Readers of this blog may be excused for thinking the blog has a religious and political slant:
In the Name of God, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate
Oh Almighty God, please, we beg you to send us our Guardian- who You have promised us- soon and appoint us as His close companions.
During the era that nobility was a prestige and living in a city was perfection, I was born in a poor family in a remote village of Garmsar-approximately 90 kilometer east of Tehran. I was born fifteen years after Iran was invaded by foreign forces- in August of 1940- and the time that another puppet, named mohammad Reza – the son of Reza Mirpange- was set as a monarch in Iran. Since the extinct shah -Mohammad Reza- was supposed to take and enter Iran into western civilization slavishly, so many schemes were implemented that Iran becomes another market for the western ceremonial goods without any progress in the scientific field. Our Islamic culture would not allow such an infestation, and this was an impediment in front of shah and his foreign masters’ way. Thus, they decided to make this noble and tenacious culture weak gradually that Iran be attached strongly to the west as far as its economy, politics, and culture was concern. After the implementation of this policy and the unreal and outward of upswing, the villagers began to rush to the cities. Upon the enforcement of the land reform, the status of the villages became worst than the past and villagers for earning some breadcrumbs, they were deceived by the dazzling look and the misleading features of the cities and became suburban and lived in ghettos.
My family was also suffered in the village as others. After my birth -the fourth one in the family- my family was under more pressures …
Somehow I just don’t see Ahmadinejad uploading photos from his family holiday to this blog …
(Source: What About Clients?)