I’m finally writing this diary at 30⟡133 . I have been wanting to write it, but then the story is too long and too strange and surreal, perhaps one of the most bizarre accounts of the war.
It was the second week of our ████████ training program, I was at █████, a very rainy city in Mazandaran. (the north province of Iran, rich in forests and natural resources). █████ is a city 20 minutes from Zea ’s home, and our garrison was around 45 minutes of █████, in a national park. The place—if had not been taken hostage by these crazy people—was a paradise, but then when you are between hundreds of crazy people, in ugly places, you will not understand a second of that paradise. It was hell.
In the Friday, Zea and her cousin Mohammad had visited me. It was basically the only good thing that had happened to me, I was so happy to see her that I cried almost the whole hour we had together. They had brought me food and sweets, but then I was too sad and exhausted to be able to eat, I spent most of our time just looking at Zea . In the darkness of those days, her bright and beautiful existence would just elevate everything.
Previously, my week had went by calling her every chance I got, and I would hold my tears just listening to her. She is my whole world, and deprived of everything, in that camp it was even more emphasized how much she gave meaning to my life.
I had this thing in my mind, that when they had asked me to do the prayers or say the ideological things they wanted, I would repeat this one in my mind, and it was also what I said to myself in the nights to go to sleep, and it was this:
And so imagine how happy I was to see Zea . But then the problem was, I had tried not to cry and be strong for the whole week, and at that moment, I got completely broken.
So you see, I had secured a visit to the garrison’s dispensary. I wanted a psychologist to visit me and give me medicine for my shaking. I went there and even thought it had to be calm and empty, people were in long lines waiting. It was somewhat funny. They told us, not to get sick in the training, and by the first week, everyone was sick.
I had waited for a while, it was hard to get to the dispensary, so many people forbid me, and I had to sneak out at the end. There I was stressed for it to get long and for my visit to cause me problems. The last person came out, I said how it was? And they said “the doctor told me to get in-front of the mirror everyday, and with a finger do “belooloolooloolooloo” on my mouth and smile, you’ll get happy”. I was shocked and went in.
The doctor said in disbelief—that I had just went there to waste his time, and do some fraud to get out of there—what’s wrong? With a figure of a knowledgeable authority above me. And so I told him that “I have layered, prolonged, complex, chronic trauma with comorobid pain and that is causing me to shake.” In total disbelief he said: “do you know what any of these things you’re saying even means?” (he must have seen my Archive ), I said yes very much. He did not believe me at first, so he began asking questions about the root of it (if I could only put it into words), and I explained my childhood, some of my problems, and how much therapy I have endured in my life. And that I don’t want him to give me a certificate for not participating in the ████████ thing, but I want medicine to temporary stop my shaking till this training program is done. And in the middle of all this, I had burst into tears, seeing Zea the yesterday was a huge factor.
The doctor got shocked. I saw his eyes pop out, and his jars drop. It was obvious that for a long time he had not seen anyone like me there. Now in absolute belief, and shocked, no longer with high esteem, but a questioning and concerned calm voice he asked “son why are you here?” and I told him just to get by, so that I can go to a programming job afterwards. He said “I have to send you to the city so that you can see some doctors and then a committee has to be held for your case.”, I asked “if they decide not, will I have to come back here again, from the start?” and he said yes. I said I just need not be shaking, so that I can finish this one, and he agreed. He told me: “I’ll give you some medicine that will relax you a bit, you have to come visit me every two days, I should have my eyes on you” and then he said: “the drug store won’t give you the medicine, it is too strange, I have to come with you” and then the two of us went into the doctor there where I got my medicine.
And then in tears and a heavy heart I went back to the class. (which was more bullshit than whatever you can ever imagine). A ██████ there was talking to other soldiers that “America won’t attack Iran, at least until the next month” and as he came to finish the sentence, someone opened the door in hurry and said: “Teacher, please evacuate the class immediately”, it was 10 in the morning, and so it couldn’t be the “Furry of the Night” (when they practice a sudden pretend attack in the middle of the night) and we were too early for that kind of shit, people panicked and so we ran away outside the building, there were sirens everywhere and it was scary, really scary. War had started.
They gathered all the seven hundred of us in the middle of buildings and said “stand and wait”. I was so stressed, we were the perfect target, and we were the target. The jets would have been coming any minute and bombard us. We were so close to death. I had tears in my eyes and then the commander came and said: “We, like you, don’t know what should be done, the command has not yet been sent, so we have to wait and see what we are told to do. It is a one percent chance that you’ll stay, but then most probably you have to take your stuff and go back home in a few minutes”.
By this point some people became stressed and angry and they started to yell swears to the commanders—who didn’t even care given the circumstances. Some groups stood like us, some were given “drop and give me twenty”, and things like that. Finally they told us: Break into three groups and move to the mountains. And so we ran towards the mountains.
In the mountain they had craved trenches and we had to go into them and get sheltered. It was filled with dirt and rain and so we put our foots into dirt, it was horrible. As we were approaching the trenches, the excavator operator seeing us, turned the excavator towards the road, and then went into the asphalt of the garrison, moving towards the door, destroying the path… It was really funny.
There I really lost it and bursted into tears, I was crying so much that my friend Soroush began to notice and questioned “Pouya are you crying?”. I said no I’m fine, then he said no you’re not, and began to shout “Aaaaay! someone here needs help” others noticed me and then the rest of our friends began to shout as well “someone needs help, he cannot breathe, someone needs help”, and so the more senior soldiers came and asked what’s happening, I said nothing I’m fine, then one said no you’re not! lets go to dispensary. I freaked even more. I had to keep a low profile there, and also the dispensary was more prone to get bombed than the trench. I didn’t know what to do. I said no I’m fine, and the sounds became so much that a commander came, and said “what’s wrong son?”.
It has to be taken to account the sheer amount of hatred for anyone I had there, so what happened next is beyond my words to explain. He said why aren’t you going to the doctor’s son? I said I’m fine sir, there is nothing for going to the doctor, and then he said but you’re not, and then hugged me, putted my head over his chest and kissed my forehead and said “there is nothing be worried about son” and pat-patted me on the back. I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t handle this much surreality. After a few seconds he asked what’s wrong son? And I told him I’m afraid of the war, he said: “don’t you worry, no one attacks a training camp”, I said I know, but I’m worried for my family, for what is about to happen to my city… In the most professional manner to calm me down, he took my head in his hands and made me look at him, then, with a bright happy smile, on top of a trench that could have been bombarded in say second, smiled and say: “Son! This is only a life we give away! what’s the worry?”, so I cried ten times more intensely, he then said: “have you eaten anything today?” (it was in the middle of Ramadan, a stupid religious joke where for a month, if you eat from sunrise to sunset you will be jailed and whiplashed eighty times by ███████ and crazy religious people, only for the month to be called “The Symposium Of God”), I said no, he laughed and said: “oh boy! you’ll die hungry!”.
As he went on trying to comfort me (in whatever way it was), and as it was the elephant in the garrison, he told me: “You know? I never talk to any soldier, I don’t know why I’m doing all this with you” and then asked me “What is your job son?”, I said I’m a developer (I had no intention to give the right answer, I just wanted to get away with the question), he laughed and said: “Oh can you buy me a VPN?” (the irony of that is, the ███████ and these people were the ones to put filter on the internet themselves), and I was shocked, and then he continued: “Why are you here?”, then the whole whole garrison shouted: “he wants to marry this girl, they want to migrate to another country”, he looked at me as if I was a crazy person and told me: “are you mad? you could just escape”, and then a command finally came out: “to go home”.
Once again we want to the center of the garrison, and had our time wasted, another commander came and said: “You have to go back home, so when we say, run to your courters and get your stuff and come back here, remember, out there people would want to kill you if you have our uniform, so by the time you reach the castellan, change your cloths to normal”
We went back to courters and everyone dressed in normal personal outfits, then someone came and said don’t! the castellan won’t let you out, so I changed back to the ████████ after I just had changed back to personal and went to the central yard only to find others wearing the same outfit. I was the fool. A friend of mine said: “Pouya! change! do it now” and another commander was there, the two of them got my stuff and I changed in front of that commander… It couldn’t get any more strange. Then we got our papers to get out, and then in the way out one commander hugged me and said: “Oh boy, forgive me if I have been so harsh on you, forgive me!”. (if you can believe that too.)
We rushed towards the doors of the garrison and there was no castellan, the doors were fully opened! you would only rush out…
You can’t bring your stuff to the garrison, it is forbidden. So we had to give our things to a hotel on the other side of the road. We had formed a line that lasted around an hour, in the middle of the line I went to groceries for two times, and finally got my things. There I called Zea , she was crying, and my phone was really badly broken (I had brought my horrible phone so that if it got broken it was already broken), and so I couldn’t hear her, and a heavy rain also broke out too. She was crying, and said “I’m coming to get you Pouya”.
Together with the rest of the friends, we were trying to get to █████, and when she called I got separated from the friends, and stood under rain.
The story was like this, in the morning when the war broke out, they had bombed most of the ████████ basements and garrisons, so Zea thought that something horrible would had happened to me, she goes crying, and then calls her sister Akbari and asks her that she has to come to me, and so Akbari , his husband Amin and Zea came to rescue me. I stood there, and got so dirty. I was wearing dirty cloths with which I had slept one night, and stood under rain for seven hours in the one morning, then had put them into a bag for a week, and now wore again under the rain. I smelled and looked like dirt. So Zea and others came, in between them coming I had called my Mom and also Amin and told them I was okay.
Six years of being together, I had not met Akbari and Amin. It was always a nightmare of visiting them, as it had been so prolonged that I had no idea what expectations might have been formed around me. When you know someone exists and you meet them, you get their idea. If you meet them in a month, you meet someone against your own fantasy and idea that was formed in a month, and now for me it was six years and so I had no idea how it would have gone. The weight of the seeing each other was higher. And so I always wanted to meet them in a perfect way, and instead of was at the worst possible state. I smelled like shit, had these glasses that I had bought for the ████████ and they were too big for me, I was bald, I had dirty cloths, and it was really sudden and awkward.
The two of them were amazingly nice. Zea had told many things about them over the years, but they were even nicer and lovelier than I could have expected. For the four days that I was there, Amin would always give his car to us, Akbari would prepare us amazing food, and they would even stay longer hours outside for us to have some privacy. I really loved them. Zea is really a jewel. I’m so happy that I have found her. There are millions of things in the world that are awesome, but she is just better. I love her so very much. I love her more than anything in the whole world. In all the people there, no one had someone as lovely as Zea to rush to him like this you know? She is just way too good for me. I really really really love her.
Any ways, we were in the car, and then it was strange. We didn’t know what to talk, and it was the most bizarre first impression. The only thing that Zea could bring was to find a place to sleep. We went back to Gha’em Shahr—their city—and stopped at Lare. Amin and Akbari said goodbye and gave their car to us so that we could go and take a little breath.
Having been freed, and in shock, Zea wanted to show me the nice places of the Gha’em Shahr, and we went to this dam which was an amazing place, it had so much forest around it, and then a lake, a dam, and a hotel near the dam. It was too cold, and rainy, we needed some tea, and went to the restaurant at the dam. It was a lovely place, surprisingly open (remember? it was Ramadan), and once we saw the food, the order changed from tea to Kebab. I had taken a charger and charged my phone and called my parents. They were happy I was alive and well, and they asked me to stay there to see what happens.
We sat by a fully glass-window wall, with an amazing view to the dam and the forests from the heights, eating one of the best foods you could find, holding our hands, and thinking “Is this really it? Are we at war?”.
It was a really really strange day. Some cats were playing in the outside and I was looking at them. It was amazing. The place was ran by an old lady, and yet it was a very modern place, it was fun. A long hall, with all sides of it being glass, and you could only see forests and lakes. I loved it.
[I’m writing this as of 30⟡135 , a two-days worth of interrupt]
We want back to Gha’em Shahr to Lare. Akbari and Amin, again, gave their car to us and said go have some time together. I really wanted to have some paper and a nice pen to write with during being there. So Zea told me there is a nice “Bookcity” in the Sari, we can go there and shop.
One note on the Bookcity
is a book + stationary retail franchise in Iran ran by some really nice and lovely people. It is one of the most beloved places for me and my family. Years ago, when me and Tanya were young, Mom and Dad would bring us there every weekend and we would shop for books and stationary. Mom always loved very strange things that were the mix of unusual things. She had many pens with lots of feather and cute things on top of them. She once bought a cat clock that looked like a cat, the hands were the cat’s mustache and the pendulum was a mouse inside of the belly of the cat. She loved these sorts of things, somewhat now I realize she has a thing for anti-environment products. Dad has always been a super hardcore power-user buyer. He would go to the most technical of the technical sections and question the seller for a a quite good minutes until he would come back and say “you can’t buy these things from here”, and then he would go hunt the whole city only to find a strange specific thing. Both my parents were hunters, only their tastes differed.
It was also that they always bought me anything, even if those things were expensive. Once I had seen this beautiful “DK Science Encyclopedia”, it was the most beautiful book ever, (still is), and my Dad bought it for me without a hesitation. We both knew if we had not bought it, it would have been sold, so he never gave that chance. Another time I saw a section of DYMO label printers, they were really really expensive, and my Dad asked me “do you really want these?” and I was so in love with this new concept that I didn’t know existed a minute ago, that I said yes so very very much. He bought me both an embossing label maker, and a beautiful heat label maker. That label maker is one of the most beloved things that I have kept for at least eighteen years on my desk now. Everywhere you go in my room, on all the things, there are black text on yellow paper labels, all made by them. I have bought so much from Bookcities that these days I only shop for the rare and expensive things, the rest, I have all the best of the best, through years and years of hunting for stationary.
And so, Bookcity is a sacred place for me. Whenever we go out and I just want to do a bit of shop therapy, I go to the nearest bookcity, purchase a some scores I know I will never practice, some harmony books I know are beyond my music theory, and if I have money, nice new pens.
And so going to the Bookcity was about the most “making Pouya happy” things she could do for me. We went to Sari, and it was an amazing moment. I had come free from the ████████ service, I had met the love of my life Zea , we were together in the war, I felt warm and safe. Mazandaran is a portion of Iran that never experiences the war. It is the safe zone of the country, and so we were safe and that was also heart warming.
All of these years, I had wished to experience Zea ’s life in her own city. She would always send me pictures and tell me stories, but there was never an in-person experience. You really don’t know what it means till you experience it. Long-distance relationship made me understand so much about being a human that I never knew. When you talk to a person over any medium, there is a huge Gutter ( The Fermata and the Gutter , , A Re-Examination Of Artistic Creation ) to be filled. When Zea had come to Tehran for the first time, I felt she is a whole different person. For a month or two I felt I have two girl friends, one that I see physically, and one that I converse with online. The physical Zea had so many body language specificities that I had never knew (by this time we were a year and a half together and never had seen each other before), so it was really strange. There were things that she would say and I would take to seriously, in-person I realized they were jokes. There were things she had not me noticed, and I had realized how big they were. I had read her tone with my own voice inside of my head for too long, I had not seen it in the first person. And you just don’t know how much “touch” means when you are deprived of it for a whole year. If previously we had argued and I felt angry, just being near her, having her hands on mine, would make that anger a thousand times less. This was the reason I understood how much is lost in the language. How much everything but the words mean. How much body, environment, gestures, smells, proximity, chemistry, little subtle signs, everything but the words that are spoken mean and are millions of times more important than those words themselves.
And so I couldn’t believe that the day I got free from the jail of ████████ training, be the day Iran goes to another war, be the day I finally meet Akbari and Amin, and be the day that I finally get to experience Zea ’s city, Zea ’s life, in-person, in reality, with herself. She was driving, and she is an amazing driver. She had her basic training in Tehran with me, but then I had never saw her drive as we don’t have a car. There she was driving and it was so awesome. She would show me the different parts of here and there, and I was so immersed. We finally reached the city of Sari. It was a lovely city. Warm and alive—also like nothing had happened. People were buying ice creams, streets were busy and full of happy people, she had lost the exact address of the Bookcity so we traveled a bit and I was so immersed in the city. I wished I could live in a place that alive. Zea found another bookshop that she loved, we parked near that shop, and went there. It was lovely, but I didn’t want to buy anything. we went back, I was cold and I had not went to the bathroom for a while now, I needed to visit the nearest toilet in emergency… We walked for a while in the streets looking for a toilet. And then I was freezing. It wasn’t that cold to be honest, but then my body was so weak and my cloths were horrible. And so I was looking for a hat and something warm to wear. After a few shops, I found this grey outfit that felt so warm and the price was good (I had little money, I had to be a little bit conservative) and then there was an orange hat, he had only one hat, and it was a seventh of the price of any other hat I had asked the price of, so I also bought that. Zea kinda hated the hat, but I kept wearing it :))
Once I was wearing something warm, Zea told me: Let me show you somewhere amazing. We walked together in many different streets, and she was telling me how these streets were parts of which of her memories. I was so happy. I just can’t put it into words. I craved to know these things about Zea , and there I was, in the most shocking way, there. I had no idea in the morning that by night I would be with Zea , walking the streets of Sari, discovering the locations of her photos in physical reality. I was happy for her. Her home is a really nice place, with great people.
After we had a few walks, we reached this place at the end of a neighborhood, it had a futuristic concrete wall, with a beautiful rectangular glass window in the middle and a thick black frame. There was also a black metal door, very industrial design there. We went into it and it was a super modern, awesomely designed cafe. Zea said: “Here! This is Samt!”, Samt (Farsi for “direction”) is Zea ’s favorite cafe, and rightfully so. Zea ’s extremely high standards on places never disappoints. It was a very nice place, with amazingly beautiful decor and furniture, the kind of light I crave for, artistic, cultured people, great coffee… It was the kind of place we use to go in Tehran all the time, and after being treated like shit, and among people of less than basic barbarian culture, suddenly, I felt home. After a long time, we purchased Mocha, and I couldn’t believe this would also be the day that I go to this amazing place with Zea that I have been dreaming of.
Going to Sari with Zea was one of the best moments of my entire life. You have no idea how much I love Zea , and how much I dreamed of finally being with her in there. And then factor in the loneliness, and ugliness of the past week, the sheer amount of fear and shock that war had brought with itself, my weekend body, my horrible mental state, and then to all of the sudden, be in a nice place with the nicest of people. It was so innocent, so beautiful, so lovely, so purely Zea that I cannot explain it. I remember crying a few times. Of just being so overwhelmed of all of that had happened. I wished if the would could have paused, and I could hold Zea for infinite time there. Even now, writing this has made me have a heavy heart, I want to cry somehow. There was a beautiful, happiness combined with sadness, pureness and innocence that is hard to explain. War gives you the impression that you may not be together, and that horrible feeling of separation, that was killing me, even remembering it kills me as well.
We went back, walked Sari for quite a lot, and went back to Gha’em Shahr to Akbari and Amin’s home. I had a bath and finally got clean. Then Mohammad ( Zea ’s cousin, and our good friend) came, he was laughing at seeing me there, he was like haha! how does it feel to be free?! and it felt great. We spent sometime together, Akbari prepared us one of her amazing meals that make you eat your finger with, and talked. I also talked a lot with my Mom and Dad , they were safe. I knew they would be safe, but then I also would call them every hour and then, just to make sure.
Around 10:00PM I became so exhausted and tired, that I could no longer stay up, and so I went to sleep. And then it was one of the most bizarre, surreal, and strange, happy, sad, confused, shocked, overwhelming, lovely, grieving, days of my life.
