Unlawful life

Yesterday early in the afternoon I decided to visit a relative confined in hospital. Using a shared taxi I had to wait some time for the car to be filled. The weather was hot, actually hottest part of the day in hottest days of the year. This kind of taxi is commuting in a controlled route with a certain fare labeled on the top corner of front glass. A young man seemingly to be in hurry told the driver that he pays for two persons. So, the driver, a tall bearded dark man around 45 with green eyes who was standing in a distanced shadow did not have to wait any longer. He came and we, I mean me sitting in front and the young man who is to pay for two and a woman at her late 30s began a journey which I never ever thought to be like what I will be telling you in coming words.

On the way the young man at the back wanted to get off and asked for how much he should pay. The driver told him a price which was more than what was stated on the label that was hidden behind the front shade. I asked the driver why he charges more than the usual price. He said in a law voice, "It is al right".

I said, "I do not get you"

Driver: "It is the rate".

I: "But it is stated in the label (I was saying this while lifting up the shade) something less".

Driver: "you can call 1888 and complain".

I: "Why should I complain (I had the experience that would lead me to no where)? From the beginning I won't pay in excess".

Driver: "Do it if you want to eat "Haram".

This I should explain to my non-Muslim readers that Haram is a religious expression used to denote any thing which is forbidden for a Muslim to do. Like eating Pork, drinking wine, accepting bank interest, unlawful earning and etc.

I: "Why do you bring this issue to a religious concept? The label says you are charging more than approved rate".

Driver: the approval is out of date.

I: "This is printed in current year".

Driver: "We drivers have objection against it".

I: "So, your objection is not met yet and you raised your rate and you say you are not doing Haram but if I pay you with the approved rate I am dong Haram? I damn this Ideology you believe in".

Driver: "You do not need to pay".

I: "I pay what I should pay which is your approved fee".

At this time he was already shouting that the taxi administration officers have personal grudge with their representative and that is why their tariff did not increase for the current year. He was cursing the taxi organization forcing him to argue with passengers while he is fasting and suddenly started to slap himself to his face. I was really shocked. I told him, "I am just reminding you regulations and you beat yourself". But by this he pressed the pedal brake dangerously in a way that the head of lady at my rear came almost close to my ear. While looking at me angrily I felt I am sitting next to a beast. He looked fearful. Green eyes with a very dark skin covered with perspiration and smoke from cars' exhaustions. He said, "You insulted the Imams and Koran"! What he said added to his power terrifying me, because he now had the state's power at his back. I said in a calm voice, "Did I"? He said, "Yes, you insulted the Koran". I said, "No, I did not insult the Koran, I only said I damn what you believe in". Then he again started to beat himself but this time he was punching to his face and head.

By now his voice and its tone were changed. He was almost crying. He was repeating that the situation is getting harder and harder. I was chocked with tears. I told him that I only was trying to do my duty as a citizen. I brought his head closed to me and kissed his cheek. He also kissed my face and for a moment we kept silent. I was already closed to my destination and paid him a little more than the official rate. He did not want to accept. He said, I did not want to get from you more from the beginning but since you spoke loudly I feared the other passengers would notice.

I said good bye to him and asked him to control himself in similar situations to come. He responded in a very polite positive answer, "Chashm".

Undisciplined disciplinary forces

Yesterday was my day off. My daughter had just finished university examinations and my son too was in a good mood to accompany us (he rarely voluntarily goes shopping with us). We had planned to buy our lunch outside thus my wife did not have to worry about cooking as well. All in all we had started a good day, we thought!

Before leaving the house I reminded my daughter not to wear anything that causes trouble regarding disciplinary forces' maneuver over Hejab or Islamic costume concerns. Doing so she reviewed all her old and new cloths and she even did not care much about fashion. She wore just a set of plain black pants, dress and a yellow scarf. Even so, right after entering the Hyper star Mall, two women disciplinary forces (it is how the police is named after Islamic revolution) wearing a dark veil (Chador) stopped us and questioned my daughter. While touching her manteau one of them said that it was short and why the sleeves were folded. I was carefully listening so for the next time we observe them too, although I really felt we were offended by this but had no other choice except to be obedient. Complying with a Persian poem:

In the hands of a bloodthirsty lion

What preference remains but submission?

Listening carefully to what they were saying, their man colleague a bit farther called on me that I should stay away. I replied, "This is my family". He repeated "Get distance". This time I shouted at him, "But I am listening to avoid such incident for next time". In seconds I found myself surrounded by five or six uniformed disciplinary officers. They were warning me to calm down while two of them continuously pushed me with one hand. I told the two, one by one "stop pushing me". One of them said in a rude tone, "Why you got mad?" I reminded him that he should be polite. Then he said, "You are impolite". We were interrupted by my wife's yelling at them. She was screaming while shaking severely. Later she told me that they had threatened to detain our daughter. She wailed, "My husband has been in battle field and you are doing this to him while you are under air-conditioned." One of them around 30 years old replied, "I was there too". I thought he most have been there for elementary school since the war ended when he was still a child. There were people stopping and watching our confrontation but they were instructed by uniformed police to not gather round. Subsequently we were guided out of the occurrence's site and the flow of people continued toward the stairs heading to the mall. I looked back and told them, "This is not the right way to govern the country." We almost were out in the parking lot that my daughter went back and told the two disciplinary women that," Are you Iranians? To God I swear you are not Iranians". This time I was really afraid for the first time and was sure that we will be taken to custody. But surprisingly nothing happened. I think they were not bothered by calling them Aliens. In the parking I found out the one who managed bringing us out of the lobby into Parking area was a high ranking officer, he said that they are forced to do this although do not believe in what they do. He had sympathetic approach and I thought he had to play the good man there. I told him they (the disciplinary forces there) were not trained enough. They should be disciplined. They were really behaving more like thugs than Police forces.

In the whole event my son was quiet. First I was happy for this. Obviously I did not want him to get in trouble. But then I noticed how well the Islamic republic's strategies had been successful in schools and other aspects of life making him and youth like him obedient and harmless citizen for a totalitarian system.

Who knows? He may respond against a foreign assault the same, similar to how the Iranian people and Army behaved during Sassanid period against the Arab invasion.

Upside down

On the way to office I have chosen a new route. It is quicker and cheaper. But the problem is the insecurity in parts of the way, I mean there is possibility of accident with cars. I thought if some of top city officials were used to walk, there may be less messy path for walkers.

Just close to my destination, there are busses and minibuses always parked. One of them has a sign on it written in Chinese characters (or ideographs). I have seen this sign on many cars. Interestingly at all times affixed upside down. I should explain I know a bit Japanese writings which are in some ways like Chinese. This time I saw two men talking near this minibus. For a short while I waited with the hope to find the owner of the vehicle. Fortunately one of them was the owner. I asked him if he knows the meaning of the sticker put on his car. "No", he said. I reminded him it is up side down. He said, "Really? I did not know it. Let's have breakfast". He said this while pointing to the bread he was holding. I continued walking, the next car had a machine made carpet depicting Fardin, the most famous cinema celebrity during the Shah's era on his chair. The super star who was not allowed to act rest of his life after the 1979's revolution. He was one of the few well known movie celebrities who did not escape the country after the enormous changes that reaped the country in all aspect of life mainly culturally. And no one really cared for his years of absence in the Iranian cinema there after. Until his death that media talked about him and some folks like this bus driver remembered him by putting a carpet portraying his picture –captured while in fame- on his seat. Another minibus had a French flag sticker on the side window and two Persian soldiers on the door.

In the evening when I came home I found the atmosphere unusual. Little by little my wife and my son started to explain what had happened. My wife had been shopping in a grocery and bought some goods and the shop keeper gave him chocolate instead of her change. My wife did not want to accept a chocolate replacing her money and the shopkeeper got angry and did not want to sell her anything at all. She came home angry and my son together with his friend went to the said shop to discuss the matter. Now I was frozen for what I was hearing. What went wrong in my family? Or better to say what is happening to this country? I just was thanking God that nothing serious happened. How about if they involve in physical contact? How about if they end up in police station and what if one of them get hurt and… etc.

When I started my day I never thought my day may end like this, even though everything should be expected living in a country like Iran, anything.

A day in Tehran- Anything sacred,

Today is Friday, a sacred holiday in Muslim world. Although I am not really sure how a Muslim community is reorganized to be one?! And I am a good example to portray this controversy; for I neither did nor see anything sacred today.

In the morning I brought my daughter to her Guitar class. She had a group practice preparing for a concert. I waited for her in the car near her school. The gas price is high and rationed so, I decided to wait there, and for filling my time brought with me Somerset Maugham’s “Of human bondage,” after almost a year that I had kept in the shelf.

It was not easy to find a good parking place, but after all I found one. While sank in the book the car in front of me trying to get out of park bumped me. So hurriedly, I distanced from him and complained,”why didn’t you tell me? Had you to strike me getting my attention?” He left without a word. An hour later a very chic and nose operated (you should see “Nose, Iranian style” by Oskuee) came close and asked without preliminary custom words, “How long are you waiting here?” I answered, “2.5 hours, why?” He said a car has bumped his car and a witness had left its number on his car. I now understood why the driver who had bumped me earlier did not pay attention to my complaining voice. I think he has also bumped his front car which was an expensive one and the strike had caused damage to the car so he seemingly preferred to run away instead of arguing with me.

My daughter came and on our way home in Shahrak Gharb (Now called Shahrak Qods) we saw several units of young police forces in groups of 20. I did not notice why they were there and told my daughter, ”This is the job generating course of action promised by Ahmadinejad’s government, to hire people to control other people!” Some cars were parked aside streets heading toward the walkway leaving a narrow space pass. Two or three cars bumped each other and seemed to be waiting for police. I told my daughter the situation brings an Armageddon genre movie in mind.

The weather was lovely. Sun shined as beautiful as possible, rarely Tehran is this clean. I thought this would be a loss not walking in this weather. I went out to have walk. Two young boys around 14 on two small motorbikes were approaching. Their outfits and old weary motors gave the impression they were not very privileged. They honked constantly looking as if to be so joyful. When they got closer one of them (looking like “Bashu” by Beizai) with a very warm smile looked at me and while putting his hand on his head yelled “Kachal” meaning, Bald. I am very sure he was right and I am a hairless middle aged man. But the problem is, what kind of teaching made him choosing this one among all beauties he could enjoy the day?

Iran, the kidnapped nation,

This morning I went to a police affiliated office to renew my passport. I had prepared all needed materials. After a short stay I was called to the window. A young lieutenant was on charge and I presented my document in a file. Right after opening my file he said, "This can not be.”

I asked, "what about.”

He said, "We can not accept your photo, because of your beard (I have a goatee beard since six years ago and even in my present passport’s photo I have the same beard), it is considered decorative."

I replied, "I feel you are insulting me.”

By this he became a bit uncomfortable and continued, "It is not us; it is the system" (which he meant administrative automation).

Now, I was getting irritated already and told him, "I don't give a damn to the system which does not recognize my beard.”

He said, "you can make it photo shopped".

I was so angry that my hand was shaking; I noticed it when I tried to put back my eyeglasses in its case.

I shouted, "What next? How far this will go? Why do you intrude to people's very basic right to decide for their personal affairs?" While pulling my beard down I continued, "Do you think if I take this off, your interference in our privacy will end? I do not think so."

Then I collected my documents and told them, "I do not want a passport,” and left the place.

On the way to office I was thinking about what happened and if what I did was proper. I remembered the way the women staffs in that office were staring at the whole event. They were working while they were covered by veil. I imagined they were questioning my silence as male country man who during the 1979’s revolution was old enough to have a part in law making which deprived women from their many basic rights legislatively, "How about this heavy costume we have on, is it not humiliating to force people choosing their outfits?"

I passed by young drivers who were calling, "Exhibition! Exhibition!” they knew there are among people who are going to visit Tehran's 24^th book fair. Millions visit the place every year. It is said to be one of the prominent book fair of the world. What a contradiction, I thought! How a nation who perpetrate such achievement can enforce these humiliating rules. Yet, it adds to more surprise to know the related authorities announced that one of the negative points of the book fair is many women did not observe the Islamic Hijab while visiting the fair. The national television also put on air an argumentative report last night, while showing women not observing Islamic outfit properly and criticized the fair’s environment.

Vagrantly I was roaming in the same route that I usually go hurriedly to have my last ride to office. I asked myself, who these people are ruling over us? Are they the upshot of a revolution’s emergency situation? What kind of law makers they are, or for whom they instruct bylaws that most of citizens are disobedient to them and their guidelines. But then, how a minority can rule forcefully over the majority? It can in fact, when a majority is not aware of being majority due to lack of communication means then, every particle of that greater part behaves as separated extreme minor elements. The monopolized mass media in the hands of ruling class which proved to be a mere minority not only compel its dogma in a great deal, also visibly and invisibly try to divide people and eradicate all roots that can unify people. Just for an instance we can now see there is no sport man, movie star, business man, artist, political figure even cleric, no one that can be an icon which people can surround him. This is not to say the present population dose not have the quality, no. I want to say the group in power, by all probable methods like technological, psychological, and even ideological teachings strive to depict being the only possible leadership option.

In the office I still had not been able to recover from the earlier shock. I spoke about it to some colleagues. Everyone had his or her own experience and commented on the issue.

One said, "To get passport for my 5 years old daughter, I was told to prepare a photo in which my daughter’s hair is covered entirely. And when I reminded them that she is only 5 years old and Islam dose not oblige women for Hijab before 9. They said this is one of their regulations.

Another woman colleague said, "So, now you know how difficult is to tolerate warnings we receive to move forth our scarves in a way that none of our hairs could be seen."

A young fellow whom I think is one of the intellectuals in our office told me that I should have told the officer, "By getting rid of my beard with photo shop, then that man is not me. And this is how a jungle like this we are living in is created."

An old employee said, "Why? Could there be any one whose beard is not decorative." He was referring to utilization of beard hypocritically in our society. After revolution not shaving beards began to be a sign of piety.

After all, I should confess this was the first time I started to think decisively of setting myself on fire. But this was not a proper thing to do. First, what my children will think of me? I always had told them to fight for life and only a coward commits suicide. Secondly, if I did so, there will be a huge propaganda that this man (me) suffered from mental disorders or was a depressed addict.

I was thinking how this started to happen and I recalled around 2-3 years after Islamic revolution when little by little the state began to ban women going to offices and shops without Hijab. That time no one cared seriously. I remembered this precious quote I received from liberty.com. And indeed it is.

"As nightfall does not come all at once, neither does oppression. In both instances, there is a twilight when everything remains seemingly unchanged. And it is in such twilight that we all must be most aware of change in the air - however slight - lest we become unwitting victims of the darkness."

(William O. Douglas 1898-1980).

Five hours flight and experiencing a different planet

We are approaching Hamburg international airport. It is one o’clock in the afternoon. Outside the plane, the air looks fresh and the country clean and well cared-for. We’ve landed safely, and now we must go to the border control, where the police will stamp our passports. It is an historic moment for me. After years of waiting, I am about to enter the country I have dreamed-of since childhood. In High School, I loved the idea of Germany so much that I decided to study the German language even though it was both an unpopular and unusual choice at that time.

My heart was palpitating as I approached the barrier, and I wasn’t sure whether it was because my dream was about to be realized or because I was frightened by all the stories I had heard in Iran. I had been told that the German police were harsh and that they have police dogs which can chase you and attack you. Instead, I am welcomed with a friendly smile by a very neat, middle-aged policeman who reminds me of Kentucky Fried Chicken’s Colonel Sanders’. His smile brings to mind that ‘miraculous smile’ that the Japanese practice all their lives. Receiving such a smile from a German policeman was a complete and marvelous surprise.

We went to the baggage claim. A cart would be needed – but for the cart, we needed a coin. I told myself, troubles began. But I was wrong, because there was a machine to change notes into coins just for this purpose. That is not especially surprising – in middle-eastern countries there are often such machines. The surprise was that the machine actually worked! Here I should explain to my European readers that we in Iran have many public machines such as escalators, public clocks and so on – all over cities but they usually do not work and we have become used to that.

Our German friend is waiting for us at the exit gate. He insisted on coming to pick us up from the airport. I was terrifically pleased to be welcomed in this way, but at the same time I was quite embarrassed that someone so busy should take time to be there for us.

The taxi-driver was a woman. Now I was not surprised at this, but I was surprised that she gave us so much help in carrying our heavy luggage. Iranian women workers are exempted from physically heavy jobs – some by tradition and some simply by their own decision. I am not sure whether this would be regarded as a mark of respect and privilege by Western women – after all, treating women as the ‘weaker sex’ could also mean that they are judged that way in other areas of life in which they may feel discriminated.

The weather was hot. People said that it was an unusually hot summer. It was not particularly hot for us, but I was amazed as there was no ice or any air-conditioning to cool things down except for in the shopping malls.

At first, we thought the people are on holiday. Because, the streets and public transporters were not crowded. But after 2-3 days we found out how a city should be. A city of less than 2 millions with all means of transportation managed and utilized perfectly can not be compared with Tehran. A metropolis where still nomad's way of life can be seen.

Everything is clean and everybody looks alert, interested and yet calm. People seem to be happy and relatively satisfied in their work. Obvious laws such as driving and pedestrian regulations are carefully observed.

Among the thinkers who have words to say about the West, the first one who came to my mind was Asadabadi. He said, ‘In the West, I saw Islam but not Muslims. Back home, I see Muslims but not Islam’. I do not share this idea with him. On the contrary, I saw nothing that was Islamic. I live in an Islamic country where there is no respect for animals. Even animals like dogs are harshly treated both by laws and by the majority of people. But here in Germany, the dogs were living like gifted humans. In Iran, one can receive seventy lashes if caught drinking alcohol but here in Germany, every shop sold alcohol. Back in my country, one can ruin his or her partner by holding hands in public. But here in Germany we saw couples kissing in public. Of course there may be young couples holding hands in Tehran and other big cities in Iran, but there is no guarantee that they will not risk being questioned and, if they are not related, might face punishment under the law. In Germany, I saw people walking around, quite freely, semi-naked. Who in his right mind could claim that this is Islamic?! So, I think either Asadabadi lied or that Europe has really changed since he was there in the 19^th century.

One day, in the park, I noticed an elderly woman taking her dog for a walk. She had shaved-off the dog’s hair. Noticing our curious looks, she explained it was because she thought the dog felt too hot in the heat-wave. Although I am not at all sure she did the right thing (do dogs feel cooler if their hair is shaved-off?) but I did think that no-one could care more for his neighbour, let alone for his dog! Then I remembered something I’d learned in my German lessons in school back in Iran – that Germans care more for their dogs than they do for their neighbours! And I thought that, well, the neighbours don’t need so much care as the system cares for them.

There was a bookshop in Hamburg that I became fond of. It was on the way into the centre of town and it served coffee. It was a wonderful bookshop – not just because it sold coffee and cake as well as books – but because there was a place to sit and read the books! It was amazing to me, like a bookshop of my dreams. A place to read books, drink coffee and buy a book if you really liked it. I managed to visit this paradise bookshop three times. The salesperson, who I think was also the owner, was polite, clever, well-informed and nice-looking. She unwrapped a new book for me just so that I could look at it properly. Not for the first time I found myself telling myself that if the serious illness I had suffered from last year had managed to kill me, what a wonderful experience I would have missed! On my third visit, the salesperson welcomed me by saying, ‘It’s nice to see you’. I answered, ‘I have more reasons for saying the same to you!’. I think she felt I was being a bit over-the-top, but had she known what her shop meant to me she would have understood perfectly.

I think what I am going to say it is not very smart but, one of the most wonderful aspects of the trip was the easy access to unlimited Internet. I am sure many of you would not find this fashionable about how I spent some of my time in Hamburg, because almost every night I surfed the Internet couple of hours. I tried to look at things which are filtered-out back in Iran. I was able to watch so many old films, and listen to many archive recordings of historic speeches. Even though this part of my little travelogue can portray a clown out of me, yet I hope I have been able to remind my European readers of the priceless freedom they have.

At a newspaper office, I met a woman in her fifties. While she shook my hand, she pressed it with warmth and passion and with a look that I cannot describe. She explained that her first love had been an Iranian man. It was very interesting to hear. I wished that I had had the chance to know more about her story and perhaps to write about it. I am sure that the story would have been very popular and interesting.

One thing that made a deep impression on me was the patience that people show towards other people. For instance, when we took the bus we had to pay the driver. As our German was not good, and as we didn’t understand the ticket system very well, it usually took a little time for the driver to work out what we needed. I was so surprised that the people behind us never showed any irritation at the delay.

I had visited Dubai and other luxurious cities such as Tokyo and Seoul. I had experienced the architectural masterpiece of the dream-like city of Prague. But what amazed me about Hamburg and what made me admire it so much was not big buildings or the latest cars but the gestures and behaviour of a civilized community. The thing I remember most and can never forget were the warm smiles. And if I smiled when asking a question, I hardly ever received a disappointing reply.

One thing which I did not appreciate in the gatherings I attended and learnt about was the exclusion of children. Usually, in family or friends' gatherings in Iran I spend my time mostly with children. Though irrational, still I feel they, the children are closer to original factory settings and therefore nearer to God!

Back home I wrote a thanks letter to the German Embassy in Tehran. Which their reply was even more encouraging.

Dear Sir,

I wish to thank you for taking positive action on my visa request and making it possible for me to visit your gifted country. There are other people to whom I would like to express my feelings of gratitude but I skip names lest I deviate from the purpose of this note.

On this memorable trip, I learned a lot and was amazed most of the time by the masterpieces of urban and administrative engineering. I also found the people kind, polite and law abiding and most unexpectedly very approachable.

Thus, I profoundly am in debt of this excellent feeling of the memorable European trip. But, alas what can be my contributions to your beautiful piece of human community, except to pray the almighty God to keep your marvelous society safe and even more prosperous. I also hope if ever my people can have the chance -and the will of course- to establish such a clever and wonderful haven for generations to come.

However, in the whole trip there was once I thought something needs to be corrected.

In our Berlin visit one afternoon we joined a city circle tour. It took about 2 hours. And in the excursion course through a pre-arranged tour voice guide one can be acquainted with the city's highlights. But surprisingly the outlines are imbued mostly with war associated environment. It is true that this city and her people have been involved in a terrible war and we can hear here and there some strategic initiative tend not to let the memories of war disappear from the German people's mind, but this I think has nothing to do with a touristy mood with diverse cultures.

This dynamic city I believe has more to tell apart from depicting a war affected capital by repeating unnecessary sequence which belongs to a long time ago and in a very different atmosphere.

‘To return home at eventide with gratitude,

and then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved

in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.’

Khalil Gibran

Reality, the upcoming challenge

Reality,The upcoming challenge

For Jane Orth,

A young colleague who is an IT student was questioning if ever people were aboard on the planes crashed on 9/11? He also spoke about the rumors around about how the people could be deceived. I tried to explain and with a quick search in the net I showed him a snapshot of the passengers lists of the four planes involved in the 9/11 tragedy. I found out from his face he was not convinced yet. Randomly I pointed to a passenger on one of the flights. Jane Orth, was the one, and I tried to see what is there on the net around her to give evidence to my friend that she really exists. I was very much sure he still doubted on what I was saying.

We continued our talks while taking lunch and other colleagues had already joined our conversation. I mentioned about my experience with a deceased relative who did not believe until his death that the man ever stepped on Moon! Every one on the table talked about his samples of such disbeliefs. One said many believe saddam Hossein is still alive and enjoying his time in Hawaii. Our boss added the name of Bin laden as one of whom lodging in Hawaiian coasts. The Shah still is alive, Hitler although very old is alive too; these were other instances.

Hence, the issue of questioning the reality, I believe is the challenge of human kind in near future. What-so-ever can be the grounds and foundations but such viewpoints can cause most of our big and small disputes. Look at some of which I myself faced.

As a part time translator I sometimes have the chance to meet popular and influential people, like movie stars. Though it is not comfortable for me to ask celebrities for a memorial photo but the joy of my two children seeing their father with a popular person makes the shame worthy enough. But when a friend saw one of my pictures with a celebrity she excitedly exclaimed, “Oh! Is it a Photoshop?”

A school mate who ranks the tops in the class told my son not to use the Babylon dictionary soft ware. He reasoned “This soft ware is produced by England’s CIA (!) Which can hack the home’s PC and so they can see your mother in the house through web cam.”

I dare not to boast that I feel the agony of Jane Orth’s family and friends, but I hope people who deny or doubt her existence will recognize the tragedy before experiencing similar heartbreak themselves

Who asks where is our destination?

Last week the Polish Embassy in Tehran held screening of a Polish film in National Library of Islamic republic of Iran. The film shown was Katyn by Andrzej Wajda. The story is moving and since that afternoon I have been thinking about the tragedy happened to Polish people and other people who have suffered and still do in one way or another.
However, in the movie there is a part that the sister of a Katyn victim is about to commemorate his brother's memory by making a gravestone which the epitaph reads the date of his death, 1940. This date is a cause of controversy depicting the Soviets (who had Poland occupied) to be responsible for the Polish genocide in Katyn forest during WWII and not the Germans whom Soviets claim to be the killers. The girl insists on the date carved in the stone as if, achieving a patriotic obligation and she ends up in jail pompously.
I was asking myself, what difference does it make? What is really important about knowing who the killer was? Do Wajda or the Polish embassy want to settle with the history? How about if we emphasized on the roots and origin of the phenomena with the hope to prevent similar cases in the future?
Is it not deviating from reality if we believe that only Nazi ideology and ruthless Stalin can practice racism and violence and consequently commit genocide? We know very well in the absence of conscience and principles, this can take place by all nationalities. It is not difficult to provide a list for such crimes through out history. Meanwhile, how about the 1941 massacre in Jedwabne in Poland?
We do not need to search deep into history, just look at what Gaddafi is doing with his own people? Coming closer, here in Tehran next to our ears we also heard horrible things from Kahrizak.
Certainly, Katyn atrocity was not the first neither will be the last, but the crucial aspect to consider is; what every one of us can do to bring an end to similar events? The answer I strongly believe is that we should be sensitive and take responsibility for crimes happening surrounding us. Being silent or close eyes to tyrannies happening in the neighborhood is directly paving the way for oppressor to do more. I remember some words from Luther King, “He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it", and I need to mention few instances of world community particularly EU's negligence towards perpetrators of evil.
Al-Megrahi the Libyan convicted of bombing Oan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie Scotland in 1988 and was sentenced to life imprisonment Al-Megrahi was freed said on compassionate grounds (but we all know Gaddafi paid for him) by the Scottish Government following doctors reported that he would live only 3 months more, who still lives up to now.
Another example is Vakili Rad the man convicted of assassinating former Iranian Prime Minister Shahpour Bakhtiar in Paris. He was serving a life sentence when the French government trying to rescue Clotilde Reiss, a young French teacher with spying charges, sent him home where he received a hero's welcome.
Why is Europe so cooperative with dictators? Why are tyrants and totalitarian rulers so accommodated in west? I am talking about different facilities provided by modern and advanced states for theses regimes only on the personal interests? Military items, possibility of travel, safe haven and most important of all; western banking services are the least we know. Suffering people ask why EU peruses extremely different policies inside and outside its physical borders.
Taking full attention for insiders and neglectful for others.
September 11 proved that kind of strategy is inadequate. Now, no one nation can live cheerfully alone. Leniency concerning forces of evil undoubtedly would affect more advanced countries in time.

Bloody Valentine

The atmosphere of the city is totally changed. Although the weather is still cold but the sun shines to convey, the winter here in Tehran is over. Glittering spring is more colorful when the shops’ windows are filled with Valentine’s presents. Days earlier media announced there was an official memo commanding the shop owners and managers not to buy and sell any goods or elements remembering Valentine’s day. But the market did not considered the warnings seriously. There is another rumor circulating in the city mostly among youngsters about the possible demonstration by opposition on Bahman 25 which in Christian calendar is Feb. 14th. The day is approaching and I could not imagine how dare people come out and rally in the streets in despite of last years extremely brutal crackdown of the opposition dissatisfied with 10th presidential election result. I was busy preparing for a seminar in the office. However, frankly speaking even if I had enough time I did not have enough guts to join the protesters. Due to my last year’s personal experience during and aftermath of the unrest and also the tragedies quoted in media about misbehaving the dittanies. There was no exact data but some said 70 people were killed and many others tortured and some still kept in prisons. On the 25 fifth of Bahman, when going to office I tried to sniff something but nothing in particular. There were no mass uniformed police and no strict traffic controls and limitations in the streets. Some friends called me and informed me that the rally is planned to start at 3 o’clock. But the gift and the sweet shops were busy in extend that I could see some of them recruited additional sale’s persons. Every body here in Iran knew how harsh the protesters would be confronted with in case coming into streets. But the shop keepers knew this too. Yet they had presented the Valentine’s presents. So can we expect people to come to streets too? I was asking myself. Three o’clock passed. Colleagues in the office began to cal others whom they think know more about the probable demonstration. In my part relatives from provinces started to call but mainly through the office telephone, since they were sure my mobile like many others will be listened to. Last year I even received a sms warning me that: they know I am under the influence of foreign connections and if I join the protesters I will be pursued legally. Hence, I did want to check if I had received any sms but still checked them out awfully. No threatening message. In contrary I had received a charming note from a desirable friend which I think was just sent by mistake. But anyway, even a mistake it made my day! Other than what providently was planned for Sane Jale. From unofficial sources like friend who were there actually we heard more than 100 thousand people attended the rally. This was unbelievable. I personally mistrust the number. But then early evening all the seven channels of Iranian government TVs started to talk about the unremarkable presence of plotters. And the TV announced a Basiji named Sane Jale was killed by MKO agent in the riot! The organization which I think is dead in the mind of ordinary people here in Iran. I am sure the news has made the MKOs happy that the Iranian Government still counts on them. However, the announcements were filled with contradictions. For instance Radan the police authority said in an interview that the protesters were about 100-150. While Ahmad Khatami the clergy from Qom said the number was two thousands. The family of Late Sane too, said their son was not a Basiji. And most important to ponder is that since the 25th Bahman protest, all TV channels madly broadcast pictures of pro-state gatherings from archive. For people like me who were totally absent from the event the question will raise, what is importance of 150 unsatisfied people in a country that stays number one on the list countries losing its elites and intellectuals? The IMF ranked Iran highest in brain drain in 2006.