یکشنبه، تیر ۱۹، ۱۳۸۴

Nostalgia


when you come here, pretty soon, you get nostalgic. It never goes away. It just doesn't matter what yo do. You can try to make your environment look and feel like what it used to.
It will never work. You will never succeed. You know you don't belong in here and it doesn't matter how good your english is. It doesn't matter if you dress like people here or do what they do, talk like they talk, walk like they walk.

Nothing can take the place of the real thing. Lookalikes and makebelieves don't work.
You can never feel at home unless you are at home.

There is no good reason why an Iranian shouldn't live in Iran. Iran is where I was born, my father was born there, so was my mother. So was their father and mother. One of my grand fathers, I am sure fought at some war to defend Iran. One of my distant cousins died so that I have a country called Iran.

My parents taught me to speak farsi. My teachers taught me to write farsi and to read farsi.

I learned to read Persian poems.

My ancestors were born in Iran, they lived in Iran, they died in Iran.
My parents paid taxes to the Iranian government.
My brother and cousin fought to defend Iran.

Whatever oppourtunities are in Iran, I have a right to have a share.
In my country,I have a right to believe in whatever I want to believe and I have a right to live my life the way I see it fit, just as long as my lifestyle doesn't harm the society I live in.

Iran is where home is. Home is not a place. Home is an idea. Home is something that is related to feelings, to memories and to an identity. Home is not only about Geography, it is also
about History.

No one should give up on his or her home. You only have one, and it is irreplaceable.

If the situation is tough to make a living, You have to do your best to contribute to the making of a better Iran. That could mean going abroad to get the neccessary tools, insight and equipment.

Am I practicing what I am preaching ? After all talk is cheap and easy.

I am right now, powerless. I am like a boat caught up in the storm in the middle of ocean.

I don't know where this life will take me. I just don't know.

۱ نظر:

me گفت...

What can I say? I can not believe someone that I even don't know, thinks so much like me. I lived the whole story: the feeling that you do not belong here, the feeling of losing your roots some where and becoming someone else; the feeling that I should come back as soon as I got enough tools....

درباره من

Read my notes here, you'll know all you need to know.