Longing
Longing Until a person leaves, they don't know what a homeland is made of. You think you'll miss your home, your mother, the street where you grew up. Then one day, a thousand leagues a…
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Editorial coverThe Qanat and the Tunnel
It is striking how differently people use the same earth. Both cut through the heart of a mountain. Both move forward underground, in darkness. Both spend years sweating over the work,…
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Getting Together Has Lost Its Scent
Getting together has lost its scent… Damn the Islamic Republic for shrinking our gatherings at Grandma’s house, and the people in them, until all that remained was a chat group called “…
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I Will No Longer Fix My Eyes on the Horizon of Wishes
And I will no longer fix my eyes on the horizon of wishes… My hand will no longer turn prayer beads in hopes of a cure… I will no longer keep silent when I am humiliated in the name of…
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Iranians at Home and Abroad
Years ago, the distance between Iranians at home and those living abroad was so great, and it hurt. Those at home saw the people abroad as free and untouched by pain. Those abroad, shor…
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There Is a Chapter in My Life Story That Many People Know as Pain
There is a chapter in the history book of my life that holds a pain many people share. I was a son who loved his family, especially his mother. But… in her last days, I was miles and mi…
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My Iran, Just Smile
My Iran, I ask nothing of you… just smile… My Iran, I am your child, a child who grew tall and strong in your name… I write to tell you this: I ask nothing of you. Just smile… I do not…
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My Iran… Hold On
My Iran… hold on… Your freedom is close… Hold on as you hear your people’s bones breaking… Hold on through your parched soil and the water shortages… I know they sold even your tears… H…
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Editorial coverA Bitter Truth
What has happened to us…? What a fever there was… The streets were packed. Video after video came in, and we cried and said, “It’s coming to an end…” News, videos, demonstrations, one a…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverI See This Year Differently
I see this year differently. In the year gone by, my eyes lit up with flashes of light and hope. My heart knew grief and pain, but it also laughed its fill and came into bloom. In the y…
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We Have to Walk in the Rain
For years I heard people say, or saw in movies and television, how wonderful it was to walk in the rain. Whenever it rained, especially at night, something in me shifted. The truth is,…
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Playing with My Little Girl
A few days ago it was the weekend, and it was raining. I couldn’t take my daughter out, so I had to keep her entertained. First we decided to make pizza together. We laughed as we chopp…
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Flying
For as long as I can remember, awake or asleep, I’ve wanted to fly. No, don’t misunderstand me. I don’t mean in a plane, or with equipment. I wanted to spread my arms and fly peacefully…
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I Will See You Soon
Perhaps you will cry when you read this, but they will be tears of joy, because… I will see you soon. We will walk a little way together… and say nothing. We will come to a stream by th…
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Missing My Mother
A few days ago, someone asked me what memory of my mother I missed most. I said, “Not memories, exactly. I miss the times she couldn’t be there.” “The times she couldn’t be there? What…
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The Extinction of Snowmen
How beautiful it was in the old days when snow fell and the alleys filled with snowmen who always smiled at you… By burning mazut, polluting the air, and ruining this land, the Islamic…
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Editorial coverFor Myself… Read It or Don’t
My dear mother, forgive me. Forgive me for the years that passed when I wasn’t there. Forgive me for the days I behaved badly, for a son’s unkindness. Forgive me for the games that made…
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A Dandelion Beside the Road to School
Today I was walking home from school with my daughter. She saw a dandelion in a little garden by the road, stopped, and said, “Dad, wait a second…” She picked it, smiled up at the sky f…
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The House Had No Father While the Nation Slept
The house had no father while the nation slept… The father was there, but the nation slept… However often he said, “My people, dawn is near,” The nation, in pain and sorrow, could not r…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverA Conversation Between Earth and Sky
The earth looked up at the sky with dignity and groaned that thirst had brought her to the edge of death… The sky roared. The clouds lined up like army battalions, and the drops marched…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverBitter but True
If tomorrow Majidreza, Nika, Sarina, and those whose names live forever from the struggle for Iran’s freedom woke from their eternal sleep and asked us, “Was it worth giving our lives a…
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Why Take a Photograph?
He asked the photographer, “Why should we take a picture?” “To make moments last forever,” the photographer said. “But moments pass for us. When we die, what good is a photograph that l…
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Dad or Mom?
As a child I always hated this question: “Who do you love more, your dad or your mom?” “Your sister or your brother?” I always said, “Why do I have to choose one?” Then, fifteen years a…
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I Am the Green Algae by the Gutter
I am that green algae at the edge of the gutter. I know that today or tomorrow the water will wash me away. I know that at dusk I will be crushed beneath the feet of passersby, weary of…
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Dad?
“Dad…?” “Yes, sweetheart?” “Dad, have you ever bwoken someone’s heart?” She meant “broken.” “As far as I remember, I’ve tried not to break anyone’s heart.” “Nobody at all?” “I don’t kno…
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Tired of the Murmurs of Those Who Have Not Read
I am tired of the murmurs of those who have not read, when pain is a guest in their own home. Tired of the nights and streets of strangers, and a house of stone where God has no life. T…
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The Music Shop
There were dozens of instruments in the music shop, but no music. There was a tar, but no one to play it. Two or three divans, stamped with their maker’s mark, stood in a corner of the…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverThe Smell of Ahvaz
This morning, after breakfast, we got ready to go shopping. When we stepped outside, the air was a little humid. Suddenly my daughter said, “Oh, Dad, it smells like Ahvaz…” The smell of…
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My Iran
My Iran… Without you today, I feel like a weary old man sitting in a boat stranded patiently on the dry bed of a river… He knows that free-flowing water once ran here. He knows both ban…
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The Piano Keys
Look at the keys of a piano. Some are white and some are black. Some are longer, some shorter. But each has its own sound, its own note, entirely unique. You can strike one key over and…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverYou Who Will Dance in Freedom Tomorrow
You who will dance the dance of freedom in my tomorrow, You whose broad smile will make my Iran flourish, Blood has been spilled to reclaim our homeland, my friends; It falls to you to…
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Plastic Balls in the Alley
Back when we were children playing in the alley, those plastic balls were flimsy. We’d put two, sometimes three, inside one another to make a ball we could play with. Instead of grievin…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverA Rambling Poem Without Rhyme by Khan Dadash
If today I plunge into the sea of this unclean fight, I will stake my life and heart on this fearless face Until the day I wake and kiss the soil, The day I become a thorn in Zahhak’s e…
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Real
Last night my daughter asked me, “Dad… why do you stay up so late? Why don’t you talk like you used to? Why are you so impatient?” “I’ve had a lot to do, sweetheart,” I said. “But it’ll…
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An Unrhymed Poem by Khan Dadash
A poem from Khan Dadash’s heart, full of things to say, though it has no rhyme. How beautiful it is to walk, yet today there are no streets in my city. There are no cups in the city caf…
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Superstition or Cultural Poverty
Warning: This is one of the bitterest stories I have written, drawn from a true story… The word father is sacred to me, to you, perhaps to many others. A father is someone you can lean…
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They Chose for Us All Our Lives
All our lives, they chose for us… What we should say, what we should wear, what we should read… They chose what we should worship, where we should go, who we should go with, and why. Th…
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Black and White
In those days, so many people were looking for black and white. They saw one person as white, another as black. Someone who had been white turned black; someone who had been black faded…
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Migration Means…
Migration means… (Forgive the weight of grief in this piece, but it is the truth.) “Hello… can you hear me?” “Yeah, I can. How are you? What’s new? How’s Iran?” “Iran is the same, broth…
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Living on Memories
My generation took comfort in our grandparents’ memories of the Shah’s time, but we never got to live it. What will we tell the next generation? That we stayed silent? That they beat us…
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My Daughter’s Little Fist
I was walking with my daughter in the park when something caught my eye. I looked at her small, delicate hand… “Sweetheart, make a fist,” I said. She did, then said, “Dad, you make one…
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The Secondhand Shop Story
The secondhand shop story. (Read carefully, and take your time.) A few days ago, I was walking down the street… I spotted a shop that looked like a secondhand store and went up to the w…
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A Call to the Prison
“Hello… have I got the right number? Is this the prison?” “Yes, sir, you have. How can I help?” “I’d like to speak to a prisoner…” “We only have one prisoner here. Her name is Iran, and…
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On a Park Bench with My Daughter
I was sitting with my daughter on a bench in the park near our house, thinking about writing a new story… “Dad… are you okay?” “Yes, sweetheart… I’m okay…” “If that’s true, why don’t yo…
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Being Someone’s Shelter
All my life I turned to a friend, to my mother, to my father, asking them to be my shelter, to stay beside me. Now that I am a father myself, someone to lean on, I understand how my fat…
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The Streets Had All Changed
All the street names had changed. I struggled from alley to alley, asking directions, until I reached his door. I was terribly anxious. I didn’t know what I would say if he opened it, o…
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Does My Writing Make a Difference?
I don’t know whether everything I do will matter in the end. I don’t even know whether it has any effect on our revolution or Iran’s tomorrow. We don’t know if tomorrow, or the next gen…
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Saman, Behnam, and Aria
Saman, Behnam, and Aria were three friends who had lived and grown up together for years. One day Behnam and Aria clashed badly. They fought, then fell out with each other. It got so ba…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverFor Lady Shirin
Perhaps this will be my last letter to you. I write, though sadly it is too late. I write so it will remain: I loved you, and I still do. I said it so seldom, and I could never say it e…
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Me and Myself
I stood before the mirror and looked at myself. “You’ve grown so old,” I said. “You’ve changed so much this past year.” “Yes, I’ve changed a lot,” he said. “What have you done to yourse…
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It Was Almost Morning and I Still Hadn’t Slept
It was almost morning, and I still hadn’t slept. I got up and went to the shore. The sea was restless too, as though it waited for the sun in a strange fever of anticipation. The wind h…
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The Day I Return
The story of the day I return… The cabin lights had been turned off, and almost everyone was asleep. A few people were watching movies. I could neither sleep nor bring myself to watch a…
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Hello… Can You Still Hear Me?
“Hello… can you still hear me?” “Yes, I can.” “Good. What is it like there?” “I told you, this is a place that burns people’s hearts. “Here, you say something is against the law, and th…
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When This Land Was in Unworthy Hands
When this land was in unworthy hands… My only sin was to exist… Being Iranian was a sin… Loving my homeland was a crime. Happiness was a sin, and pain my only possession, my only norm.…
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My King
My king… Sit beside me a while, so I can talk to you. Let me ask what you did to my heart. What made me so devoted to you? Do you know that every time I see a photograph of you, pain, s…
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Let This Be a Keepsake for Tomorrow’s Iranians
Let this be a keepsake for tomorrow’s Iranians… Hello, Lady Sun. How are you? Lady Sun, I know that when I am gone, you will still be here. I know that whatever we have done to your chi…
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I Read This Somewhere Today
I read this somewhere today… Not every butcher can skin a hide skillfully. Not everyone who shares your bread and salt becomes a friend. Not every passerby can be trusted with your secr…
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Our Iran Has Oil and Gas
Our Iran has oil and gas! Our Iran has seas and lakes, gardens and plains! Our Iran has Damavand, Sahand, and the Arvand River! Our Iran has forests and deserts! Our Iran… But our Iran……
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The Old Man and the Park Bench
One evening I was walking through a park. My legs hurt, so I walked slowly with a cane. I sat on a bench beside the lake to catch my breath and watch the ducks dance. A young woman sat…
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May the King of My Heart Come Home
Until yesterday, if I breathed in the silence of my grief without a cry, if snow's whiteness and the scent of orange blossom meant nothing to me, if I lived my waking hours only to fall…
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A Nowruz for a New Iran
This Nowruz feels different. A Nowruz for a new Iran. My beloved Iran, ancient land of light, fire, and spring. As the new year begins and the spring wind comes down from the Alborz Mou…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverOnly a Few Steps from Freedom's Shore
I want to talk with you for a moment. My fellow Iranian, my friend, a part of me: remember this day. Remember all we have endured on the winding road to freedom for our Iran, all the bl…
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For Shahbanu Farah Pahlavi
In the name of my motherland, Iran... For the mother of my country, Iran's Shahbanu, Farah Pahlavi, @ShahbanouFarah Mother, forgive me for never kissing your hand or speaking to you. Fo…
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The Art of Balancing Stones and Standing Together
Important 🚨 The art of balancing stones and the victory of Iran's national revolution Look closely at this photograph and stay with me for a few lines. I think its lesson matters both…
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A Letter from the Heart to My Shah
A reflection for my Shah, @PahlaviReza I opened my eyes in a world beneath a dark sky. They told me rain meant mercy and peace. The rain fell for years, and grief settled in my heart. O…
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The Ache of Living Far Away
Emigration for a better life? But what does 'better' mean? It means leaving your family behind. Your mother and father become faces framed by a phone screen. It means instant coffee ins…
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I Miss the Lanes of My City
I miss the backstreets of my city. The narrow lanes with a water channel down the middle and yellow autumn leaves. I miss the warmth of our neighbors, my grandmother, her red basket ful…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverYalda Night and a Candle of Hope
What Yalda nights we once had... Pomegranates and watermelon... Candles and evenings of poetry... Love, warmth, and the Shahnameh... Grandmother's stories around the korsi, the family g…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverWhat I Want for Iran's Young People
I want an Iranian young person's greatest worry to be finding the right provisions for life aboard an Iranian space station on Mars, not reciting prayers and paying religious dues in th…
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The Power of Media Propaganda
The power of media propaganda Let me begin with a question. This is genuinely worth reading, so stay with me while we unpack it. Who invented electricity? Who transformed human life? Th…
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The Torch of Freedom
Have you ever watched the Olympic torch? How much it resembles our revolution and our road to freedom. The flame never goes out, not because it has an endless supply of fuel, but becaus…
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The Book of Our Road to Freedom
The road to freedom for our Iran is a book of history, full of mystery, written by our own hands. To write it chapter by chapter, line by line, we have had to live through so many rises…
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A Hundred Years from Now
This year is 2582 in the Iranian imperial calendar. A hundred years from now, in 2682, all of us, even our friends and those around us, will be in the ground. Perhaps no memory of us wi…
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Our People Are Our Greatest National Treasure
Over the years we have spoken again and again of the human and environmental disasters caused by the Islamic Republic, and nothing changed. We have talked and wept over what has happene…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverA Brief Look at History and Iran's Unity
Lately I have been looking back at Iran's history to understand the present: at Cyrus and Darius the Great, Nader Shah, Karim Khan Zand, and finally Reza Shah the Great. Their eras cann…
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The Train That Will Rebuild Iran
I have heard some people despair of Iran and our people. They say that even after freedom, Iran will never be Iran again. My answer is firm: do not twist the argument. What Reza Shah th…
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When I Look at Photographs of Royal Iran
Whenever I see old photographs from the years of royal Iran, a strange lump rises in my throat. I sigh and ask myself: will those days ever come back? Will our Iran ever know dignity an…
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The Mirage of a Virtual Life
The virtual world let us feel like the people we wished to be, without ever becoming them. One person, with empty pockets, walked through a million-dollar mansion. Another became a moth…
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The Birth of a Free Iran
Let us look at the revolution through another image. The birth of a child is one of nature's most beautiful events, and one of its most painful. Stay with me for a moment. In the hours…
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I Choose to Be Iranian
My choice today is neither this nor that, neither a reckless war nor the green of the Guards. Not the arched brow and polished suit, not the tyrant's false mark of piety on his forehead…
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Returning to Our Own Future
After the upheaval of 1979, each spring felt more wintry than the last. No summer brought a holiday for working children. At the end of each autumn, we counted not chicks, but those we…
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Selling Fear, Promising Rescue
A company, or even a government, often relies on two broad ways to promote itself and keep its position secure. The first is to magnify its supposed achievements: 'Look what we've done.…
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The Rocks Near Shore
Important 🚨🚨🚨 We believe the Islamic Republic's forty-five-year nightmare is nearing its end. Our boat is close to the shore of freedom and dignity. The sight of land has filled us w…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverThe Pain of Losing Ourselves
Our pain began the day we lost our identity in our own home. The day they called us strangers. The day they drowned our song in running water. The day they chained the dancer in Grandmo…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverQa'em-Maqam Farahani and History Repeating
While reading about the life of Qa'em-Maqam Farahani, I came across something striking. When the British realized they could neither buy nor manipulate a patriot like him, they reported…
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The Pahlavi Legacy and Iran's Tomorrow
Across Iran's long history, there is much splendor to remember with pride, as familiar to Iranian hearts as an enduring song. Yet perhaps no era shines more brightly in our historical m…
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Why Did the Shah Leave?
Why did the Shah leave? Why did Shahanshah Aryamehr, who loved Iran so deeply, choose to go? I believe he knew that after those dark days, one hope would remain for Iran's future. He le…
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Let Us Take Our Place in the Final Act
Please take a few minutes to read this. 👇🏼👇🏼👇🏼 My fellow Iranian, my friend, a part of me: there is little time left. If we sit with folded hands, our history will fill with painf…
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My Ancestral Home
Love of country means... An endless alley. However far or fast you run from it, the moment you turn your head, the wooden door of your ancestral home is still there, open or closed, alw…
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From Longing for the Past to Hope of Return
I want to share a feeling that comes over me every day as I scroll through Twitter. Whenever I see photographs of Shahanshah Aryamehr and Reza Shah the Great, my chest aches and grief r…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverGoodbye, My Country
I looked out the window. A Turkish song was playing in the car. No one spoke. We were nearing the airport. I was still in shock, and I could barely catch my breath. Was this the last ti…
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Thank You for Your Light
You know? I was alone until that night when I stood in silence and darkness, looking at the street and the shuttered shops. Then, one sunny day, a friend said, 'Let's take to the street…
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If Only I Could Be Myself
I wish I did not need a pen and my hands to say what is in my heart. I wish I could speak these feelings aloud, shout them, and be heard. I wish I did not have to hide behind a mask, or…
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Speaking to God
God. Yes, I mean you. They say you sit up there claiming to be just. Look down here. Look at my Iran. Come on, damn it, look at the mess you made. Look at what my people have endured un…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverExile at Home
Exile. An accursed word, and one that has no single place on the map for Iranians. The one who said goodbye to the soil of home and the scent of a mother's clothes and went abroad; the…
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The Crown and a New Iran
When Reza Shah the Great put on the crown, he set Iran on a path of rebuilding and renewal. That crown stood for thousands of years of Iranian dignity and grandeur. It meant Iran, you,…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverEnver Hoxha and the Shadow of Dictatorship
Today I was reading about Enver Hoxha, one of history's most notorious dictators. He ruled Albania for more than forty years under a communist government, leaving bloodshed, repression,…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverThe Danger of Celebrating Too Soon
In war, people often suffer their worst blow when they celebrate too early. They think they have won, only to be caught off guard by a surprise attack and defeated. History has seen it…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverLinks in the Chain of Freedom
To me, no contribution carries more or less weight than another. We are all links in a chain, and only together can we keep the chain of Iran's freedom intact. Whether we create content…
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The Land of Kings
In the land of kings, the Shahanshah called every Iranian a king and gave them the glory of the Lion and Sun so they might live like royalty. Then a faction came, renamed the land of ki…
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To My Beautiful Motherland, Iran
To my beautiful motherland Iran In distant lands, where sun and sand entwine, A tale of bravery echoes through the line. For freedom's call, a nation's heart does beat, In Iran, where c…
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The Last Generation of Darkness
We were the first generation to love a king we had never seen, to serve a king who was not in his own country, to fight so we might be the last generation to see Iran without a monarchy…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverThe Weight of Political Decisions
Lately I have heard influential friends admit mistakes and say that humans make mistakes, and that being open to criticism is a virtue. But some mistakes carry an unacceptable cost, my…
Read the piece ↗Editorial coverThe Day the Prison Doors Open
I think of the day the doors of Iran's political prisons open, when we tell those held inside, “We have freed our Iran,” and of the tears we will shed. I think of history repeating itse…
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On Reza Shah II's Birthday
Today, let us join in celebrating the birthday of Reza Shah II. May every word carry our gratitude for his years of dedication to our beloved Iran. To us, he is a ray of hope against th…
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Tea in a Free Iran
If I survive, and one day we sit together drinking tea in a café in the heart of a free Iran, I will tell you how hard and how slowly these days passed. But remember, whether or not I a…
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I Will Not Pray for Freedom
Remember: I will not pray for my country's freedom. I will not beg for my people to be allowed to breathe. I read and learn, because today's darkness grew out of the ignorance and super…
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What We Leave Behind Is Iran's Freedom
My comrades and I will leave behind no statues, no names, no insignia. Only two words: Iran's freedom. I believe that legacy will endure through the Pahlavi monarchy. To the generations…
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