Freedom
Its been a week since the lines of Sohrab Sepehri’s poem repeat in my mind over and over: I saw a train which was carrying politics and oh it was so empty’
The political arguments between me and my brother have a long history. It was just last week when he started talking about the political news back home and waited to hear my response. From his point of view whoever supports ‘no war’ is with the Government. We were still at the breakfast table when he opened the conversation, “so Maman said that you hate T more than K right?”
“What?” I shot back, “when did I say that?” I asked glaring at my mom.
“I said I hate them both, they are two sides of the same coin.” I was angry as he had pushed my button again
“Oh, maybe that was my misunderstanding” Maman tactfully tried to repair the damage. You could clearly feel weariness in her voice as she knew this argument was not going to end soon.
“I don’t know why you guys interpret things the way you like” I said to the wall. I was already upset and agitated. My brother could not see beyond his nose and thought that a military invasion was necessary to rid his beloved home of the current regime.
The level of anger I was feeling was not just simply because of my mom passing on my words in a wrong way; this argument had a long history and I was sick and tired of explaining my position. I believe that freedom should come from within and it should be achieved without violence.