I am terrified. I am angry. I am beyond angry. I wish I could scream. To scream so the whole world could hear me. I wish I knew where God is, and what IT is doing. I wish I could cry. I wish I had the power to implant a few big cancerous cells in Nenanyahu’s brain, hands, legs, and lungs, so he would stop thinking, moving, and pooping.
I wonder how dark a soul can be.
And, I know I do not have the power to put any cancerous cells anywhere in his body.
I am frightened. I am scared of what might happen to my parents in Tehran. I really need to get them out, but how? How am I supposed to get them out when all the flights are canceled, all the connections are disrupted, and FaceTime, WhatsApp, IMO, and all the other applications I know aren’t working? I am scared, and I don’t have the words to express my fear.
You know what, I wish I were white, with white privilege, and never been worried about these sh**.
I wish my parents were second- or third-generation immigrants from Europe, with blond hair and blue eyes.
I wish I could enjoy “white supremacy.”
I wish I were French, or German, or British, anything but Iranian, so I wouldn’t worry about who I “originally” am.
I wish I had never had an accent.
I wish I weren’t Muslim, and never a target of Western hatred.
I wish Iran were a country like the United Arab Emirates, Brazil, France, or Germany.
I wish I had never had to leave my country, ever!
I wish I were a housewife of four kids rather than an exiled journalist.
I wish I were a Christian.
I wish I had a fuck-load of wealth and money. I wish I were Jewish.
I wish I were a “king.”
But I am not any of those.
Instead, I am a pseudo-teacher at the bottom of the school’s hierarchical ladder, trying to never mess up “he” for boys and “she” for girls. I am a Muslim who wears shorts and drinks vodka. I am an exiled journalist who has not returned to Iran since 2006. I am a former foreign correspondent with fuck-load of awards that I wish I never received.
I am in a country where I’m scared to be a democrat.
I am in a nation whose leader is worse than Ayatollah Khamenei.
I live where a killer is rewarded for committing genocide.
I am terrified. I am scared, for myself, for my parents, for all fellow Iranians, for all fellow Muslims. I am worried about the country I left behind and the country I live in.
I just do not understand why we call a war, an attack against a sovereign nation, and killing civilians, an “operation.” Why do we reduce human lives to an act that needs to be operated on? Would we call Israel’s attack against Iran if it attacked Germany, Britain, or France? Why are some humans more human than other humans?
Right now, we are sitting in the comfort of our homes and listening to or watching a brief synopsis of the war in Iran, told by the media representatives who must take the Israeli side. I wonder what we would do if we were in the Iranians shoes. What would we feel? What actions would we take?
The war is ugly. But if you have to go through it, you just do. You go through it.
I pray for Iran.
I pray for Jewish people.
I pray for Palestine.
May we live in peace,
May we cherish our humanities
May we see humanity on the other side of the aisle,
May we be fair,
May we be just,
InshaAllah!!
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