





It was the time of a revolution in your history
the darkness was the destiny of my generation
happiness and prosperity were just memories
I was in love with light
I choose to fight with darkness
I started to run the road of the hope
The road was not easy
The road is not easy
The road won't be easy
I am tired
I am hurt
I am burned
I miss the smell of my home
I miss the taste of pomegranates
I miss the sound of Tar
I faced many challenges
I felt many sad moments
I heard many discriminations
I was alone
I was alone
I was alone
Now, after 12 years
I and you
Son and mother
will meet
I won't tell you about
my sadness
my loneliness
my ...
and, you
don't cry for me
because after all this pains
I never stopped loving you
These formulas are forming my moments these days.
I am tired and I am thinking what life would be like if we just didn't have any formulas?
What would we do if we could live in a life full of personal experiments instead of other people's laws?
Well, it is obvious that maybe science wouldn't work. There wouldn't be any bridges standing or any planes flying, but let's look at it in ideological terms.
Why should we have all these rules for life? Why should we follow the path that has been told to us for generations? Why when we do something different form the imposed way of thinking, suddenly they call us not normal?
Well, I have no answers for it. Maybe it is a good thing that we are just followers, or maybe not. I can answer that question better when I am older, but I am sure about something--"life has no book of instructions."
We were born free, we live by own personal logic, and we die by expiration of our destiny. I guess I'd better get back to my engineering formulas, because those x's and y's will bring bread to my table.
Nighty night!
Today, finally I am calm, happy and grateful. I have a new home, new life and new destiny, and still after 12 years I get a chance to see, touch and breath my old life. less than 20 days I will be walking in crowd and crazy streets of Tehran, I will be smelling the roses of Kerman and eating pomegranates of shabe yalda in my very own home.
For first time in my life I get a chance to not be alone and still be free.
I am going to my old home with precious gift of freedom.

It Is time to raise again from ashes of the Bushes
لبخند مي زنم و مي گويم: هشت سال دوري از خانواده و دوازده سال دوري از كشور مادري امִ الان بچه هايي در فاميل هستن كه ١٢ سال دارن و من هنوز نديدمشانִ برادرم اون موقع كه پسر بچه ١٠ ساله اي بود الان ٢٢ ساله شدهִ بزرگ هاي فاميل فوت كردن بدون اينكه من حتي بتوانم در مراسم تدفين اون ها باشمִ كوچكتر ها الان بزرگ شدن و ازدواج كردن و من نتوانستم در شادي هاشون شريك باشمִ١٢ سال زندگي ادامه داشته و من فقط يك عكس و يا يك خاطره براشون بودمִ
اشك جلوي چشمانم را مي گيرد, او دستي روي شانه ام مي كشد و مي گويد: الان كه مي خواهي بعد از ١٢ سال برگردي چه احساسي داري؟
به انگشتر فيروزه اي كه ١٢ سال پيش بهترين دوستم هنگام رفتنم از ايران بهم داد و اين روز ها همه جا با خودم مي برمش خيره ميشوم و مي گويم: مي ترسمִ مي ترسم كه براي هميشه فراموش شده باشمִ مي ترسم كه برايشون غريبه باشمִ مي ترسم كه ١٢ سال دوري رو نتوانم با ٣٠ روز همراهي جبران كنمִ مي ترسم كه با شخصيت جديدم روبه رو شومִ مي ترسم كه شخصيتي كه ١٢ سال تلاطم و تنهايي اون رو ساخته با شخصيت هاي اون ها خيلي متفاوت باشهִ از ديدن صورت مادرم كه ٨ سال از آخرين باري كه در ايتاليا ديدمش مي گذرد, مي ترسمִ مي ترسم كه نتوانم با برادرم كه ديگر اون بچه كوچولوي قديمي نيست رابطه برقرار كنمִ تمام وجودم اين روزها پر است از ترس و دلهرهִ نمي دانم كه وقتي مي بينمشان چي بگم و چكار كنمִ مي ترسم كه وقت كافي نداشته باشم كه حرف هاي ١٢ سال پستي و بلندي, شكست و پيروزي, خنده و گريه, غربت و طلاق را با اون ها كه عزيزترين هايم هستن بزنم و بجايش سكوت كنم و اون همه زخم رو براي هميشه در درون خودم نگه دارمִ آخه ١٢ سال كم نيستִ
ابروهايش را بالا مي اندازد و مي گويد: باور كردنش براي من سخت استִ اين همه سختي اين همه تنهايي به چه قيمتي؟
با صدايي يواش مي گويم: به قيمت آزاد زندگي كردنִ
اما ما بزرگ شديمִ جنگ تمام شد, بابات هيچ وقت بر نگشت و ما همچنان منتظريمִ