Kit Kat

For me as a child, buying a piece of happiness was kit kat, no money for my mother, who was divorced at the time, she bought a pack of ten for me, in a small shop next to the Ministry of Culture, I didn't eat them until the weekend, for one reason: I visited my grandparents' paternal side in lower part of Tehran on Fridays. On Friday when I arrived, a lot of children gathered around me, and everyone got half of a pack, the Kit Kat ritual lasted two full hours, they ate it like their fathers smoked opium, a small piece every ten minutes, as if it were paradise fruit. That's how it tasted to me, eating slowly like something rare. Well the gates were already open for me back then, I noticed it when a father wanted to take the ten packs away from me by force because of 5 grams of opium money!