SIR Gerald Kaufman, the veteran Labour MP, yesterday compared the actions of Israeli troops in Gaza to the Nazis who forced his family to flee Poland.

Over the past week I have written 4 entries which I subsequently deleted because nothing I write portrays the sheer magnitude of the GAZA HOLOCAUST. The Israeli’s are tormenting the Palestinian’s and they think by military action they are teaching them a lesson. Little do they know that with every person they kill they are planting a seed of hatred in the heart of those they leave behind. Why are those who experienced the holocaust, and were tormented by the Nazis, now tormenting others?

Many people are disgusted by what’s happening in Gaza right now. A few days ago I asked a colleague her opinion and was astonished by what she said. She looked at me and said:
“I have no opinion. I don’t want to know and I don’t really care. Lots of people in the world are dying. I can’t do anything about it so I don’t care”. This was the opinion of a young girl who is half English half Pakistani!!
There is very little we can do about it but by hiding our head in the sand and pretending it’s not happening we are just fooling ourselves. There is a rally today in Hyde Park. My son and I are going and although I’m sure it will do nothing but add two more to the statistics of those who show up, at least we are telling the world we disagree.

We woke up at 3 in the morning with the concerning coughing of our little hazelnut. He had a temperature and didn’t look well at all. Amir decided that he had “croup” and that he needed to be seen at the hospital. While it was still dark we left the house and were taken to the Royal Free Hospital. It brought back so many old memories and it hadn’t changed very much at all. It was where Amir had trained for 6 years.

He had the preliminary examination by the medical staff who also diagnosed him with croup and gave him some medication to help with his temperature and in true Ahmad style he resisted everything. When the paediatric SHO came to see us he introduced himself to Ahmad (or Sayeed which is the annoying way they refer to Seyed Ahmad) and the little conversation they had went as follows:

SHO: Hello sayeed my name is (xxx) and I want to examine you. I am a doctor.
Ahmad: Are you sure?
SHO: Yes I am sure I’m a doctor.
Ahmad: Are you sure?
SHO: Yes I am. Now can I examine you?
Ahmad: NO! No, no, no! No

The poor Doctor was so embarrassed that a two and a half year old toddler was questioning his qualifications. After some TLC from the nurses and more medication we left the hospital and made our way home. As oblivious as always he rested his little head on my shoulder and drifted to sleep.

With the weather getting colder, and the glorious autumn leaves covering the wet pavement of our road I realise that a year has passed since the day we arrived at our new home. Despite my early reservations, I have grown fond of this part of London. It’s filled with sweet little bungalows whose residents have mostly lived in them for decades. Many of them are elderly couples who very rarely leave their little nests. They probably escaped the pollution and noise of the capital in hope of blissful piece. Indeed it is piece full here. The air is always fresh and you can smell the country side.
Over the past few months I have had the daunting task of looking for a school for my little hazelnut, who is little, no more! I have had the chance to roam the area in search for somewhere he will spend the next 7 years of his life not only learning but also a place which will undoubtedly shape his personality. I hope the decision we make will be the right one.
Up until a few months ago, the prospect of the little man actually going to school seemed like an impossible task in itself. I knew I had my work cut out and have been preparing myself for the big day in September 2009. Thanks to internet surfing I managed to find a local church which accepted pre-school toddlers for a couple of hours a day of play “WITHOUT PARENTS”. The first day I took him there was a very draining day for the two of us. He cried as I left him there and I hid behind the closed door and felt my heart being torn apart. He cried 2 full hours. He didn’t play at all and I felt pretty awful for what I had put him through. I don’t think I have ever felt so guilty before in my life. When I collected him he cried and told me that we should leave. This continued another 5 times! 3 months have passed since that unforgettable September morning, and now he wakes up every morning and asks me: “berim pisheh ninihaa?”

A number of you have commented on the music I have put on this site and wanted information about it. This piece of music was recorded in Tehran about a year and a half ago by my husband Amir Hossein Sam and his dear friend Mr Sina Jahan abadi. It is an improvised piece of music based on some of the melodies from Amir Hossein’s latest album “Zard, Sorkh, Arghavani”. Unfortunately the setar piano piece is not in the album.

Don’t despair, as they are hopefully planning to record a new album in the summer which should have this track in it.

For more information on “Zard, Sorkh, Arghavani” please go to:

http://sam.malakut.org/archives/2006/01/

It is the twelfth of April 2007. Exactly one year to the day I awaited your arrival in anticipation. I cannot believe how fast the days have passed and how much you have grown up. Today we celebrate your life and the anniversary of your presence. Happy birthday Hazelnut!

As our time here comes to an end I want to spend every minute awake. It’s different this time. The hatred, the envy the negativity the disputes, the dislike, the disgust, the detestation has all been replaced with one thing. This is something indescribable and too immense to write about. It has taken over. It is spreading and drowning the sorrows. It is engulfing the hate and making everything in its path pure. Its light is stronger than the rays of the sun. it has been shared and yet do they feel it like I do. Do they see the difference it has made? They ask questions but they do not know. They will never know the truth. They can’t comprehend the sheer size and magnitude. I know the few who know. I know because they DON’T ask. They just know.

“Love came and set the world on fire”

Ok, so I’ve just managed to put the little one to sleep again and I don’t have much time so I’ll make my contributions to this game of shab-e Yalda quick. I have been told to write 5 things about myself which not many people know about:

1. My biggest ambition in life is to do a bungee jump and to parachute off a plane.
2. I like marmite and hate chelokabab!
3. I am fluent in Avagav (a language invented by school girls)
4. I always wanted to be an archeologist
5. I am addicted to baby gap

By the way, he is now fully awake!!!!!!  

I have been thinking about the day we moved here and how uncertain I felt about living somewhere new. It seems like yesterday that we went for that long walk along the canal on our first evening in oxford. We passed beautifully decorated canal boats and people making there way home on their bicycles. We new no one in this magnificent city and our loved ones were left behind. We were excited about being here and nervous about what the next two years of our lives held in store for us. We ended up in the city centre by which time darkness filled the warm summer night. Almost two years have passed since then. We got to know and love Oxford. We found many new friends. We lived and worked happily. And now we are returning to London with a new addition. It’s true when they say ‘time flies when you’re having fun’.  We will soon close the ‘Oxford chapter’ in our life and begin a new one.

I will miss this wonderful city in which I have so many memories. I will miss seeing the students dressed in their examination outfits some smiling, some looking somewhat unhappy about the outcome of their exam. I will miss my friendly patients and the kind people I worked with. I will miss the colleges and historic buildings which gave this city such character and dignity.  I will miss our long trips to and from London on the red and green coaches and the journeys that I may not have necessarily enjoyed at the time. I will miss that canal which I passed everyday on my way to work. Oxford will always have a special place in my heart.

Now I know that wherever I go it is I who could make that place work for me. It is I who can make my life enjoyable or detestable.  So from now on I vow not to be afraid of ‘NEW’.

He is on lone tonight. It’s the strangest feeling. I know he is in the room next door safe and sound asleep, but I miss him so much. As I lay awake, I remember the first night we spent together. He lay in a small crib beside my bed in that dark ward.  Everyone else was fast asleep including him, and I felt tired and anxious. What if I couldn’t fulfil this role? What if I couldn’t understand his needs and interpret his cries? I didn’t sleep at all that night.  

When I look in to those dark eyes I see innocence. When he smiles at me it fills me with joy. I drop everything and run to his pleading cries for a feed. It melts my heart to see tears circulate in his eyes.

He needs me…. but I think tonight I need HIM more.

For the past few days we have had a very dear guest at our home. She

is a very special lady and with every passing minute that I spend with her I learn something new. She has taught me about love, devotion, patience and selflessness.

She is like the water that flows in a stream,

the early spring blossoms on a tree,

and has the scent of early morning breeze.

She speaks of her grandchildren with tears of love in her eyes. I can see she misses them. She speaks of the past, the present, the future. And every time she speaks I gaze into her eyes and try to picture her words. She tells me of her youth, when she was a girl and when she married. She tells me about life and its ups and downs and 18 years of solitude. Her soul is free and her heart is pure.

She is the true meaning of LOVE.

Today is the twelfth of April 2006.  It is 6.55am and the silence around me has provoked me to write once again. Today I enter a new phase in my life. One that many women around the world have faced. It brings new responsibilities, duties and it’s a time to put the need of another before my own. I have been getting myself ready for this day. But I think its something instinctive. The silence will be broken tonight. I will be handed a gift, a precious parcel to look after and nurture. This will be a new and exciting challenge for me and I pray that I can fulfil this challenge to the best of my ability.

My favourite time of the year, Norouz, has finally knocked on our door. Although spring has not yet arrived in Oxford and the trees remain bare, Sayeh ensemble have brought spring blossoms to our home. As they practice for their upcoming concert and fill our home with heavenly music, they remind me of the beauty of this magical season.

Sayeh Ensemble Spring Concert Friday 31st March 2006

Kamancheh: Sina Jahan-Abadi       Setar: Amir Hossein Sam

Tonbak: Amir Ali Sam                   Vocals: Ashkan Kamangari

Venue: SOAS London (Brunei Gallery),  Mallet St., London WC1H 0XG

Tickets: 07811 21 64 67

We haven’t had a winter like this in the UK for many years. It’s bitterly cold. They predicted snow for most of the country today. On the news it showed the beautiful snow covered Scottish Mountains and young children rejoicing at the sight of all that fresh white snow. I had hoped for a similar morning.

My little hazelnut and I are looking forward to a nice quiet weekend together- some soft music in the background, nice food and the anticipation of snow.