"The beat is pounding as he delivers a verse, in a home-made studio built in the closet. I'm not here on a trial run - I'm going to reach the peak - streets, nights, beats, they're my oxygen." The person at the microphone is a 17-year-old boy, with a dream of something big. His name is Abolfazl Yaghmouri. A kid from a working-class neighbourhood on the outskirts of Tehran, he rapped as he reflected on the pain in his life: "The problems don't stop. I was there for everyone, but no one showed up