Feb 11th, 2011 by pedestrian
They may call us “children of the revolution”, but we are really children of war. I was born years after the revolution, but the war is what I remember well.
I still remember those air raid sirens so well. As does anyone who lived those days and nights.
So does this beautiful animation by Maryam Mohajer which I found today. Not all of us were talking about Jane Fonda and nose jobs, but I’m sure a lot of families did. The most you could do while taking refuge in the basement and hoping that it would not be your house that would be hit next, was to talk about life as if you were on the upper deck, as if you really had nothing but the likes of Jane Fonda to worry about. More than anything, hearing elders talk about such things was reassuring for us kids. I don’t think I’ve heard as much gossip in my whole life combined as I did while waiting in the basement.
In a weird, chaotic way I truly miss those days. I miss the basement, and the comfort of the family huddled there together. We would all live or die as one. Bombs and war may have been dancing in the sky, but inside, it was solitude and comfort … and peace.