child of this land was cruelly taken by the child-killing regime, leaving his homeland and fellow citizens in mourning.