Atefeh Revolution Square

I hurried down the subway stairs; it was 7 in the morning. I had to rush to the university. The subway is always crowded in the morning, but everyone is dead silent, as if still asleep.

The train arrived, and the drowsy crowd boarded. A little boy sat on the train floor, holding his guitar. Suddenly, he started singing:

"For dancing in the street,
For the fear of kissing,
For my sister, for your sister, for all our sisters..."

A lump formed in my throat, and I frantically searched my bag for tissues.

The young girl across from me had tears streaming down both sides of her face. She pushed her mask aside and shouted to the crowd, "In memory of Mohsen Shekari and all those who were killed in our revolution movement!"

Her outcry shattered the morning silence. It felt like we were all on our way to a funeral. I swallowed the lump in my throat with all my strength, reached out, and gave the young girl the tissue I had found. I pushed my mask aside and tried to smile at her. She attempted to reciprocate my smile.

The subway rolled on, with our silence and tears. Shortly after, we arrived at the next station. The doors opened, and the announcement echoed through the speakers: "Dear passengers, this is 'Revolution Square.' Please exit.