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I’m watching the programs relayed by the government it tries softly to push Islamic and especially Shiite fundamentalist values on exile and émigré communities in U.S.
Watching scenes from the Tassua and Ashura as people mourn the death of Hussein and his followers. This scene refreshes memories and quite strange sense of longing. I want to be back and like one of those repenters beat my chest and cry Hossein, Hossein
Hosseinam.
I can’t help but to shed a few tears for Hossein or our destiny in exile. How can I deny something so close and yet so far? All these beliefs and fenatism put us at the state we are in and here I am longing for being there. How I resented the whole scene and logically resent to this day make me melancholic and feel me with nostalgia of the time gone by, the country gone to the pigs and comrades lost in the whirl wind of history.
That’s how demented and eclectic exile is just like the way I look like a rap musician the music I listen to, food I eat the books.... and this never ending fear of loosing the ones I love and a few remaining comrades I say comrades because I really feel friendship is meaningless!
And yet if you don’t make sense of what I’m saying please blame it on exile!