... the revolution had not happened
By Mariam Sorond
February 6, 2001
I could have been the next Prime Minister of Iran. My wealth could have
been publishable trivia. My social class would have been at the tip of
the pyramid. My friends would now be among a thousand families that I could
count on for past reference and present glamor.
I would have completed my degree at the American Community School in
Tehran, rubbing elbows with the cream of the crop. I would have been be
a Harvard alumnus, moving along to Insead for reassurance. I would have
been a prominent member of the historical monument preservation society.
And solely based on this, Jaddeh Ghadim's name would have changed to Aghdassi-Sorond
in my honor.
I would be vacationing all over the world with no visa problems and
end up with elaborate albums of smiling pictures. I would be living in
Niavaran, and married to Ali Reza Pahlavi.
Instead... I have realized the importance of having an identity crisis.
Culture is not a set of values that one chooses to keep or discard.
Culture is more like a cult, it satisfies my needs for belonging. I find
it crucial to defend its pride at all times. I have two cultures to base
my ideas on, Iranian, and American; sometimes I use Iranian-American.
I am in search of finding the ideal Iranian man living abroad. I look
for love over the Internet and date countries instead of people. Democracy
is my solution to everything. I criticize every idea or organization created
under the umbrella of reform because they are never able to express vast
intellectual insight on issues. I have read five different books on living
In either case... Nostalgia, melancholy, sarcasm, projecting culpability,
sanctimonious talents of leadership, using big words to describe little
ideas, and Googoosh have contended me.
Disclaimer: The author is not making a pass at Mr. Ali Reza Pahlavi
through this article. The contents of this article are for amusement purposes