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Comment on "Exile"
"Imagine all the people living life in peace. You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will be as one. " John Lennon" Dear Shirin, Your story "Exile," touched me immensely. You have done a superb job in detailing and painting it beautifully, with words. It brought tears into my eyes. Your story is a story of almost all of us Iranians who had to leave the motherland, just to have a small peace of mind on this piece of earth. You must continue to create more stories and share it with the world. Human beings are creative vehicles. We are born to create. Our senses are the most precious tools, when dedicated to the grand performance of creative art. We are species of consciousness that connects us above and beyond mere earthly existence. Our senses constantly reaffirm our existence "I feel therefore I am." I want you know that I hear you. I see you. I believe you. You have marked a thunderstruck at this declaration. A declaration of words and actions in which are indicative of the most violent emotional experience. And this drama continues to play out in the good old earth. And we watch the drama to unfold right in front our own eyes and we start to yearn for eternal happiness and a distant past. Indeed, we are condemned to stay away from our home because of our political views, yet, we can inspire each other and by the imagination of a distant memory which continuously nourishes our soul, we will be able to cope with this emptiness, more effectively. Immerse your creativity in the mystery of being and explore the universe with your soul and imagination. We all are alone in this bodily temple, yet, we can connect. We are able to watch the wondering clouds, moving quickly from one side of the sky, to the other, and streams, how peacefully are flowing in the direction of sun. We can watch them together, the leaves that are falling incessantly, and flowers which are scattering all around the field. Then why do we feel such emptiness, at the bottom of our hearts? Why such ironies in life? Have we come to understand them all and pass the knowledge to others? It seems like there is always the ever-re-occurring feeling of sad melancholy -- loneliness-when we indulge ourselves in searching for our lost past. Should we fly back to our country as soon as possible; or should we run away from every object which reminds us of our departed home and our family? This self-exiled, self-banished, the feeling of separation from the bosom of Persia; has inflicted, indelible, painful injuries upon us. Your truly sad, beautiful and touching story, indeed would make a very pretty figure in a novel. A bleeding heart, love of family, and all that creates, can enter into the composition! Warmest regards,
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