In Solitude with a Chaotic Mind!

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It makes no sense! Sorry to start with these words, but I am truly on the verge of exhaustion. I am trying to keep my mind clear to write stories on my site as usual, though I have not succeeded as I hoped.
Actually, it is not only the massacre of my compatriots in my birthland causing chaos in my mind, but also my thoughts and opinions on these events, which differ greatly from those of others, who, like me, have been living in exile for many years.
However, there’s a difference: other Iranians in exile have carried their country and traditions with them, but I left them behind and fled from what Khomeini called the “thirty-six million counterintelligence organisation!!” I abandoned my limited thoughts from my past to find a new life, or more precisely, to develop a new, broader way of thinking.

In the early stages of the 1979 revolution, when Tehran’s major newspapers called Khomeini the Leader (Imam) and many intellectuals and advocates of freedom supported this, Al and I differentiated ourselves by stopping our support.
We debated the wrongfulness of this action, while others argued, “Let the Shah be dethroned, then Khomeini will be out of the way!”
It reminded me of Dr Sigmund Freud, who, in the mid-1930s, said one must stop this ill-minded (Adolf Hitler), but nobody listened!

Al and I have always kept a distance from society, so I am accustomed to solitude. However, I find it puzzling that since the Women-Live-Freedom Revolution began, more Iranians have been including me in their online groups. While I feel honoured, I often disagree with their actions but cannot openly communicate my views due to my speech impediment.

Swimming against the stream remains challenging, even though it has become my routine. I am grateful for Dr Jung’s valuable support in helping me manage that burden and how to carry that weight.

Dr Jung famously said, “In all chaos there is a cosmos, in all disorder a secret order.” He believed that the unconscious, which often seems chaotic to the conscious mind, actually has a deeper structure. Instead of viewing chaos only as destruction, Jung saw it as essential for creativity and growth. When old mental frameworks break down, it allows new, more integrated ones to form. Overthinking and mental chaos can sometimes mirror the shadow—those unconscious, repressed parts of ourselves. To explore this chaos, we must confront these disowned aspects, not just try to control thoughts. Jung’s goal wasn’t to push the mind into perfect order but to integrate its chaotic parts to achieve wholeness.

Anyway, I think I can share my thoughts more openly here because I believe you understand better!

I’m including my short essay, which I’ve shared multiple times in those groups, but it seems like either friends don’t grasp the points or simply don’t want to.

This relates to the primary question that preoccupied me: not just a warning about the awakening seen in all these events, but also an understanding of who the real enemy truly is.

Knowing the real enemy!

Throughout all these years of the Iranian uprising, I have wondered if it is clear to the opposition who or what the real enemy is: the Revolutionary Guards, the entire Islamic regime, or Khamenei himself. I am not sure if these are the real enemies – especially the last one, as we, the old-timers who were in Iran during the revolution, should have known Khamenei well. He came as a Hojjatoleslam, remained a Hojjatoleslam, and then became the leader through Rafsanjani.
Anyway, many questions remain unanswered for me, and I continue to think about them until they become clear.
In fact, the change or so-called political opening under the Shah’s regime began in the mid-seventies. I remember that this space started with television, from children’s programs to theatre performances, with the slogan: “We will wake you up!” Television also began showing full-length films that had previously been censored or banned. The street demonstrations were for freedom and a free press and were not religious in nature. However, following the Cinema Rex fire and Khomeini’s trip from Iraq to France, these events were framed in religious terms.
I believe that at that time, Western influence took over the revolution to protect it from leftist ideologies and Soviet interference. Even reputable newspapers such as Kayhan and Ettelaat referred to Khomeini as the Imam, and, unfortunately, the intellectual community supported this move, hoping to spread the revolution. Ultimately, it led them to lose focus on the revolution’s main principles.
Of course, we are aware of the process of how the revolution progressed and won. But here a question arises: how is it possible for the West to lead the revolution as a religious action under the rule of the mullahs, but not to consider its own subsequent interests? America and Britain spent money and overthrew the government of Dr Mossadegh in a coup. Still, suddenly, in the 57 revolution, they abandoned everything and left the future of Iran to fate with a mullah government? Did they think that simply preventing the revolution from falling into the hands of the leftists, regardless of what would happen next, was enough?
I can never imagine such a thing! I believe that this was a long-term plan to take control of Iran, to create a regime under its command, without any ideology, and simply to destroy the country and kill the future geniuses and thinkers, as we have been witnessing for years. Yes! I believe that this regime has no ideology; as we remember from the very beginning, they purged the intruders by assassinating or bombing and killing the ideologues and their leaders.
And this monkey game of endangering Iran’s nuclear program is simply a tactic to spread fear and panic, with the aim of greater success and greater influence.
I conclude that our primary enemy is the same as it has always been, and the only way to fight this dangerous and eternal enemy is to remain awake and aware.

Thanks, everyone, for reading and hopefully understanding my perspective.🙏💖

Changing The Level Since Eighteen Years, Yet Still Present!

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It’s been around two weeks since my brother’s anniversary, and I am late this year. Was it the recent incidents in the Middle East, or exhaustion from continuously writing about death? I’m not sure. Yet, it wasn’t the forgetfulness; I still feel his presence, and it gives me strength.

I titled this post ‘Changing the Level…’ because it reflects Al’s interpretation of death. I also agree with him that since no Persephone has returned from Hades to describe it, we have the free will to accept our assumptions about the afterlife as we imagine them.

Let’s stop discussing death and speculating about the afterlife. This time, I want to share with you a story about him and his relationship with our father, especially his actual name, which he truly disliked. It’s pretty common for fathers and sons with similar genetic material to struggle to get along.

As I mentioned in my article a few weeks ago, our father was a devout Muslim with a strong emphasis on the mystical aspects of the faith. He loved the Arabic language, which he always regarded as one of the most perfect languages in the world. As a result, he gave us Arabic names. I was fortunate to have a name associated with an enchanting fairy tale. Unfortunately, Al’s name, inherited from our grandfather, is a genuine Arabic name: Abulhasan! (I also refer to a promise I made to a respected friend of mine, Resa.)

Things deteriorated further when he tried to abbreviate our names for calling. He knew that shortening Abulhassan to Abul sounded awful, so he picked two sounds he thought suited us: ‘Ala’ for me and ‘Aali’ for Al, both meaning “the best of all.” I was still lucky in this instance, but ‘Aali’ is technically an adjective meaning excellent—more appropriate as a source or descriptor than a proper name. This mistake led to trouble for Al; at school, he was fooled, teased, and bullied.

He carried this burdensome heritage throughout his life. After we escaped to the West, he became quite desperate about how friends called him. Most called him Ali, a plain, simple Arabic name, but close and smart friends called him McAllister, after the English footballer from Liverpool, his ever-beloved team. As a result, his name was shortened to McAll, then to All, or Al!
I do believe choosing names is a crucial decision for parents, and honestly, as Persians, we were not particularly enthusiastic about Arabic names.

In any case, he could have had greater success in life, especially as an author, if circumstances had been different, and I understand this well. We were neither of us fortunate! Still, he endured for 57 years, and I, with my worn-out body and suffering soul, seek to join him.

I dedicate this song to you, Al, because you introduced me to Emily Dickinson and Robert Frost; thank you!

Thank you for reading. 🙏💖