A letter by Mahdieh Golroo from prison on her wedding anniversary:

They smell your breath…making sure you never said I love youThey smell your heart. It’s a stranger world. (from a poem by Ahmad Shamloo) They smell your breath! Perhaps Shamloo never thought that this poem of his became a real testament to 32 days of solitary and three months of imprisonment.

While I was been interrogated at one moment this line of his poem went through my mind and I asked the interrogator: “what’s the reason for Vahid’s arrest?” and as abrasive as ever, he replied: “since we knew how close you two were and we knew your relationship, we knew that while he is in prison, it would be easier for us to make you talk”. At that moment I felt like they have smelled my breath and they have found out about the love we had grown in the back room of our house. But love is not like inheritance money to stay secret in the back of your pockets. I want to bring this love out in the open.

It doesn’t matter what people say. One must write transparently, whether you write of love or of justice. The language is so clear that even if the stupid people read it 100 times, they still won’t be able to understand. This feeling stayed with me until today, our anniversary and I use this occasion as an excuse to write about it.

My dear with the memories of ward 209 we can now say that we were able to love each other at the biggest enemy den and we can say that we were alive. And now, three months after the last time I saw you without these rusty glasses and here is another document to prove their ‘justice and compassion’. But just like injustice was able to come over us, justice will also overcome some day. And this is the result of the efforts of our generation who was born in the dark years of war and years later fell in love. This love tells us not to lose hope because good years are waiting around the corner. But my dear love through the nine months I have spent without you, our lives were tried and my songs echoed through each prison bar and each wall.

Here, everywhere you look you see separation. My days of my 25th year pass in a corner while being imprisoned. The days are lost and the bitterness grows on my tongue. My freedom looks faded and I have lost a lot and I have not even gained little and I have been sacrificed by things I cannot have. They say that in prison evenings are heavy and nights squeeze one’s soul. If you see sorrow in my eyes, it doesn’t belong to me. My sorrow is no more than the sorrow that lives outside these walls where injustices had made it unbearable. Here it’s only being away from your that makes me cringe. Here nobody can love anyone as much as they love their freedom…but I can…

I know that doubts turn into a big weight on your shoulders and your hope will be lost in defeat. But it’s at the very same moment that you have to remember that fighting for a better life brings us ‘alive’. It does not just bring us ‘living’. If you had not saved yourself from everyday routines and had you not thrown yourself out there, you would have turned into a spring well in a mountain where aside from the sheep and the shepherds no one would have come for a visit. You would have been a spring well who would have no visitors but the old wolves. But now our lives have turned into a sea where the water never reeks of staleness. Today there is a big distance between us and I am afraid you will think that I have chosen my rights over our love but your love was part of my right that has been denied to me along with all my other rights. And at this point I am full of desire for you and pregnant with big changes to come.

“A bit of patiance…and the dawn is near”

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