Khashoghani, born 1361, is Iran's rug today, a woman whose story begins from a child, from the same day that her small hands struck her mother's first node in the dark. He said, “My story starts from childhood, from the day my small hands shook the first node with hands.”

His hometown, the province of Ilam, the village of the bottom, was where under the shadow of old oak trees, the rugs were set up, and life was meant by Tard. It wasn’t six years that she sat next to her mother, her aunt and Mrs. Mrs. Mrs. His hands were shaken, but he was proud. The first node, the new world opened before it, the world in which everything was summed up in the abyss and nodes..

Image 1: Dear Dad, Bach.

But before he used to tie himself, the sounds and images in his mind were closed to shape his way of life. One of his most clear memories dates back to the age of seven: A autumn morning, before the full sun rises, he wakes up with a uniform voice on the tub. His mother sat under the shade of the old oak tree. The cool air was smelled and yellow leaves. He turned to the serpent, and his mother, as he saw it, whispered a quiet poem. Poetry of the joys and misfortunes of the day. There was no plan on the part of the day when they were born in the hearts of the same whispers and feelings of the happy and sick days..

For seven years, he was a deep understanding of life. Every node is not just a node, it is an emotional carrier that is present in the heart of the dead. It is the story of life, the story of happiness and nostalgia. Their village’s rugs came from here, from the spirit of women who wore a part of their existence with each node..

This understanding later deepened with a different experience. One day, his aunt was in the texture of the role of “his father and the flower and hunt,” which he found that the “flower” or the star was wrong. A few full steps must be broken. While his aunt was upset about this and his tears on the knots, he said, “Look, the girl’s heart is sometimes wrong. It must be opened, even if the whole flower is lost.” It took three days for them to be reunited. When the work is over, my aunt smiled and said, “From this mistake, I just realized that the Aslar flower had to be tied to a nice memory, not with a full heart.” From there he taught patience to the node, and found that even the wrong can be part of the ultimate beauty..

In that village, the carpet was a separate part of life. Women, along with agriculture and livestock, all the needs of life are met with their hands; from carpets and flowers to black tents of goat hair, from wheat transport bags to salts and colored ropes of girls and horse varieties. Work was collective, and teenage girls, including Khadah, learned about love, patience and art among these feminine circles..

This space made love for the carpet rooted in its existence, a love that nothing could get from. Not school lessons, not housework. He sat with his mother all the early days and directions, after returning from school..

In addition, in the high school of the city’s girls, she was educated in the mathematical and physics field and raised the wish of teachers. But life created another path; marriage at the same time made it distance from continuing education and going to the city of Ilam..

With the arrival of common life and motherhood, the responsibilities increased, but the rug never stopped from his life. Even in the busiest days, when his wife was in work and his children were asleep, he stayed awake and tied. The reason for this is simple: “Because the texture was breathing for me.” His wife was supportive of him all these years, and his children grew up in a space where love for art was ongoing..

The turning point of his life was reached in 2014 when he met a woman from his fellows at a carpet and flowering exhibition, an expert at the University of Tehran. This familiarity quickly became a deep relationship and sisters. Not only did she become a co-worker, but also a lifelong counselor and accompanying companion, who continues to this day with a common purpose..

It was a friend who encouraged him to continue education: “You have been loving for years now, go to college to deepen your art.” The Imam accepted this path and was accepted in the 1400s in the handbook of the University of Tehran’s wise light message and graduated as knowledge of this discipline. Now, the experience of years is intertwined with scientific knowledge, a path that itself owes to the same friendship that opens a new door..

The fruit of this companion was to set up carpet workshops in the city. As a coach, he stood with women and girls, many of whom didn’t even believe they could have a full rug. But he showed them that with love, nothing is far from reach. His students are not only artists today but also financially independent..

He is now known as a workshop and a skilled training instructor in the province of Ilam and has numerous titles, but for himself, he is the most important title of “baticism” – a love that has not been rooted and never turned off from a child in his life..

Abd al-Badhani and his companion still work with all the power to keep the art of the carpet alive between young women and girls. They believe that Iran’s rug is a living and authentic art identity that must be transferred to later generations. He is proud to continue the way of the past artists of this land, one of the unnamed patrons and thousands of years of art. Henry who believes in him will survive as long as women breathe and die..

And today, after years, there is still the same sense of rug under the old oak: “Every time I have a hook in my hand, the love of the rug becomes more alive in me and with love for the texture of the rug, life goes through me.”

Image 2: Saudi Arabia is on the carpet.