June 2003

Today was another visit to the most beautiful place I have ever seen in Iran. This place is the location of palaces of the previous kings of Iran. These palaces are gorgeous with a magnificent view. As you walk down the hill you are surrounded by trees. Some of these palaces have pools. Then there is river running down below. There are also a couple of museums.
I was walking down there and I was in awe. I never imagined such a beautiful place in Iran. This is because back when I was little we were mostly in the streets of Tehran and there wasn’t much beauty. As I looked around I noticed how much I really wanted to stay there. How much I wanted to spend every minute walking down that beautiful hill surrounded by beauty and knowing my family is there including all my cousins. Yet again I can not live there. I just can’t. It is too sad to even say it to myself, but it is the truth. Unfortunately I can?t have everything I want. I don’t think anyone does.
I’m not displeased. I’m not sad. I’m actually very happy because I got to live two very beautiful lives, each one nice in its own ways, each missing something big. I accept it because that is what my life is. It is still enjoyable. I have so many things to be thankful for. And I have to say that I love my life.

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The city is crowded. It is full of people going many different ways. Each individual looks different. The women have to cover their hair. Some cover it fully, others cover it half way. Some have no make up at all, others have a lot on. Some wear bright colors and tight clothes, others wear black and loose clothes. These women have not accomplished what they were after. These women did not have their dreams come true. These women are after something more, something better. Their identity is hidden by their covered faces and bodies. Their emotions are beneath the make-up. Their eyes are used to the everyday show, they can’t look any further for a change. These women have to deal with stares and remarks by some men everyday. These women have no rights. They have no freedom. These women are smart and talented, but unfortunately no one can see it. No one gives them an opportunity to show-off their talents. They have to keep it to themselves. These women are hard working. They don,t give up. They walk through the crowded city, go through the heat while wearing too many clothes, go through remarks and stares, go through traffic, and every other obstacle, yet they still walk and hold their heads high to show that they are not afraid.

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My eyes are open
To see what they missed
In four years.
They missed the traffic
The mountains
And the familiar faces
My ears listen
To hear what they missed
In four years.
They missed the birds
The cars
And the voices of many
My lips had forgotten
The delicious taste of
Ice-cream
My hands missed the handles
Of taxies and the key
To my unforgotten house
I missed a lot of things
While I was away
But I didn’t forget a thing.

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As I walked up the stairs I thought of the last time I had been in our house. It was a long time ago, about four years ago. I had been 11 years-old. I had such great memories in our house and in every part of Tehran that I had been to.
For a long while I thought that I’m dreaming. I thought that I’m just in a beautiful dream. Even though I constantly thought it is a dream, I knew it was real.

Continue reading My House In Tehran

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