By Roya Monajem, Tehran
Passing through the old alleyways of north of Tehran, on the eve of Norouz, missing those years when even the thought of the New Year made the heart laugh, let alone the night of it, the feeling of Nostalgia became suffocating. Yes, all those beautiful gardens and houses are replaced by repulsive new buildings and instead of the pleasant song of nightingales ears are filled with the horrible sound of horns of cars, and...
She remembered the content of an e-mail she read in the morning: "Let's gather outside Evin's Prison in sympathy with political prisoners at the hour when the old year is driven out by the new year."
Would this Earth ever witness a time when there are no political prisoners? Would this Earth ever witness a world without war? Would there ever be an end to human pain and suffering? Would this earth ever witness a joyful celebrating human race
The sound of water running in a brook soothed that ever-present pain of Nostalgia.
Hopefully soon there will be no trace of those old alleyways and gardens and if she could forget the Time-Space as well, then nothing could remind her of what existed before. In this way the past only existed in memories and history books. Like those old days of childhood when the thought of the coming New Year, Norouz, made the heart laugh and Iran was called Persia and Persians were a civilized nation in the world full of savage uncivilized people and...
The sight of an old willow tree with its small newly grown light green leaves distracted her mind. Do trees have memories? Couldn't she be reborn just as this willow tree is doing? How can she completely die to the past?
She looked around to make sure nobody is around and then hugged the willow tree and asked: "Tell me you old willow tree: 'Are you welcoming this new year like me overfilled with this suffocating nostalgic feeling or what?'"
A kind of vibration filled her as though the willow tree was answering her question: "Forgive and forget the past. Then in the space created, dream about the explosion of a cheerful happy human race."
Simultaneously a breeze started to blow into the braches of that wise willow tree, singing
On the first day of Spring
Let's hold our hands
First bow to our Mother Earth
Then look up to our Father Heaven
And go beyond All the Past
All the History
And in the space thus created
Visualize the flowering of
Joyful jubilating gracious human beings!
... Payvand News - 3/22/04 ... --