Omid Memarian

Monday, January 24, 2005

We Have to Return!

A few days ago, one of my good friends( Sina), whose writing I admire, expressed great joy at the fact that I had begun writing again. I am grateful to him. I hope no one ever abandons writing, not even for one day. And I wish that no fingers lose their connection with this beloved and addictive keyboard, which takes you to the expansive land of creativity.

We have to return. This unwanted destiny which forbids us from returning to writing is in contradiction to our very nature. It is in contradiction to all which is humanity. It is in contradiction to all written and unwritten laws of the universe. It is in the best interest of everyone to have each person engaged in their own work. You can’t force the writer into farming, the intellectual into editing children’s books, the welder into publishing books on philosophy or the logger into medicine. The journalist too has to write and this corresponds with the interest of everyone. Let us allow each person to move forth in his own right and place.

One night I dreamt that I was a fisherman at sea. And with every try I would real in tens of fish, creating great envy in other fisherman. But with every fish caught, every bite on the hook, every reel, with every word or praise by other fisherman, I would gain distance from my true self. Slowly the person I was became unrecognizable to the person I had become. That person, my true self, had died inside. I confided my predicament to another fisherman. He explained that for years he too had lived another’s life—a life he had never become accustomed to. One day I went to the city where I met an old man, who sold newspapers. When young, he was a merchant, and before he knew it, not destiny, but “destiny-makers” had wedded him to a newspaper stand and the occupation of selling papers--a bitter destiny, indeed. He too could not recognize the man he had become. He told me stories of estrangement and alienation. When I woke, I was soaked in my own sweat.

Many have chosen to migrate. For the sake of staying true to themselves, they have left. In this leaving, they have gained and they have lost. But, they have insisted and they have persisted--a persistence that deserves praise. Let us allow the pen to remain in hand, the police to guard the streets, the builders to create structures and the shopkeepers to sell their goods. The construction worker cannot be forced to be the writer, and the intellectual cannot be forced to be a cook, and… Let everyone choose their place and remain true to their chosen destiny, so that the wheels of society may turn, with the least amount of force.


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