I went to the park today with mom. I ran a bit and then walked. My arms and shoulders still hurt from picking up the suitcases.
Again I started comparing. This time America and Iran. I was very upset in Iran because I noticed the unfairness. I always knew it, but knowing is different than seeing. When you see, you understand. You really understand. So I saw and I wasn’t happy to see a country falling apart.
In the park today I told mom about my journey. I told her how I felt. She felt the same, she understood me. That’s all I can write right now. My mind is somewhere else…

Pretty soon I will leave Belgium. To be exact it will be Tuesday, July 22nd. This time I will go back to America. I should start saying “home”, but no matter how hard I try I can never call anywhere home except Iran. Part of me is still there.
I talked to my mom yesterday. She said she is waiting for me. To be honest I don’t miss America, I miss my parents and the life I have there. There’s a bit of fear in me everytime I have to go back to that life. It is the fear of school, work, and other things. I often feel lonely in America without my sister and brothers. I always feel the need for them to be with me.

When I was leaving Iran I realized how fast the minutes vanished. One minute I was in my house, talking to them for the last time, laughing, and crying. The next minute I was flying.
Is life always like this? Has it been in such fast speed all along or was it just me who didn’t realize? Everything is in fast speed and ends quick.
I am planning to go see the world. I want to go to Mecca, Egypt, China, Japan, evey single country. I want to live long. I always wonder what happens after this life. Is there reincarnation?
In Iran they say they will go to heaven because they are already in hell.
I also wonder who I would have been if I never lived in Iran. Would I have known what freedom is? Would I have cared about the world?

I feel safe, protected, invisible, and happy. No one can see my smile, no one can read my mind. No one can stare at me. No one can touch me. No one can see my tears. It is a short yet sweet escape. It is an escape from reality. An escape from all sounds and all voices. Under the water is the best place to rest in. To forget pain, pressure, sorrow, and all feelings. It is a short escape.

Yesterday we went to a park nearby. The parks in Europe are way different than the parks in Iran. In Iran the people have to sit or walk. In Europe they can lie on the grass; women in bikinies, men shirtless. They can ride boats on the lake without being afraid of falling into the water. They can kiss under the trees and no one will ever care. They can sleep under the sun and …
This is freedom. Freedom is a word full of meanings. In some places freedom is closing the doors to music but letting humans breath. In others freedom is having a life with no remarks, no forces that tell you what to do, how to dress, or what not to write. I come from a country without freedom. That’s why I know what freedom actually is.

I still think about my last moments in Tehran. I loved being there. It made me alive. I loved the food, the music, and the ground in which I stepped on.
Iran had changed and I had changed with it. I realized even more how lucky I was to live outside of Iran. I wish I could have stayed. I wish I could stay.
In the plane I took one last look at the big Tehran and cried. I felt very lonely. I left part of me in Tehran. I left my heart so I could make our house alive again.

I have said this word many times. Each time I said it I felt sad. I felt like nothing could make me happy. It has been the hardest word to say and pronounce, yet I have said it.
I will leave Iran next Thursday. I’m trying to prepare myself to say good-bye. I’m trying hard not to feel disappointed or sorry.
I will miss every single person. I will miss our house once again. I will miss the people with their troubled faces, and their torn lives. I do, however, believe that they can survive. I wish them the best of luck. I wish that Iran would be that “Great Persia” again.
When I was in the plane to Tehran, I thought wow, I’m finally home! Now it is time to go back.
Everything ends at some point. Some things stay in our hearts forever, some walk out of our memories. This trip will never leave my memory nor will it leave my heart. I hope people remember their nationality and their home land because that?s where their life started. To me Iran is the greatest country. I don’t care who ruled and who made it a mess. I care about where I stepped when I was a child and didn’t now what life was. I care about what it meant to me when I walked in the streets holding my mother’s hand. I care about what it felt like to be home, the safest place for a kid. I care about how hard it was to leave Iran, almost knowing it will be permanent.

In America when people vote for their president they accept him even if he does something not too great. The government respects people’s privacy. It might not do exactly what the people want, but at least they give them the freedom of speech, petition?
In Iran not only do they not respect people?s privacy, they don’t give them any sort of freedom. They easily enter one?s private life and question them rudely.
When I was little my parents complained about the regime, but I didn’t know why. I thought why? What have they done? Now everything is clear and right in front of my eyes. It is clear why Iran is getting worst everyday, it is clear why there is no hope left for people.

My journey home is coming to an end. I have to pack very soon. It is what I was most afraid to do. The minute I stepped to my home town I knew that I would have to leave once again. It was a thought I could never escape. I endeavored to think only of my stay and not my leaving.

Continue reading Let the Rain Come Down and Wash Away My Tears

When I go back to the place where my home once was, I will carefully look and absorb things with my eyes. I will write down every thing that catches my eyes. My mom told me to look carefully because I won’t see the same things I see here. I have to try to remember everything so that I will know how much I have to be thankful for once I get back. For me this trip will not be like any other trip that I ever went to. This will be different. This trip will bring back many memories and the fact that I no longer live there hurts a bit. And that is because I have to see my people without the things I have. That will be very hard to take.