Green 
Brackets 
in 
Red 
Ashoura -by Mansoureh Shojaee


Feminist school (my friend Ghandom)
The following article is written by Mansoureh Shojaee. She has been arrested at her home at 3:30 am. on Dec. 28, one day after Ashoura. She and other activists who were arrested the same day are still in Evin prison without any charges.


Green 
Brackets 
in 
Red
 Ashoura

Tehran’s Neynava tried to turn green today… I noticed this when I left home towards the vacant house of my late mother, when I felt dumbfounded by the scenes of the streets. …. The scenes that would be narrator of bloody events of killing and violence, the scenes would tell us how the green brackets and the myth of the non-violence protest gave in, under the brutal attack of the aggressors, an uncharacteristic and unequal retaliation. 


It was not a city, it was a neynava…. It was not a day, the noon time prayer was the story of Ashora’ today,…It was not a street today, it was the desert full of hard stones of Karbala today…. It was not raining stones, but was the shooting of hatred and animosity today,…… There were bags of sands to be used on those days that the blessed snow would fall upon us to preventing the cars from sliding over slippery roads. But today people used the same bags just to make a green brackets against the police cars and motocycles ,who assumed the entire roads and the highways in town, to be protected against their attacks.

Who were those who saw the green brackets but still did not stop throwing dust into the face of our youth?

Who were those who had come, with pick up trucks to assists the police motorists, who picked up the youth, thrown them in the back of the truck, had appointed police armed with batons above them, lest them not to raise their head so people would recognize them.?

Who was the one whom police and basijis ran after, with batons and lashes, screaming Heidar, Heidar, fed him with death?

Who was the one who would refuge to the safety of women’s chadows and scarves to give a momentary rest to his wounded and quivering body?

Who was the one who, with her gray hair and full gathered skirts, leaning on her cane, walked to help and save that young fellow from under the feet of the attackers, one who herself fell down few times? Who was the one who screamed: “we do not burn none but garbage just to sooth our burning eyes from teargas, we are not rioters, we are not vandals.” The one whose voice was shut off and his half alive body was carried away?

Who was the one whose naked body , on the ground, as if a hunted prize, was surrounded with thugs who were kicking his young body, competing to win the honor that would come to them the day after. Who was the one whom with a shirt over her bloodied head was placed on back of motocyle and was screamed at “You ….. why you are making noises …oh, they will drop her few blocks further to get lost.” Such a lie! Don’t they even mark her grave?, Like many others before her?

Who was the one who was killed? … That thin boy?... That boy with smiling face? …That women who was like a mother to all the boys in town? That man who was the ultimate love in the world? That girl who with her V sign would endow green victory elsewhere?

Which ones were led to the grave? Number was four; though, four hundred tales of their death could be chanted today…

Who were those who were standing in long lines of stew offering as vowed.

— - They do not follow us to this line...
— -We would better not to go hungry to Kahrizak...
— -The Ashorua’s lunch should be eaten any way...
— - The line is short, lets get our food till we find out what will happen next….
— - We are not going home. We would be here for a while, then lets not to stay hungry...
— -Really, how could they swallow this food…
— -What sort of announcement is this? Never mind…
— -People are getting killed and these people are waiting to receive some food...
— -this is a real Ashoura food. It is worth to be eaten.

And who was the one who kicked the pot full of the cowed food and splashed “God’s blessing” in the street and said “ get lost! All of you, we do not even give you a damn thing”.. was it the water he would deny from everyone?

Alas… that today all those non-violence teachings, under the violent attacks of the aggressors, slowly and calmly wrapped in a halo of pain and sadness, turned unwillingly to an unequal revenge to be immune of further lose. Our youth, naked with only one shirt on, sad and angry, midway through the violence, still did not know why they should be the target of that much of fearful violence of the aggressors….. and alas, Tehran paid exceeding price today!

Translated by: Mina Siegel

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