Candle duty for Iran (a.k.a. The day the Paris sky turned green)

Small candles spell I R A N

I was standing on the side of the Trocadero plaza, the best vantage point for photos of the Eiffel tower, snapping photos of the demonstration in preparation, when a woman walked up to me, put a long candle in my hand, smilingly said something in Farsi and pointed at the huge candle composition that spelled IRAN - specifically at the bottom of the giant I, where no one was lighting the small candles.



I'm assigned to candle duty? I gladly indulged, of course.

me!

And for the next hour, I wasn't a bystander taking photos I thought would make an interesting blog post, where I would comment on the organisation and the pretty female demonstrators and make jokes about the green balloons and inhaling helium.

For an hour I was, infinitesimal as my contribution may be, one of them.

After a release of green balloons, shortly before sunset, we sat down and tended to the candles.


Save for the last 15 minutes, where people chanted in Farsi - I only joined at the 'Azadi' repetitive shout and just hummed and clapped along the rest of the chants - The entire event was largely silent, as we sat, reigniting the candles that the wind blew - 'IRAN' must shine throughout. And I came to think about the events of the past few weeks, and how my first journalistic 'neutrality' - the 'wait and figure out what happened' - had gradually eroded.

I'm simply stating that as a fact, and I don't feel bad about it really. I have taken sides and I was sitting amongst those whose side I have chosen.

So if I were to draw conclusions from the candle duty, they will be the following:

It takes a lot of people to keep the candles alight.

You will unavoidably burn yourself in the process.

There will always be an unwelcome gust of wind to blow away your candles. And trying to block it with your arm generally fails.

You may be tempted to let the candles die - 'what's the point anyway', you'll think.

Rest assured, you'll never be alone at the task.

If the job gets too hard, someone will always give you a hand.

And even if, at the end of the night, you ultimately fail and the wind emerges as the winner, you'll know deep down inside that, by God, you've given the wind a run for its money - and that you've held back long enough to make a difference.



NB: For more info about the Paris-based protests, check out here or here.