Do You Know the Taste of Cherry?

Those were the lockdown days, when I was incredibly busy doing absolutely nothing. I felt as if my life had lost its purpose. One day, while randomly scrolling through YouTube, I stumbled upon a film recommendation video that mentioned Taste of Cherry.

For some weird reason, I immediately felt an urge to watch it.

The reasons were simple:

1. The title was intriguing — Taste of Cherry. What does it mean? Is it symbolic? Is it some kind of peasant joke that I'm too rich to understand? Questions like these popped into my head and drew me toward the film like a moth to a flame.

2. It was available for free on YouTube. What more could one ask for? 

That was enough.

I put on my headphones, typed "Taste of Cherry" into the YouTube search bar, clicked the first result, and entered the world of Taste of Cherry.

(Spoiler Alert: Proceed at your own risk if you haven't watched the film. If you have, you're in for a treat.)

For the first few minutes, there were barely any dialogues—just a man driving through the city. Yet I could already feel the film's atmosphere pulling me in.

Then the first conversation began.

And... wait.

I was expecting some cool dialogue, but instead, everyone was speaking in a language I couldn't understand. Naturally, I assumed I had clicked on a dubbed version. So I searched again, this time typing "Taste of Cherry English film."

To my surprise, every version I found was still in the same language, which I didn't understand.

At this point, I had two theories:

1. The dubbed version had become so popular that the original version had been forgotten over time, like Ozymandias. (Yes, the poem by Percy Shelley about the fragility of greatness. I know it's completely irrelevant here, but I wanted to mention it.)

2. I was dumb enough to assume it was an English-language film.

Thankfully, Google came to my rescue, as it often does (especially, at odd hours of the night (-_ <).)

I soon discovered that Taste of Cherry is an Iranian film, and Persian is its original language.

So yes, I was dumb enough.

But thankfully, the same cannot be said about the film.

Watching Taste of Cherry turned out to be an eye-opening experience at a crucial point in my life.

It's difficult to compare this film with most contemporary cinema, which often relies on flashy gimmicks to convince audiences that they're watching something profound.

'Taste of cherry' does the opposite.

The film follows a man, our protagonist Mr. Badii, who wishes to die. He drives through the outskirts of Tehran searching for someone willing to assist him in carrying out his plan—a stranger who can become, in a way, his messiah.

Yes, you read that correctly.

The protagonist wants to die.

As he searches for someone to help him sever his ties with life, he engages in a series of philosophical conversations with different people. Each person offers a unique perspective on death, existence, suffering, and the purpose of life itself.

The journey through the dry, barren landscapes adds another layer of symbolism, making the experience even more profound. The physical terrain begins to mirror the protagonist's emotional state.

What I found most beautiful about Taste of Cherry is how it approaches the taboo subject of death without judgment or prejudice.

The film never lectures.

Instead, it quietly invites us to think.

And what lingers long after the credits roll is a realization that life's meaning often resides in the smallest things—things we usually dismiss as insignificant. A simple experience, a fleeting moment, a memory, a taste. These seemingly ordinary things can become reasons to keep living.

That is the lasting impact of Taste of Cherry.

Believe me, if you watch it with patience, it may leave you with questions—and answers—that no therapy session could ever provide.

Before I leave, here's a little homework.

Homework

1. What do you think the title Taste of Cherry means?

2. What is your own "Taste of Cherry"—the small thing that reminds you life is worth holding on to?