Memories

I remember the song, singing of all the trees, which lent this land their shadow once

I remember the sparrows, telling the myth of spring to all the trees, paralized by the drought

I remember a gentle wind, singing tales of a free sky to the sparrows, lost in the long lasting gap between winter and spring

I even remeber your voice, humming every last bit of any lost dream in the wind, which you could find somewhere on the barren land

And Now Finally the 27!

I still can not make up my mind, in which stage of life my mind dwells. A Child, as my Flute Maestro calls me 'the kid'? A young girl? Or maybe even a woman?

I never thought it felt so strange to be 27, eventhough it has always been a very special age for me, since my mom was 27 when I was born; I was the one to turn her into a Mother when she was 27 years old. I do not see it within me to become a mother, not yet. But lately I see a woman standing next to the child inside me sometimes, not a girl, but a young woman. She looks at me with the eyes of a woman, fully aware of all what such one person is. Then the child looks at her with widened eyes, trying to figure out what lies in her eyes, when this woman looks at it and smiles. 

Sometimes the woman in me holds the Child's hand and then they take a walk together, sometimes they even play games, sing and shout loudly in joy. Sometimes she holds the child in her arms and sings to it, when it gets scared and sometimes the child wipes her tears with its sleeves, when she gets lonely. Sometimes she is chained down and sometimes she spreads her wings and flies. Sometimes she wipes the child's nose clean, when it is sick and hurt and sometimes the child covers her with a blanket, when she is exhausted and falls asleep. And when she is hurt, she and the child just stare at each other for a long time, without saying a single word. 

And I still wonder what I am at 27.

All the Nodetian Insurgents

Home is one of the words with the most beautiful sounds to it. It also bears a beautiful feeling, even to those who have never lived this feeling. Curious how my Home looked different from the usual image of this definition. The huge city, where I was born and grew up was a cruel place and the society I got to know had anything but tolerance for beings like me. I was 12 years old, when I found my home, the place where I happened to belong. It was a cruel battlefield from the start, us, trying to keep this 'Sacred Land' to ourselves, a small tiny restriction where we were allowed a little taste of freedom and where we had eachother to love and there was always 'them' who loathed everything we were, everything we wanted and all we stood for. 

I was 21 when I realized how much they truely hated and feared us, when under their Watch I first came in touch with true love, with one of the most forbidden loves on this planet. To know that I would be watched like that, to know that I could never have anything for myself, as long as they have power over the place we lived in... I still don't know what made me angrier.

Now for a couple of years they started bringing down our walls, gaining power over our homes, taking our lives into their flithy hands, stained with our blood. 

The first time I stepped into 'home' it was a half-finished building somewhere in North Tehran and I had no idea I was gonna laugh and love so much, while this building was built up into a fine research center with various labs and a fancy conference room. It must have become one of the proudest and happiest buildings in the 'Lili' Alley, for all the happiness, friendship, dreams, imagination and all the loud games we played there. A couple of days ago it was evacuated, the NODET headquarter, as one of the last signs of the arch enemy luring shamelessly in our home. I feel fierce rage, indescribable agony and unspeakable hatred.

After watching us, humiliating us, abusing us, imprisoning us, torturing us, threatening us, now they took our Nodetian home away... days like this I understand every line of this Song:

"Swords in their hands, they killed each and every man, who dared to invade their sacred land. Victory Songs are rising in the night, telling all of their undying strength and might."

A time to be the Nodetian Insurgent again...

*It might not be the best look but had to write this in Nodetian colors...