Iranian filmmaker Massoud Bakhshi's perplexing memories of his youth, which he shares with the viewer by way of a calm, eloquent voice-over. His memories aren't all idyllic by a long shot, and his sharp observations often turn the metaphorical knife in the wound. At the center of his family history is a Persian rug that his grandmother once wove. His adopted uncle, a man with whom the family has a very difficult relationship, offers this carpet as a present to the filmmaker, only to renege sometime later. The incident sets in motion memories of Bakhshi's father, who was no friend of his uncle. One day, his father left and was never heard from again; two years later, his mother identified his body with 24 bullets in it. Bakhshi has nightmares every night and takes pills to clear his mind. He obsessively leafs through photo albums to see which of his family members are lying and which are telling the truth. In whatever case, no one is talking.