I have a dream

It's 4 AM, here, in Tehran and I can't go to bed.

I'm thinking about our city council's election—which is going to be held on Friday—and am trying to estimate how many people would go to the polls. Hmm… Why is it important to me? Just think that more participation may improve the situation of Iranian reformists as the number of votes for conservatives has been remained constant through the years.

But this is not all that makes me sleepless. My Persian weblog is blocked for the third time in the last 6 months. I've established new domain addresses twice, but all three are now blocked by the authorities. Although I'm a journalist, I write my personal notes and concerns—from family to society, from poetry to cinema—on my blog and I don't know why they are against it. Why should I be censored?

Well, I'm also thinking about the gathering of Holocaust deniers in Tehran and I simply compare the whole seminar and Ahmadinejad's guests with those of our last president, Khatami. Can you tell Pope from a former Ku Klux Klan leader?

I have a dream, but if only I could sleep…

PS. my blog on RSF.

You, Zombies*

Where are people who are against a military attack on Iran? Is there anyone left? People who believes that no war can contribute to the establishment of liberty and democracy in Iran –what I do believe in?
Britain prime minister has changed his foreign secretary because of not believing in war against Iran but it seems lady Beckett, the new one and the first woman to hold one of the "big three" political posts, believes in war.
How could I conquer my feminist opinion: women are against war, pro peace? After Rice, we see another mother of war in the world?

*Zombie is the name of a popular song by Cranberries, a famous Irish pop-rock band, which I really love. Today –once again- I saw their videos and enjoyed a lot. You can download the Zombie from here and find the lyrics from here:

Another head hangs lowly, Child is slowly taken. And the violence caused such silence, Who are we mistaken? But you see, it's not me, it's not my family. In your head, in your head they are fighting, With their tanks and their bombs, And their bombs and their guns. In your head, in your head, they are crying... In your head, in your head, Zombie, zombie, zombie, Hey, hey, hey. What's in your head, In your head, Zombie, zombie, zombie?

Summer

A rice field, Rasht, Iran.
[photo by: Parastoo Dokouhaki | July 2009]