The land of no land
They do not want you, Persian kitten!
October 14, 2002
Let me breathe. Let me just hold on to the rest of my energy and try to grasp another
piece of this thin air. I feel weightless. I feel as if my body is empty. I can see
this emptiness dragging me inside a dark, powerful hole. I cannot resist it. My whole
mass is changing. I have carried this emptiness inside my heart like a secret hidden
in my chest ever since my feet touched this land. Now I am being robbed of my identity
as a human being each single second.
In my mailbox lies another call for action, "NO
visas for Iranians... Washington DC, October 8, 2002 -- Representative George
Gekas (R-PA) has introduced immigration legislation that would ban all visas to Iranians
(except diplomatic visas). The legislation, known as the Securing Americaís Future
through Enforcement Reform (SAFER) Act of 2002 (H.R. 5013), will prohibit visas to
all Iranian nationals or residents. The bill reduces legal immigration by eliminating
several categories of persons eligible for Green Cards based on their relationship
to a U.S. citizen or Green Card holder..."
That easily translates in my mind into: They do not want you, Persian
kitten! You do not want to go back to your motherland. So, where do you belong in
this world?A cat with no shelter?
I am reaching the point of not belonging to any land. But instead of the
great feeling of independence, I feel like the fox in The Little Prince.
Belonging to a land is like being tamed.
I whisper: Tame me! I am a brilliant hi-tech worker. I come to your land, learn
your rules and work like a mule day and night. I will forget the color of the stars
and the warmth of the sun inside the cubicle that you put me in. Just give me a land
to belong to, to settle in, to feel like buying my dream home. Call me, lady of no
land, into your arms.
I look at the intangible windows beyond the walls surrounding me and I see
you. I am not alone. You are with me. Anybody who leaves the pearly blue beaches
of the Caspian Sea and steps down the airplane anywhere in the United States to study,
to live or to build that palace of hidden dreams, knows what I mean.
In these moments of weightlessness you are with me, believe it or not. You, who are
getting a second masters degree, or a third PhD; you who send resumes non-stop like
a robot to this and that employer, me who follows each U.S. immigrationn news like
a psycho -- we are all trying to hold on to this land, to show that we belong to
it. Yes, you. You are with me!
We all feel this landlessness, sooner or later. We cannot live in the land we left
behind. And we cannot live here against the wishes of the landlords, unless you join
me in building our home sweet home in the land of no land.