The Voice of the Burnt Flowers of the Land of Iran Under the Radioactivity of Religious Despotism - 2003-06-20

I am Majid from Iran - I hope all of you in the Persian section of Radio America are well. I had a text regarding the second of Khordad 76. Where should I start? From what time should I define? I will start from the beginning; we were a small, weak embryo 25 years ago, but from that time we heard voices, there was an uproar everywhere, the sound of sirens and gunfire was still coming. Like all small embryos in the world, we were in the process of formation, but no one thought about what our future would be. From that time, we felt hardship; the pressure of religious despotism, fear, and fanaticism was imposed on us, and we saw things we were not accustomed to. We were used to the beauty and tranquility of paradise, but we faced horror and slaughter. The sound of crying was stuck in our throats like a stone; a lump filled our existence, and we did not know what had happened. We grew older, and the time for learning began. From the age of 6, we heard that other children were afraid of school. Like others, we went there. Yes, on the surface, it was a place of education, but it was only beatings, fear, and long hours of pressure that were imposed on us. Again, like the past, despite our inner will, we moved forward. Many mothers sacrificed their paths for us and withdrew from education. We grew older; it was the middle school period, filled with slogans of 'Death to America' and 'Death to Saddam'... There was no day we went to class without a slogan. The atmosphere was one of brainwashing children; they were forced by every means to instill their way of thinking. We passed through childhood, becoming familiar with the horrors of a hard war. Eight years of war passed as we grew older. We moved forward to high school, where we heard and saw how they burned the love and affection in our hearts and broke our small hearts. We passed again to university, and then we heard another voice in this chaos, a voice more beautiful than what existed, soothing and heralding the time of 2/Khordad 76. A voice from within came that promised a different life (Khatami) said: 'My slogan is not death, it is life.' Six more years passed, and in these six years, we saw all the past hardships at once. We united in universities and formed a single voice. We were able to hear what was beyond this camp of horror. We saw much more beautiful what our peers had become and where they had reached. Yes, this time the enemy's bullet had struck our hearts; we were defeated and vowed not to listen to the voices of these false enemies anymore. Today, at the age of 25, we find ourselves in disbelief, having lost half of our lives. Our hope is in God and the future. We are the burnt generation, a generation formed under a fire worse and more burning than atomic bombs. This is the voice of the burnt flowers of the land of Iran, which has sprouted and lives under the radioactivity of religious despotism and the dictatorship of the Guardian Jurist, a dictatorship that struck us with the greatest whip in the name of God and the Prophet. We are from a generation that will build the future of this country.