Iran: “That Lump in my throat”
Forty days have passed since violence broke out, a blind violence ordered from above and executed from below… […]
We buried young martyrs, the number of whose days didn’t exceed the number of days of freedom in our land. We lost those who were children of our war, seasoned in the era of patience and perseverance of a people who had, throughout these years, lived with bare minimum so that their tall dreams could animate their future.
Pity, “what did my child have except a green band?” one grieving mother asks, the green that has come to symbolize this post-presidential election movement, “what was he asking for except for his vote?” I remember days when we had time to cry over the body of our dead. I remember those days that we would have grand ceremonies. I remember those days when we would adorn every street corner of this city with the name of brave men and women of this land, so that we wouldn’t forget them.
What’s happening to us? Where are we going? […]
Today you shed the blood of our children. Today, you return our youngsters to us in bags, mutilated, bruised and disfigured. We are not even to mourn their deaths. Is it against your laws?
Let us cry for them. Let me be present at the farewell ceremony. Let me commiserate with mothers and fathers who have lost their sons and daughters. Let me kiss their foreheads. Let me stand in prayer before their lifeless body… because that lump in my throat hides a swallowed scream that was never allowed to come out when it was only a whisper.