ROYA by Amil Imani

This is more than a memoir of lost love; it is a haunting exploration of the intensity of youth in a vanished Iran. It is for anyone who has ever searched through the pages of a book to find a mirror for their own devotion. Find out in the pages of ROYA. Here is a short excerpt:

With poetry, of course, there must be a great love. I don’t remember how young I was when I first discovered love. Love that had a name, Roya (dream), it was. Yes, there was a young girl around my neighbourhood with whom I was totally in love. I am telling you the truth, a true love that only one would find in stories. A great love.

Perfect love is an illusion!

But her love, like an avid wave in the ocean,
It always revived my stagnant life,
Constantly twisting and turning,
Always aggregating,
Always reflecting,
Drifting…

In the realm of my heart, Roya’s love resided as a force that breathed life into my existence. It was a love that flowed like a restless wave in the vast ocean, bringing movement and vitality to my otherwise stagnant days. Each twist and turn gathered strength, growing more profound and resonant.

Her love was a mirror that reflected the deepest recesses of my soul, a constant reminder of the profound connection we shared. I was drifting in the ebb and flow of emotions, carried by the currents of affection and longing. It was an experience that defied logic, transcending the boundaries of reality.

I vowed to live for this love in the depths of my being, knowing that its essence would forever remain entwined with my own. I etched these thoughts deep within me, fearing they might one day evaporate from my consciousness. Throughout my life, I have been a symbol of eternal challenges, a constant struggle within myself, enveloped in abstraction. Yet, deep down, I yearn to embrace my humanity and fully embody the immense capacity for love within me.

I marvelled at the depth of my emotions, astonished that someone so young could experience such overwhelming love. It felt as if my entire being was consumed by an all-encompassing affection, a devotion that knew no bounds. My innocent heart held onto the belief that no soul could ever love another as fiercely as I loved my Roya.

Roya was my dream,

A dream that was a creation of my thoughts.
A dream that nourished me,
And gave me reasons to live,
It gave me reasons to love.
A dream that I used to know,
A dream that I used to love.

In those days, Tehran’s streets pulsated with life and artistic expression. It was a time when poetry, music, and literature flowed through the city’s veins, painting vivid portraits of the human experience.

One evening, as the sun descended, casting a warm glow over the bustling bazaar, I was drawn to a small café tucked away in a hidden corner. Its humble exterior belied the magic that unfolded within those walls.

Inside, poets and writers gathered, their pens dancing across the paper as they poured their hearts onto the page. The air was thick with the aroma of steaming tea and the sound of impassioned discussions. It was a sanctuary where the echoes of untold stories reverberated, where the weight of shared experiences bonded strangers as kindred souls.
As the words escaped my lips, a torrent of emotions surged through the air, electrifying the atmosphere with the intensity of a thunderstorm.

The weight of my confession hung in the space between us, trembling with the power to reshape our intertwined destinies. I could see the flicker of astonishment in her eyes, the recognition of a truth long concealed beneath our shared existence. It was as if the universe paused in anticipation, awaiting the outcome of this cosmic collision of hearts. And at that moment, as the world continued its relentless dance of joy and sorrow, I was transfixed by the unfolding drama, an eager spectator yearning for the ultimate resolution.

The depths of my soul echoed with the reverberations of eternal longing, a fervent desire for happiness that transcends the temporal boundaries of our earthly existence.

©2026 Amil Imani. All rights reserved.

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