🇮🇷 Tara تارا

On October 31st, Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi’s birthday, I want to reemphasize why so many Iranians have rallied around this man in the first place. The Crown Prince’s heart lies with Iran’s people as he’s stated so many times himself, particularly, the youth and their bravery. Aflame in the way Iranian teens kick back bullets to members of the IRGC. In the way that music of rebellion thumps loudly against the speakers they raise proudly in the midst of bustling Tehran streets, knowing well the risks of doing so. Or maybe in the way they chant his name, right before having their skin grazed by hard, bloodied steel. The Crown Prince knows what the Iranian people want—what they deserve, and that’s democracy. On his birthday, I want to remind the world that on November 7th he will be awarded the Freedom Prize from the Friedrich Naumann Foundation in Frankfurt, Germany. His dedication to liberty in his homeland has caught the attention of Germany, and it must capture attention internationally as well. Because soon, the millennium-old nation of Iran, will bear the human rights of the Cyrus Cylinder once more with the transitional leadership of Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi.

Clad in regal golds and bronzes. Wind whipping at roughed up cheeks stained with victory. Stiff flaps of a metal helmet slapping against cerulean blue skies. The very spirit of humanity flowing through veins of honor, and freedom.  This is how I imagine Cyrus The Great must have felt after having his policies of human rights—the foundation of many modern documents today—inscribed in Akkadian. So today, on Cyrus The Great Day, I write this as a reminder of the Iranian spirit. Perhaps an explanation as to why Iranians carry such immense willpower in the first place.  Because to embrace the flames that lick at your bones, coursing from every vessel of your heart, starts with honoring your right to liberty. Your right to breathe in a space where the wind paints your every breath with color rather than stomping it down to bloodied specks of dust. To dance in lands that build grounds for all and every faith and mind to prosper.  This is the spirit of Iran. Cyrus The Great knew this. As do each of us, Iranians. And soon—very, very soon, we will restore our golden lands, sprouting with damask roses in honor of every hero and heroine who fought for the future Cyrus The Great once envisioned for Iran. And for the future Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi, now intends to replicate with a secular, democratic Iran where all the decisions fall in the laps of the people: the heroes, whose hair will freely whip against the wind.

On the occasion of the late Shah’s birthday, I want to reflect on some of the words spoken in his final interview. When asked if his people let him down, the Shah expressed that the majority remained silent. However, he also noted that when future generations would look back on what Iran used to be and what it is now, they would understand the importance of his reign.  Well, as an Iranian-American part of Generation Z, I would like to say he was absolutely correct in that regard. The Shah paved the way for a modernized Middle East, fighting for the rights of women, farmers, and industrial workers long before many other nations had. These pursuits showed the world just how much Iran could shine.  And while today the seeds of courage and vitality remain rooted in the soil of Iran, they have been scattered. Crushed. But never broken. And soon, these seeds will bloom again. Because when the fires inside Iranian people ignite, they can set an entire dictatorship aflame. I like to believe the Shah knew this of his people, and soon, we will prove him right.

As an Iranian-American, I was able to exercise my right to vote today for the first time. When I inserted my ballot into the machine, my only thoughts lay with all the young girls in Iran—just like me—who don’t get to have this same privilege. Instead, they only get sham elections filled with the same rotation of candidates handpicked by the bloodthirsty Islamic Republic. Today, I voted on behalf of those silenced voices. My vote went to @SteveHiltonx, as he supports maximum pressure against the Islamic Republic in Iran—a policy that will protect both Iranian people, as well as the integrity and national security of the United States. I can only dream of the day the music of birds will grace the skies of Tehran once more, rather than the “morning prayer” and the choking sobs of mothers and fathers that follow. And thus, I will vote for those who believes in this future as well.

Najmeh Amini should’ve been enjoying her youth right now, not locked away in a dark, bloodied prison cell. If you’re a U.S. citizen, you can help the Iranian people. Contact your senators and representatives and tell them about the Iran Prosperity Project, as well as internet freedom bills for Iran.

Over a year ago, I was assigned to draw a portrait of a figure I thought as “beautiful,” in my art class. My thoughts instantly went to Farah Pahlavi, former queen of Iran in the 70s. When I thought of her, I didn’t only think “beautiful" in the aesthetic sense. I thought of beautiful in the intellectual sense. In the symbolic sense. 

While serving as a symbol for modernization and secularism in the 70s, she continues her legacy as a representation of strength. To this day, she supports a free, democratic Iran where the Iranian people will be able to choose what type of future they wish for under their own volition. Her priorities don’t lie with the power nor the title that comes with ruling a government. Instead, they lie with the hearts of the Iranian people, and what those hearts beat for in the first place: freedom.

HRH Farah Pahlavi helped pave the way for liberation in the Middle East. She showed the region that it was okay to be a woman in power. It was okay to be classy, dignified, and educated. That it should be normalized. 

May she soon see the day that liberty returns, with the leadership of her son, the Crown Prince, as a transitional figure. And may that liberty be even greater than before, blooming across every inch of Azadi Square and the whole of Iran.

Alireza and Mahshad: the love not even death could do part.

The last thing a parent would want is to have to bury their daughter’s dead body. When something like this does happen though, the parents’ wishes should be respected at all costs. Whether they be about when to bury the body, where to bury it, and who should be present at the funeral. 

So you can imagine how heart-splintering it must feel when those wishes are entirely disregarded and disrespected. By the government, no less, the same entity responsible for murdering that same young, innocent girl. Nika Shakarami was supposed to be buried today, four years ago, as per her family’s wishes. They chose the date because it would’ve been Nika’s seventeenth birthday. A day where she should’ve been flourishing, surrounded by the warmth of love and the light of friends’ smiles. Instead, the regime forcibly took her body, and buried her a day afterwards. Those promises of bubbling excitement when she would awake on her seventeenth birthday were crushed in the crimson-stained fists of the Islamic Republic. Seventeen. The bridge between childhood and adulthood, mercilessly torn down by a regime who will see a sprout and decide it looks better dried and greyed than alive and thriving. And yet, we know the truth. We know that Nika brightened up every space with her joyful, vibrant singing voice. Her happy expression, even in a shroud of darkness, and her beaming demeanor that sparked elated feelings in everyone who had the pleasure of knowing her. 
Nika, know this: your spirit will thrive forever. And your heart will be the pink in every blossom that blooms in a free, democratic Iran. Happy Twenty-First Birthday, dear Nika.

Mehregan, an ancient Iranian festival honoring the blossoms of the heart: virtue, kindness, and love. Tied strongly to the spirit of autumn, Mehregan marks the start of the harvest season. A time of preparation for the coming months, when loved ones will huddle close together by the fire as the frost nips at their skin. Because while the warmth of the fire might help, it is nothing compared to the heat elicited by the affection of loved ones. This Mehregan, it is important to remember the sources of warmth that had been frostbitten by inhumane, bloodied hands. Just before the ardor of fall could reach them, too. Young girls like Nika Shakarami, Sarina Esmailzadeh, and Mahsa Amini, who haven’t experienced a Mehregan in 4 years.  But this time, we will ensure that even if these young girls can’t physically experience another Mehregan, their spirits can. After all, their spirits are the very entities fueling the flames at our fireplaces. They’re candles that lick at our arms when we reach over the dining table for another helping of anaar, known as pomegranate in English. And most importantly, they’re the passion and fury burning in our hearts for them, the countless others slain by the Islamic Republic, and our beautiful nation.

It’s important to note this is also the first Mehregan without the monstrous dictator, Ali Khamenei. And maybe that’s why this Mehregan feels a little warmer, a little brighter, and a little more hopeful. May this hope soon brand itself onto every tile within Iran, and may the Islamic Republic face the harshest of colds until it freezes, and collapses into a pile of ash.  Payandeh Iran, and Happy Mehregan. Rays of sun will soon paint Iran golden under the transitional leadership of Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi. We are closer than ever before to the core of Autumn’s warmth: light, liberation, and life.

Last week, I had the honor of visiting the old Iran Embassy, as once operated during the 70s under the late Shah. This is a place built upon the prospect of diplomacy, friendship, and prosperity. 

Unfortunately, due to the occupying force that is the Islamic Republic, the Iran Embassy has since been collecting dust for 47 years. The petals of Iran’s once flourishing blossoms, filled with dignity and light, have floated softly to the ground, abandoned.  But not forgotten. Never forgotten. And most notably, not rotted. Iran’s colors are currently captured in the hearts of the Iranian people, threatening to burst with every rape, every torture, and every murder committed by the regime. And the longer these crimes go on, the stronger our resolve grows. 

The world must hold the regime accountable, and stand by the Iranian people. And one day soon, the old Iran Embassy will no longer be old. It will open its grand doors to the public once more, and allow every stripe of sun to shine against its floors, polished and prepared to be the grounds for a beautiful friendship between the U.S. and Iran. May Iran prosper under the transitional leadership of Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi.

Once upon a time, the old Iranian Embassy wasn’t so old. It once served as the grounds to facilitate diplomacy and friendship between the United States and Iran. Today, it may be abandoned, but it certainly won’t stay that way. May the Iranian people’s fire burn so bright, that warmth and light spill from this embassy’s panels once more. May we rise up, united under opposition leader Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi so strongly, that each of these tiles are colored more vibrant than ever before.

My speech yesterday for SF Protests. This is for Mahsa. For Nika. For Sarina. And for all the countless young lions and lionesses of Iran, who faced death all because they stood up and fought for their freedom.

In late 2022, a young Iranian girl stepped into a fresh new field of life, just shy of starting university to pursue a degree in biology, with dreams of becoming a doctor. This young girl was Mahsa Amini. And today, she would have been 26-years-old. She could’ve earned that biology degree by now, and maybe would’ve begun her medical career. But today, exactly four years later, we'll never know what would have become of Mahsa due to the deadly Islamic Republic. Similar to how we’ll never know how far Nika Shakarami would have been able to take her musical talents. Or how beautifully Sarina Esmailzadeh could’ve developed her poetry and social media skills. Despite the Islamic Republic trying to hold these girls prisoner under a bloodied sheet of oppression and crushed dreams, they woke up everyday and chose freedom. So for Mahsa, Nika, Sarina, and countless others, may we honor their lives by chasing after that freedom, and taking it back. With their spirits, full of fire, passion, and the unrelenting desire for liberation fueling us, our efforts cannot be stopped.

Below are Mahsa’s parents, in sheer horror and despair at what the Islamic Republic had done to their daughter.