About a girl

So the world is reeling from footage it saw yesterday plastered on youtube, facebook, news sites etc about a young girl named Neda getting shot in Iran. She was standing with her music teacher, watching the protest and for reasons we will never know was targeted by a single bullet that pierced her heart. She collapses as people around her try to aid her. In less than two minutes, blood pours from her mouth and nose covering her face, except for one eye, that stares lifeless as her young life is extinguished. I was drawn to that eye, hugged by her perfectly groomed eyebrow. I wondered to myself, was she thinking anything? Did she know she was about to die? Did she love someone? Was she thinking of him? The crowd was screaming "don't be afraid, don't be afraid" and you can hear her teacher's cries. Was she afraid?

Many may watch the events happening in Iran and find themselves unable to relate. But let me tell you something. The geography may be different but youth is youth everywhere. In the past few weeks facebook had opened up in Iran after having been blocked. I saw many I knew in Iran rapidly joining and getting in on the craze. I got quiz requests. I got gifts of hugs and kisses. I got pictures from Iran's new years celebration. I read about the bands they liked, the food ( sushi!!) they love, their favorite sports team, or the latest movie seen on bootleg video or on banned satellites. And I saw the jubilation they shared online regarding the upcoming elections, how they turned their avatars green and how they encouraged everyone to "rock the vote". Does this sound familiar? No, they are not that different from you and me. But the geography is different. And that makes all the difference.

Because of where they live, they share what they should be able to share openly and in the public, on the pages of a virtual society. Because the one they live in won't let them live.

Neda has become a martyr in that cause, that is all about being free to live your dreams. Being free to be who you are. Being free to choose your destiny. Neda was not given a choice about dying . A bullet decided that. But Neda made a choice about living, that fateful day when she left her house to join the protesters. She chose freedom.

Rest in peace Neda

I leave you with this song, one that I have been listening to in the past days, when I can cry no more for the youth of Iran that are so bravely fighting for their rights, knowing each day that they may not be returning home that night. It is a hopeful song. About the ending of the winter of our discontent.