Dedicated to the sparrows in the balcony
As I write this, it has been five months since I abstained from the greatest human addiction of the 21st century. From the busy world of the Internet. From the uproar over nothing in social media. From the labyrinth of the virtual world and from the land called Instagram.
I had an Instagram page full of followers. For six or seven years, I took pictures of the things that I saw in socializing with the people of Iran, Turkey, Armenia, Canada, and America, and I carved what came to my mind (you read into my heart) on the virtual walls of social media. Why lie? Communicating with so many knowledgeable people is not a small thing. But on the other hand, there was no day that I did not ask myself, what is all this for? To improve the quality of life? Or to engage the mind, spirit, intelligence and senses of us people of the digital age without stopping? We, each of us, as much as our seven ancestors, have experienced confusion in this era. I felt like a primitive man who stares at the sky at night and asks himself: Where am I? What is all this for?
In these five months, the earth rotated in the former orbit: the US Congress was captured once, and the army took it back again. Corona did not like Ali Ansarian and Mehrdad Minavand. Dunya Jahanbakht’s followers increased by one million. Twitter and Facebook took Trump by the collar and threw him out. Rafiq Shahab Hosseini arranged a Pfizer vaccine for him. The NASA spacecraft landed on Mars and took a picture of the sunset on Mars for us (and how strange that the sunset is boring even on Mars). Analysts are still grappling with the possibilities of failure and victory of the negotiations. The stock market monster devours people’s property. Dear appointment phrase? It has been added to the rich Persian literature and the politicians are still hitting one on the shoe and the other on the nail. In the meantime, Shadmehr Aghili unveiled his gambling site, so that we don’t forget that even nostalgia can be ruined. Thousands of people left the mortal world during this period, and of course, the sound of the first cry of thousands of babies filled the homes with light.
Where am I in the fluid flow of this life? Where are we in the fluid flow of this life? Maybe we really need to slow down sometimes and not worry if the rest of the people go with the roaring waves of life and we sit on the beach and watch. Something like stopping the image in the most sensitive moment of an action movie, where the main actor puts the pistol on the second actor’s temple and the stressful sound of the movie’s music captures the brain, and pay close attention to the sparrows chirping in the balcony. They have put their heads together. The sound of real real life.
Mahdi Maarif
This post is written by monese_ghamgosar