I should be working on my essay on whether a nuclear Iran would stabilize or de-stabilize the region; however, my heart is here.
It is a beautiful day today, where I am; however, like most students I am locked away with deadlines.
To get away from the realities of what I am studying, instead of ordering course related books, I spent my money ordering poems that talk about love, grief, loss and how to heal.
I find myself these days looking not for answers per say, but words that can explain how I feel. In that, there are many things I experience; one is that when someone has already put in words something I cannot explain, I feel relieved. As if this is a confirmation that I am not crazy. I also feel relieved that I am not alone; sometimes, in the darkness of pain you lose perspective and feel you are the only one who is being given this pain. Though religion dictates to me that Allah does not give anyone anything more than what they can bear, when the pain is upon me I disagree; i disagree to such an extent I think very long and hard on how to end this life and join the embrace of God. However, when i read those words, and they sing to me, i feel at one with all those is pain and still here. I feel obliged to stay so that I do not betray them.
Not only English poems though, I’ve managed to rumble through the internet and get myself hooked to old hindi poems and songs from my grandparent’s eras. Again, finding the perfect words written decades before I was born brings me the solace of knowing that this ugly world has always been ugly. It did not turn this way specifically for me. In this falling in love, I discovered how beautiful the lyrics to the songs, the meaning behind each word is.
Now listening to hindi songs from 1940 is beginning to annoy even my dad. I guess they wish I would be a little more modern, and find my old soul to much to bear. Having said that, they love me precisely for my wisdom and random crazy moments. I do feel I have aged far quicker than the average person. For my 22nd birthday, my best friend told me – it feels as if we are 30, and soon we will surpass our parents age. My back aches with pain, and the knowledge that though I have the ability to take revenge, I shall always chose not to. Though I have the ability to inflict a similar level of pain to those who almost killed me, I spend my time thinking of how to protect them,
My brother, on the other hand, feels reading these quotes and poems only hinders my progress. To him, he feels reading these only cement my pain further. He gets very annoyed if I try to recite anything I find very meaningful. I have realized however, that I cannot force him to understand. In fact, we cannot force anyone to understand if their perception is so strong that they’re not willing to look at any other view. This argument is used by the family to explain why they do not bother speaking to me – because I am to stubborn to understand anything but the truth that I have declared.
In some things, being stubborn is required; standing up for your childhood self against your pedo uncle is right. That is not something that you need to change your perception on; I shall write an entry specifically on this matter later, but for now I must return to my Iran essay. Wish me well.
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