A Friend I Shall Never Forget

Among the many distinguished people whom destiny allowed me to meet throughout my life, one person occupies a truly special place in my heart and memory forever—Khosrow Hassanzadeh, one of the greatest contemporary Iranian artists of Azerbaijani origin.

Our friendship began in 1989 during the official visit of a Soviet cultural delegation to the Islamic Republic of Iran. It was in Tehran that we first met. I was introduced not only to his remarkable artistic talent but also to his extraordinary personality. We spent many hours discussing art, history, philosophy, literature, and the rich cultural heritage of our peoples. From that very first meeting, a sincere friendship was born—one that would endure for many years.

There was something symbolic in our acquaintance. We were almost the same age. I was born on 8 May 1963, while Khosrow was born in December of the same year. Perhaps this common generation allowed us to understand each other so naturally. Although we lived in different countries and followed different professional paths, we shared the same respect for culture, history, truth, and the dignity of every human being.

Khosrow remained deeply devoted to his homeland throughout his entire life. Unlike many artists of his generation who chose to leave Iran, he consciously decided to stay and continue creating in Tehran. His art was inseparable from the people among whom he had grown up, from the streets of his city, and from the everyday lives of ordinary men and women. This unwavering loyalty to his homeland earned my deepest admiration.

Following the dissolution of the Soviet Union, my official responsibilities frequently brought me back to Tehran. Whenever my duties allowed, I always found time to visit my dear friend. Our conversations often lasted for hours. We discussed not only painting but also politics, history, the future of our countries, and the difficult challenges facing the peoples of the Middle East and the former Soviet Union.

From time to time, Khosrow also visited me in Ashgabat. He was always a welcome guest in my home, where he was received not as a visitor but as a member of our family. Those evenings remain among the warmest and most treasured memories of my life.

My late wife, Bakhtavar Sabir gizi, a respected journalist of the National Television and Radio Broadcasting Company of Azerbaijan, also knew Khosrow very well. They were connected through family ties and shared their common Azerbaijani heritage. This made our meetings especially warm and heartfelt, filled with mutual respect, hospitality, and genuine friendship.

In 1994, Khosrow presented me with one of his paintings. To me, it was never simply a valuable work of art. It became a priceless symbol of our friendship, trust, and mutual respect. Sadly, during my forced departure from Turkmenistan, the authorities of that authoritarian regime prohibited me from taking the painting out of the country. According to information available to me, the artwork may still be preserved within the collections of the National Museum of Turkmenistan.

The same tragic fate befell our personal archive. Numerous photographs and video recordings documenting our meetings over many years were confiscated together with other parts of my private collection. According to available information, these archival materials remain stored within the archives of the Turkmen special services. Thus, many unique visual testimonies of our friendship have unfortunately been lost to history.

On 2 July 2023, while I myself was seriously ill and undergoing difficult medical treatment, tragedy struck. During that period, I had virtually no contact with the outside world and remained unaware that my dear friend had passed away. Only much later did I learn that Khosrow Hassanzadeh had died in a Tehran hospital after being poisoned by counterfeit alcohol containing lethal methanol. The news came as a profound personal shock and left a deep wound in my heart.

Today, Khosrow Hassanzadeh's paintings are exhibited in museums, galleries, and prestigious private collections throughout Europe, the Middle East, and many other parts of the world. His artistic legacy has secured him an enduring place among the most important figures of contemporary Iranian art. Yet no museum collection can fully reflect the generosity of his spirit, the kindness of his heart, or the remarkable humanity that characterized every aspect of his life.

For me, however, Khosrow will never be remembered merely as a world-renowned artist. Above all, he will remain the loyal friend whom I had the privilege and honour to know personally for many years. He was a man of exceptional integrity, extraordinary talent, remarkable modesty, and genuine warmth. His friendship was one of life's greatest gifts, and I shall always remain grateful that destiny allowed our paths to cross.

Years pass. Governments change. Borders are redrawn. Archives disappear. Photographs fade. Works of art are scattered across the world. Yet true friendship survives every political upheaval and every passage of time.

It lives not in archives or museums but in the human heart.

That is how I shall always remember my dear friend—Khosrow Hassanzadeh, an outstanding artist, a remarkable human being, and one of the brightest souls I was fortunate enough to meet during my lifetime.

May his memory remain eternal.

Heart's Memory

Among the many outstanding people whom fate has brought me together with throughout my life, one person forever holds a special place in my heart and memory — Khosrow Hassanzadeh, one of the greatest contemporary Iranian artists of Azerbaijani origin. His passing left an incurable wound, yet the light of his personality continues to warm my soul.

Our meeting was not a coincidence; it became a true gift of fate that transformed my perception of the world and art. In his presence, time seemed to slow its pace, giving way to sincerity, depth, and a certain primal human warmth.

The Strength of His Spirit

Khosrow combined the traits of a rugged warrior who had endured severe life trials with those of an incredibly vulnerable, sensitive creator. His Azerbaijani roots nourished his rebellious spirit, while Iranian culture endowed his works with poetic depth and multi-layered meaning.

He never sought easy paths either in life or in creativity, always remaining honest with himself. This uncompromising sincerity attracted people like a magnet, and I am fortunate to have been among those whom he trusted.

Art as a Confession

His paintings were never just paint on canvas — they cried, loved, suffered, and prayed along with their creator. Through his famous series of works, he spoke about what others preferred to remain silent about: pain, faith, identity, and the search for truth.

Each visit to his studio turned into a sacred ritual for me, where the air smelled of oil paint, tart tea, and freedom. Khosrow knew how to see beauty in the mundane and grandeur in the daily sufferings of ordinary people, rendering them immortal.

Soulful Warmth

Outside of exhibition halls and global recognition, he remained a remarkably simple, generous, and hospitable person, ready to give his last for the sake of a friend. Our communication was woven from long conversations, where silence was sometimes more eloquent than any words.

He possessed the rare gift of listening not just with his ears, but with his entire huge, loving heart. His advice did not consist of lectures; his words were gentle guideposts that helped me find solid ground during the darkest of times.

National Pride

Khosrow always emphasized his origin with pride, weaving together the cultural heritage of two great nations. His creativity became a bridge between traditional Eastern mysticism and sharp, relevant contemporary European art.

He deeply felt every injustice, and this inner pain was reflected in his eyes, which were full of wisdom and eternal longing. Yet, even in the most difficult moments, he was saved by a redeeming self-irony, subtle humor, and an endless faith in the triumph of the human spirit.

Eternal Legacy

Today, when he is physically no longer with us, I acutely feel a void that cannot be filled by anything else. However, looking at his immortal masterpieces, I feel that his vibrant energy, his rebellious spirit, and his love are still present here.

He taught me the most important lesson — never to betray one's inner truth and to cherish every moment of genuine human closeness. Our friendship became the ultimate blessing for me, a benchmark of sincerity, nobility, and true soulful beauty.

Years pass, the backdrops of life change, but the image of Khosrow Hassanzadeh remains an unshakeable beacon in my memory. I will never forget this great master, faithful friend, and man with a soul as vast as the universe itself.

He Never Abandoned His Homeland

Khosrow Hassanzadeh spent much of his life living and creating under the immense pressure of the theocratic political system of the Islamic Republic of Iran. He understood perfectly well the risks associated with artistic freedom, independent thought, and the courage to express one's convictions openly. Yet fear never dictated his life, his art, or his moral principles.

During our many meetings and countless conversations over the years, Khosrow repeatedly told me that he would never leave Iran to live permanently in exile. He never spoke these words as a political slogan or as a carefully crafted statement intended for journalists. They reflected a deeply personal conviction—a decision that came from the very core of his character and never changed throughout his life.

He often said to me that Iran was not simply the country in which he had been born. It was his Homeland, the land of his ancestors, the soil upon which generations of his family had lived, and the place where his spiritual roots were firmly planted. His childhood memories, his language, his culture, and the people among whom he had grown up were inseparable from his identity. Even when he profoundly disagreed with those who governed the country, he never ceased to love Iran itself.

From our personal conversations, I learned that Khosrow had received opportunities to leave Iran and settle permanently in several democratic countries. He told me that such proposals had been made on numerous occasions, including offers connected with the United Kingdom, where he would have been welcomed and granted protection. Other democratic nations were likewise prepared to receive him. Nevertheless, he consistently declined every invitation, despite fully understanding that life abroad would undoubtedly have offered him greater security, personal freedom, and professional opportunities.

His decision was never the result of political naïveté, nor did it stem from an underestimation of the dangers surrounding him. Khosrow clearly understood the nature of the political system under which he lived and was fully aware of the consequences that an independent artist could face. He experienced serious difficulties in his relations with governmental and religious authorities, encountered various forms of pressure and restriction, and nevertheless never considered permanent emigration to be part of his destiny.

For Khosrow, remaining in Iran did not mean surrendering to the political system. On the contrary, it meant remaining faithful to his homeland and to his people. He believed that a true artist should live among those whose lives inspire his work and whose hopes, struggles, and dreams become the subjects of his artistic expression. Simply by remaining in Iran, he demonstrated a quiet yet extraordinary form of moral courage.

What impressed me most was that Khosrow never attempted to create the public image of a professional political dissident. He never sought publicity through his disagreements with the authorities. He never tried to transform his personal hardships into a means of attracting international attention or gaining political recognition. Vanity, self-promotion, and theatrical political gestures were entirely foreign to his nature.

Many individuals chose to leave Iran and later, from the safety of democratic countries, presented themselves as representatives of the Iranian opposition. I do not judge those who were forced into exile to preserve their lives and the safety of their families. Every person's circumstances are different. Khosrow, however, chose another path. He remained inside his country, continued to live among his people, and expressed his convictions through his art, his personal integrity, and the quiet dignity of his daily life.

He confronted what he believed to be injustice, hypocrisy, and the humiliation of human dignity without resorting to hatred or violence. His paintings addressed complex social realities, the lives of ordinary people, the position of women, the memory of those who had suffered, the consequences of war, and the contradictions of contemporary Iranian society. Through artistic imagery, he expressed truths that many people under political and religious pressure were afraid even to whisper.

At the same time, Khosrow never allowed political disagreement to become hatred toward his own country. His criticism was directed not against Iran itself, nor against its ancient civilization or its people, but against those practices and policies that, in his view, deprived individuals of freedom, dignity, and justice. His love for Iran remained unwavering precisely because he believed his country deserved something better.

Khosrow fully understood that remaining in Iran could cost him his freedom, his career, and perhaps even his life. Yet he remained where he believed his duty lay. He never attempted to portray himself as a hero, nor did he speak about his personal courage in dramatic terms. That quiet humility made his strength even more remarkable. His courage was genuine because it was never performed for an audience.

Within him existed a rare harmony between profound love for his homeland and an uncompromising rejection of oppression. He refused to surrender Iran to political power or to allow any government to claim exclusive ownership of the nation's identity. For Khosrow, Iran was infinitely greater than any political regime. It was a civilization stretching back thousands of years, a magnificent culture, the memory of countless generations, and millions of ordinary people whose lives deserved dignity and hope.

Throughout my own life I have known many individuals who described themselves as opponents of authoritarian systems. Some spoke constantly about their bravery, sought public recognition, and transformed political biographies into instruments of personal promotion. Khosrow belonged to an entirely different generation of courageous people. He needed no grand titles, no political slogans, and no public applause. His life itself spoke more eloquently than any speech ever could.

For this reason, I remember him not only as an internationally respected artist but as a man of extraordinary moral strength. He defended the freedom of the human spirit while continuing to live inside a system that sought to regulate thought, culture, and artistic expression. His resistance was never a temporary political campaign. It became the defining principle of his entire life.

Today, now that Khosrow is no longer among us, the true greatness of his decision becomes even clearer. He could have left. He could have accepted protection, security, international recognition, and a peaceful life abroad. Instead, he chose to remain on the land of his ancestors. He stayed not because he feared change, nor because he accepted injustice, but because he loved Iran too deeply to abandon it.

For me, Khosrow Hassanzadeh will forever remain a living example of exceptional human dignity. He was never an opponent of the regime for the sake of fame, political ambition, or international attention. He was simply a free man who remained faithful to his homeland, continued to create honest art, and defended his convictions openly despite fully understanding the personal consequences that such integrity could bring.

That, above all else, was his true greatness.

He did not abandon Iran because he refused to surrender his Homeland to those whose political ideology he profoundly opposed. Until his final days, he remained a devoted son of his native land—its artist, its witness, and, in many ways, one of its enduring consciences.

I consider myself profoundly fortunate that destiny allowed me to know this remarkable man personally. His wisdom, our conversations, and the example of his life remain alive within my memory. To me, Khosrow Hassanzadeh will always be remembered not only as a dear friend and an outstanding artist, but as a man who demonstrated through his entire life that genuine love for one's homeland does not consist in unquestioning loyalty to those who hold power. It consists in remaining faithful to one's people, one's culture, the truth, and the eternal dignity of every human being.

May his courage, his art, and his memory live forever.