POETRY

I miss the view of a snow-covered mountain wherever I am
I miss homemade yoghurt
I miss putting ketchup on pizza
I miss holding onto my headscarf on the back of a motorcycle
I miss the clock always at 10.30 in my granddad’s bedroom
I miss the smell of the earth after a rain shower
I miss fresh bread and Tabrizi cheese in the mornings
I miss the sound of horns and formula one driving
I miss over the top makeup and hair
I miss finding everything in the bazaar
I miss the chandelier in the metro station
I miss the taxi drivers’ stories
I miss sugar cubes in different shapes and sizes
I miss clearing the lunch things and then taking a nap
I miss reading the blue street signs
I miss sunshine everyday
I miss striped watermelons
I miss hearing the call to prayer
I miss family late night debates
I miss the sound of the door buzzer
I miss the smell of a confectioner
I miss not being able to get up and go see my aunt or uncle
I miss tea made from tealeaves
I miss fitting 6 or 7 people in a car
I miss the artwork beside roads and motorways
I miss the lovely villas and apartments of north Tehran
I miss being told I look like my grandmother
I miss my grandmother
I miss the familiarity and wonderful foreignness of it all
I miss my beautiful family and friends
Until next year...