Iran, a reflection: Names

Niki Tehranchi
by Niki Tehranchi

This blog is in response to Ms. Nazy Kaviani's blog asking people to contribute writings with the theme "Iran, a reflection" and starting with the words "Everyone knows."

Everyone knows Neda’s name today and now Sohrab’s name too, slowly but surely, although he has not been treated with the same amount of fervor in the media or public opinion, at least not yet.

Everyone still remembers Ahmad Batebi and his infamous photograph holding his classmate’s bloody T-shirt the last time we had such a loud protest against the IRI’s abusive and unethical practices.

Everyone is still outraged at the memory of the brutal murder of the Forouhars.

Everyone surely recollects the cowardly, despicable assassination of one of our greatest artists and humanitarians Fereydoun Farrokhzad.

And shortly before him, the killing of Shapour Bakhtiar.

As I think and sigh over all these names that everyone knows, I also think of the many many more that everyone may not know, but who have also perished unjustly.

For their beliefs, for their cause, for their party, for their individuality, for their gender, for their religion, for their family, for their comrades, for their classmates, or simply perhaps because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I look at my son and shudder and selfishly hope and pray his name will never be the one that everyone knows.


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by Farnoosh on

Thank you.

Nazy Kaviani

Dear Niki

by Nazy Kaviani on

Thank you for sharing your heartfelt sentiments and for remembering the other fallen martyrs of Iran.

Most people don't know that in addition to being a lover of Iran and liberty for Iran, Parvaneh Forouhar was also an accomplished poet.  I don't know if you can read Farsi, but I'd like to leave you one of her poems which she wrote for Iran, eerily predicting the way would die for it.  It brings tears to my eyes everytime I read it.  I'd like to leave you this poem in gratitude for your acceptance of my invitation.

 چه غم آلوده شبي
شبي از دشنه و از دشمن پر
گرده ها زير فشار شب خم
سينه ها از غم شب خسته و زار
نه نسيمي، نه نواي مهري
نه اميدي، نه صداي پايي
شبي اينسان خاموش
شبي اينسان خونين
شبي اينسان ز كژانديشي پر
در كدامين تاريخ ، مي توان دیگر يافت
در همه خلوت اين شام سياه
وندرين ظلمت محض
به كدامين اميد، مي توان ديگر بود
به كدامين فرياد مي توان سينه سپرد
به چنين تيره شبي ، نتواني آويخت
ژنده پيراهن خويش
خشم طوفان مددي
رعد و بوران سببي
تا بميراني ديو، تا بسوزاني دد
و برآري خورشيد از دماوند بلند


Good one Niki.  I'll

by Anonymouse on

Good one Niki.  I'll try to write one too. 

Everything is sacred.