Rain often times makes me gloomy. I feel trapped and the atmosphere automatically becomes depressing. I loved rainy days when I was a child. I loved it because we almost never had rain in Tehran. Summer days were blazing hot; winters were just cold. Rain was something people had to pray for, especially those who lived in Southern Iran. For them rain is pleasure, fun, different, even freedom to some extent. I remember how I used to look out the window and reach out to feel the raindrops on my fingertips. Sometimes it would be pouring immensely and I would feel a sudden rush of excitement. Those days I loved rain; I wanted so much to walk in the rain. But now, here in America, the excitement I used to feel for rain is gone.
The first thing I think about when I wake up is coffee. I love the smell, but I mostly love the comfort it provides. It makes me forget what is happening in the outside world. It makes me feel okay. It reminds me that I am alive and that I have a lot to be thankful for. During the day, I edit web content. At night and on weekends, I sing and jam with a guitarist. And somewhere in between the day, I write. I write about my immigration to the States as a child. I write about my father growing older and my fear of losing him. I write about the common loss immigrants share. What I would like to achieve mostly is to become a better person. I like to help make the world a better place. I am bothered by poverty and homelessness. I am bothered by inequality. As a woman growing up in the Middle East, I naturally became a feminist. I care about women's rights, their ability to voice their thoughts, to sing freely. I love connecting to people. I love hearing their stories. If you have an idea for something I could write or something I can do to help, or if you need music for a small gathering, please message me. View all posts by Elle