Rain

" I remember flying from tehran to London, and then from London to Oxofrd, and thinking to myself: How is it possible that I was in Tajrish, on Pahlavi Ave in Tehran some 8 hours ago, and now i suddenly found myself on Queen Street in Oxford. I remember vividly that I could not make any sense of it. My feelings, my mind, even my body was stretched between continents, and I had to accept it. It was strange.

You will have a lot to ponder about this week, to find yourself back in London, and to make sense of what you feel now that you are back. You know, an iranian friend is going to London this weekend for 2 months for an internship, like many others. I had to show him last night, on the Tube map, the whereabouts of his office and his flat. After so long, i used that map, and felt I am getting in touch with a lost part of my mind. That map felt secure, safe and familiar. It was in my pocket for three years, I knew the order of the stations of each line, the red one in particular. Marble arch or Baker st was where i always got off from the oxford coach and invited myself to a long walk and coffee on oxford street, behind selfridges in those italian cafes, where many of my poems are signed and dated. The last time though, was when I left the american embassy on Grosvenor Street, and went to an old cafe -i don't remember the name- and wrote a poem called "the embassy". That was my last visit from London, followed by an evening in Zuma, and a trip back to Oxford. Now that I look at this map, I realized what a large portion of my childhood, my formative moments, as well as my twenties, is left there. I woul do anything for a short visit from that city this summer, but you know it is sort of not possible now. I don't know how long I can handle this anger, this frustration, for not being able to get out of this country without risking my studies, my visa and my return. Last time I was in london was 19th of June, the embassy day which turned out to be a beautiful day and eve, once I was over the long queuing for my visa interview. It will soon be a year, but i feel it is ten years already.

It is pouring here, the rain will not stop until the weekend. It is Mansoon season here I guess. A bit gloomy, and heavy, heavy rain... I envy the sky, I wish I could cry like this now. I can't, it is a while that I am carrying this unknown thing , clogged in my throat, and it wouldn't become tears. I need to fly."

From a letter to a friend who works in London - June 2006 - The other Cambridge, MA