Confession 3

    I like Birmingham.I feel like walking somewhere in Istanbul when I'm wandering around in the city centre.I have got quite nice memories remained in my mind, from the time I was there trying to settle.

    ...and I bought a new phone, an iPhone. I was so excited on the coach coming home to start setting up my iPhone.When I got home, I had no patience to get the battery full charged !

    I spent more than an hour just to get familiar to this interesting device. I was so happy as if I was a child receiving a fantastic gift.

    Then, I thought about someone who I am probably going to give this phone to.  I will never keep such a nice stuff for a long time.To me, being happy as a child only lasts for an hour, more or less.

   

Confession 2

   At the age of 12 , I fell in love for the very first time. We were in the same school. It wasn't a proper school actually. Because of the war, we would take refuge in a village twenty miles far from the town, pitching a few tents on the playground of a school as a temporary school. Holding classes inside the tents was really interesting to us. We would sometimes open the tent's walls when it was worm, then we were able to see the other students sitting in the classes next to us. We were teasing each other and the only thing we wouldn't concentrate on was the lesson. Such a great time...!

   And my love suddenly appeared :" S" .  Many years have gone by, I'm still keeping her name as a secret. I have never tried to reveal her name to anyone. She has been always kept inside my heart. I haven't had a sweeter memory than her love and this is probably why I am not telling her full name and the entire story to others. Maybe I won't be able to deal with the emptiness might be caused in my heart because of her loss.I still enjoy her memories.

    When the school term was over and we left the village, unluckily we didn't stay in the town and moved to a city miles away, where I couldn't find any sign of her at all. I was dreaming her most of the times, thinking of her days and weeks and months.Ultimately, when I realised the fact that I had lost her forever, it was too late. She had already formed my personality. She had changed my future plan, from a space scientist to a poet. Talking alot about her with myself made me a poet. And I am still a poet asking how my life would be liked if she was with me. I was all the time surrounded by her lovely face, her kind smile and kiddy X's. My life has been always related to the poetry.My imagination has always been stronger than my logical observation. Tough I have paid quite a lot for my character but I haven't given up yet.

    Sometimes I suppose my efforts to get involved in politics, my sense of adventures and the intention of taking unnecessary responsibilities are in fact to eliminate my poetry views from my soul. This is the point to admit.

       Unfortunately my readers in Iran are not able to read my posts now and my blog is forbidden to see in Iran. I am certain there is a mistake. I have never written something against the country's policy on shawgaar and I hope the authorities will permit my readers to read my writings again.

     

  

Confession 1

     We finished the class a bit earlier today.Unfortunately, the next teacher was sick. It seemed most students didn't like to leave.The teacher was pretending that we had our choices :  either staying more in the class or going home. The vast majority of the students accepted to stay, but he gave us another chance to choose again... !!!  His eyes and his pitiable intonation was telling about his strong intention to stop ! Again we liked to stay ! Then, he gave us even more chances to choose, keep saying it was up to the class decision !

    Finally, the vast majority of the class understood and decided to go home... !! He won the referendum !

     We were leaving the building but decided to get back to the buffet.We saw some of our classmates sitting and chatting there... and we joined them.

      Conversation was quite ordinary and boring. I remember my previous class in Sheffield which was really exciting. Although I was working hard and struggling with a  specific serious problem, I would rarely miss the lessons.Our teacher, Dora , was brilliant. I still remember the word she said once.  " We are not only learning English language here, we are also learning from each other." She used to say. She was teaching communication skills, English culture ( but in Yorkshire's field !!), the ways to build up our confidence and many more as well as English grammar.

      Here in London , I had ideas about the changes we needed in the class and today, spoke to others about them. Soon after, when I was walking home, I changed my mind.I asked myself to mind my own business, to put aside my old emotional traits.There is no obligation to help the people who don't want probably the change.

     

      There was actually another reason to give up my plans. The guy who hints occasionally about the mistake I made.He knows a little kiddy secret and remind me so often.Every time he says something , I feel so humiliated. But I am proud of myself not saying anything back, but to blame myself again and again.

     

     I feel so sad , when I think there are people living in the dark but brushing off a little candle, as if they are enjoying the life in darkness. I feel so sad, when I see a prisoner has got used to the prison, doesn't try to feel the enjoyment of the freedom.

     I feel so sad, when I realise I have no power to give others a hand. And I am suspicious whether I am in the same situation or not ! Who knows the truth.

    

When I was young

     When I was young, in my childish daydreams I would try to draw a clear picture of myself as an adult. Adulthood was like an exciting life to me. It was a perfect adventurous life, full of the great responsibilities with lots of different friends and companions. In my dreams it was basically the symbol of freedom, power and happiness, as most children probably think the same.

     Years later all the dreams melted and disappeared unexpectedly. We saw the incidents which our adults were unable to cope with. We would easily recognise their loneliness and disabilities. We would distinguished the smile was coating a factual fear from the one which was the real and pure.

      Living in the toughest historical circumstances, made our childhood shorter than normal.We were expected to understand and to behave like adults at the age of fourteen or fifteen.Therefore, we had to leave the dreaming time of childhood without finishing at the appropriate time.

     Years passed by, I would feel regret for the adults rather than my dreaming childhood. I still remember living in a house which was one of the most expensive in the town, enjoying ourselves without knowing the fact of our father's bankruptcy. Adults were suffering and we were getting closer to the world of adulthood , the world which wasn't actually a heaven.

     Remembering my childhood daydreams I was asking myself why I have no intention to follow the dreams ?! As an adult, now, I don't like to have a very busy diary of social life, to try to be more powerful or to think of creating more happiness. Instead, I like to reach a peaceful and a quiet life. All my career is about reaching a bit of peace of mind, nothing more.

    ... and why I came across this subject ? ... I don't honestly know !

     

The King's Speech

    We went to watch "the king's speech" last night. I think it was easier for my companion calling the film's name as " the speech of king" ! Because of this, we had so much laugh and fun and my friend warned me to not telling his chosen name to humiliate him in front of others. I gave my word !!

     The film is great and thoughtful, but I am especially keen to memorise one of the scenes in the beginning when the tutor asking the king if he stammers when he talks to himself and he says : No, of course not !

      Same as many previous films resembling this, the film has a few clear messages on the surface and some more hidden out of the sight. This is one of those movies I think I need to watch again to assure I haven't miss any scene.

      

another trip not in vacuum



       Sitting peacefully behind my computer, I'm trying to find a final answer for a constant question ; Am I attempting to escape from a stranger...? followed by the very next question : Am I living with someone else who has hidden inside me and yet I haven't recognise him/her ?!

      The place where I'm writing these stuff  at, is quite far from my home.I'm not thinking of myself as a guest but in reality I Am ! I came to stay in a peaceful atmosphere for a while after having a stormy conversation with the stranger in my imagination, the one who was asking me to stop doing terrible mistakes,calling from the depth of my mind, somewhere beneath my subconscious.

     I am here any way, far from my home, locked up in a small room full of lights with a large window overlooks a peaceful scenery.I could write some more, more private than usual, if I was an anonymous writer.

     It's late. I need a pen and a piece of paper to write down the list. What's happening now? Where are the facts? and so on...!

   More to write when I am at home soon.