voice of Iran
This is the picture I drew in Gharchak prison for a celebration held for an elderly inmate whose sentence was reduced to life imprisonment.Women had painted their lips red with pens,and plastic basins were used as musical instruments.However,there was an air of query,grief and uncertainty lurking behind their lips.During the ceremony,a girl was giving me an angry look.Her arms were lined with scars of self-mutilation.suddenly,she paced toward me;my heart was pounding and I was scared;I stood up and she stood right in front of me.she studied my complexion bitterly and said:”I am a thief and you’re a political prisoner,tell me how you are different from the Islamic Republic of Iran?!”Before I could say anything she continued:”would you waste a second to call the police if I snatched your purse,never asking how I became to be what I am?!Have you ever slept in the dumpster?!Did your father ever beat you?!Have you ever frozen under the snow with torn old shoes?!Don’t you and your ilk engage in all these political and factional games instead of sitting down with us murderers and thieves and asking about our problems?You think Ms.”Molaverdi” came here for us murderers and thieves,or came to meet with the likes of you?! If she was here for us she wouldn’t march down the aisles and then leave without asking how we are being treated here!
Neither you,the opposition,nor the regime care for us and yet you are all accomplice in our misery and poverty.
My body felt like It was nailed to the ground.level wasn’t able to sit or even talk,to say that I have no affilia
tionwith any of the parties,given that the whole system is corrupt!
The little girl is long gone but her words keep repeating themselves in my brain,rocking and rolling,and I won’t let them go to sleep!
care for Humans in Iran