From Tehran with Love
I was thinking that I wanted my children to live…
Because I have not.
I want them to live a life that is nothing like what I’ve lived…
I want them to know how it feels to kiss a lover in the streets and proudly let every passer watch you. I want them to make love without feeling guilty. I want them to love without fear.
I want them to wear all the colors of rainbow in one go, and feel safe. I want them to know that the police are out there watching the rapists and criminals, not young girls wearing skinny jeans and laughing a free spirited laugh. I want them to drink…I want them to party…I want them to let the breeze caress their hair… I want them to think of headscarves as occasional accessories, for fun, a fashion statement …not a fascist obligation for everyday…I want them to join face book without the need for anti-proxy software.
don’t want them to know how it feels to sleep in a bomb shelter, when you are five. I don’t want them to know what a red alert siren before the bombings sounds like. I don’t want them to watch anti air craft rockets against the dark sky, and remember that every time they see a shooting star when they are 27. I don’t want them to shiver at the sound o thunder storm.
I don’t want them to know what revolutionary executions are. I don’t want them to know revolutions never create the idealistic heavens they preach.
I don’t want them to be tortured and killed for their vote. I don’t want them to sigh every time they hear “civil liberties”. I don’t want them to cringe at the thought of another 4 years…40 years…who knows…
I was thinking that I wanted my children to live…because I have not.