A return to life? Yes, a hundred times over.
How I love Easter! It’s incredible. I wasn’t even brought up in the Christian faith. Never mind, there was a lovely little chapel in my school in Isfahan, right next to the playground, and my French teachers were mostly nuns, especially Sister André who gave me ‘0’ for spelling (well, I’ve improved a bit since then, with two Master’s in languages in my pocket, which helps!). Then there was our Mother Superior, who never stopped taking down hems on skirts… yes, the miniskirt was very much in fashion in Iran too!
Yes, I have a special affection for Easter, and it probably goes back to the year when my mother took her life in Teheran. We had been living in Belgium for about fifteen years: my parents, my sister and I. I was finishing my degree when mother left for Teheran, “just for a month” as she said at the time. She stayed there for four years but never came back. One day she jumped from a window in her brother’s house after a family meal, and that threw me into the depths of despair. What hurts me most, even now, is not that my mother can no longer hold me in her strong embrace but the fact that she suffered so much pain and anguish, leading her to think that the only way out was self-destruction, and also the pain she must have felt as her head hit the ground. I still find it hard not to burst into tears when I think about that moment and what she had to endure before reaching that point of no return. She, who was joie de vivre and charm personified, the best mother you could imagine. Since then, I have banged my head against the wall many times trying to feel her pain; now, however, it’s all over.
Yes, I love Easter. It represents a return to life, my return to life too. Jesus, that young man in his thirties who also came from the Middle East, said: “I was crucified and I have risen again.” For me, that’s what it’s all about: each us could find ourselves on the cross, subjected to a trial, having to deal with a tragedy or some insuperable pain. What we need to do now is spread that wonderful message of hope, the one represented by Easter: despite the cross, despite the unspeakable, we can rise again and return to life. Time will help us; accepting the traumatic event can be a big step forward, our nearest and dearest can take our hands, and above all there is love and all the pleasures of life that await us.
So, how have I reacted to the events that struck Belgium just a few days ago? As well as a feeling of exhaustion, I have seen everything from a distance, almost detached, as if it had happened somewhere else, on another planet. However, the attacks took place just down the road from me… I could easily have been at Brussels Airport or Maelbeek metro station that morning. Me, or someone close to me. Maybe because I have been living with death so closely for such a long time : hundreds of executions since the 1979 Iranian Revolution. Or perhaps, after the untimely death of my mother, my heart has turned to stone, or maybe I no longer have a heart at all? It’s possible… even if I may fall in love again, strangely enough. Is it a question of resilience? A defence mechanism to carry on breathing, walking and facing up to the world after dealing with the unspeakable, the impossible, the unacceptable? Maybe… I’m not sure... I really don’t want to know…
Three years after my mother died, and after seeing the film EXOTICA by Atom Egoyan, I wrote down a few lines in Persian in my blue notebook:
صلیب، صلیب، صلیب
The problem posed by the cross: now and always….
و انتخاب بین رستاخیز یا سقوط در منجلاب درد
Choosing between resurrection or letting yourself fall into the nauseating pond of pain
وانتخاب مابین اینکه انسان بگذارد روحش برای همیشه در بدنش قوز کند
و یا اینکه آن را به بُعد های دیگر اوج دهد
And choosing between letting your soul cower for ever in your body
Or to encourage it to fly high towards other dimensions…
وبا این همه، از جای آن میخ های کوبیده شده
روی دست و پا، هر از گاهی خون می بارد
Despite everything, to the place where the nails were driven
Into feet and hands, blood sometimes rains….
حتی پس از خورد شدن صلیب
حتی پس از گل باران شدن همه کویرها
Even after the cross has been crushed into a thousand pieces…
Even after all the deserts have been filled with flowers…
One thing is clear. After the attacks in Brussels, I have been deeply moved and incredibly happy to see people’s reactions. How little we tolerate violence in this country! I think this is a real blessing, and I am prouder than ever to live in Belgium.
The day of the tragedy, two things came to mind, one a fear and the other a hope: a fear that these attacks would increase Islamophobia even more in the country, but – even stronger – an intense and prodigious hope took hold of me. Now that we have all realised (a little) what it means to live in a country at war, now that we have felt what bombs can do, I hope with all my heart that we will start to put pressure on the Belgian, European and international governments and authorities to put an end to the war in Syria and Iraq. We have seen more than thirty dead and three hundred injured in a fraction of a second. In Syria and Iraq thousands of people have been killed in many years of war… the equivalent of all the population of Brussels, probably. I also hope that the emotions we are feeling will lead to a wave of empathy for the refugees, to show more solidarity towards the men, women and children who have fled their homes and country precisely because of bombs. Now that we have suffered this, it is high time we put an end to the war in Syria and Iraq, even more so because it will make us safer at home. In the West, we need to realise that our security depends on the well-being of everyone in the world. Nobody can doubt this anymore. The reasons – altruism, egoism, solidarity with others or with oneself – do not matter so much anymore, the time has come to put an end to all the wars on the planet. Why? So that we – us and the people nearest and dearest to us – can all live our lives in peace. It is as logical, true, clear and simple as that.
Yes, I have risen again, stood up and have decided to put flowers back in the deserts – mine and those of others – and live a passionate life, full of warm colour and exuberant music.
Yes, in Belgium after the attacks, despite the shock and the pain, we are perfectly capable of returning to life, of rising again, following the example of the young Jew from Nazareth who did not live too far from Syria and Iraq. The man who, despite the trial of the cross, continued to love, endlessly. I am convinced that it is precisely why he has been living for more than two thousand years, in the hearts of millions of people, intensely.
So, Happy Easter! And Long Live Life!
Azita Rahimpoor
Easter 2016, after the attacks in Brussels
Translation from French : David Griffiths
Photo: Brussels