Gazing back through Time’s veil to a distant life in my beloved Iran, I can still catch the sound of Dodi’s unique, irrepressible laughter, ringing through Saadabad’s beautiful gardens as eloquent testament to her infectious love of life and wonderful lightness of being.
I never saw her much after those halcyon days of Iran’s twilight years, and it now strikes me how much her ‘dervish’ ways must have impressed for me to have retained such a memory of them for so long.
Non-conformist, every bit the rebel and very true to herself, was Dodi. The great love of her life was Kami, and I recall the explosion of happiness inside her whenever she saw him after a period of absence. I am sure it must have remained like that for the both of them down the years and the thought of that powerful love warms me, even today.
It saddens me greatly that such a spirit is no longer with us because the world needs people like Dodi, who care deeply, and are not afraid to show that they care.
Ja’t besyar khali-ye Dodi jun…..
Glynn Burridge. Mahé, Seychelles.
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