With the wind - Abbas Kiarostami

The book "Along with the Wind" by the Iranian director and poet Abbas Kiarostami is not a text you read as much as you listen to it. Kiarostami, who brought his cinematic vision to the world and gave everyday images their poetic depth, writes here with the same clarity that characterized his films: few sentences, wide whiteness, and a silent space between words that resembles those moments when time pauses to allow the soul to breathe. The book is not an ordinary reading experience but an experience of dwelling within a calmness formed from light and air. Kiarostami moves between reflections, fragments, short scenes, as if he is capturing the word rather than writing it. Nature appears as if it is a character: the wind, trees, snow, the road, a ray of light on a window, an unknown passerby’s footsteps… all turn into light signals that create within the reader a sense of fullness despite the scarcity of words. Kiarostami does not interpret the world; he merely observes it, leaving it to the reader to complete the picture: what does the wind say? And why do everyday things seem heavier than their meaning? His style here is a direct extension of his cinema: the calm camera, slow rhythm, and astonishing attention to small details. In the book, this spirit appears in short, transparent texts that carry the weight of major questions—death, solitude, love, the road, and the search for meaning. Between each line, there is a deliberate space, an invitation for the reader to participate in writing the text and to reorder their inner voice according to Kiarostami’s gentle rhythm. It is a book that does not offer answers but opens a door for listening. Ultimately, "Along with the Wind" is a work about living slowly, about noticing what we pass over daily without seeing it. A book that makes the reader rediscover the world through the simplicity of experience, to find that the wind is not just movement in the air but a mirror of the soul searching for its own quietness. And the questions left by the work linger softly: Do we walk with the wind… or is it the wind that walks with us?