Iran Stories

سلام به همگی❤ this is a bl story, let's enjoy it. All the characters are created by myself. The rules of my world are imaginary and not everything is supposed to go according to reality. I hope you like it. love you all. paria این داستان بی ال هست. تمام کاراکترها ساخته و پرداخته‌ی ذهن من هستن و تو دنیای واقعی وجود ندارن. اکثر قوانین ساختگی هستن و ممکنه یه سری چیزها طبق واقعیت پیش نره. امیدوارم بتونیم کنار هم از این داستان لذت ببریم و ازش خوشتون بیاد. لاو یو عال پریا

Some books exist to entertain. Others are meant to educate. And then there are those rare texts that make the reader feel like an accomplice-not to a crime, but to an act of understanding. The Iranian Diary belongs to this rare breed. The cycle comprises three novellas-Isfahan, Shiraz, and Fordo-which must be read in that precise order, even though Shiraz is chronologically a prequel. This is no authorial whim, but a deliberate architectural choice: each subsequent story subverts your understanding of the last, much like flipping an hourglass only to discover that the sand had been flowing the wrong way all along

You should probably not want to get a girlfriend through swapping bodies with the famous hot guy, right?

LABBAIK YAA HUSSAIN(A.S) Dedicated to all the Hussainis out there!

Novel: None of the ladies were clear; that crown would not only bring them recognition and love, but it would immerse them in the intrigue of a kingdom. From her noble childhood to the intense suffering of facing responsibilities much greater than herself, Esther will have to make one of the most complicated decisions of her existence. Esther will bear the weight of her family and a country on a possible crown. Would the mystery of her arrival be the opportune moment or the beginning of a disaster?

Was this a defining moment in disguise. Is everything today the way it is, whether good or bad because of that one moment. I was 13 playing tennis in the local park. Daniel my friend accidentally hit the ball over the chicken wired fence, a boy watching runs to grab the tennis ball for us, but before he does a local boy picks it up and starts running away with the ball. The boy who was Hoping to get the ball for us trips the local and takes the ball of him and throws it back over the fence to us. Daniel and I continue playing but it wasn't too long before that local young boy, came back with what looked like adults, his father and fathers friends and brothers and brothers friends. That young local boy pointed at me and they all came into the tennis court. The word paki were causing me the pain while they hit me with mine and Daniela tennis rackets and their fists. I was kicked in the head multiple times but felt very little. As they stopped, Stuart picked me up and said let me help you. Stuart was a kid I knew from the local boys brigade. As I smiled and the comfort of him helping me up, he punched me. I was found in a stream just behind the tennis courts by a woman walking her dog. 31 years later a life of working in a petrol station in Jamaica Queens at 18, working in a burrito factory in del mar San Diego at 20, owner of a fish and chip shop in Camden Town at 21 where local gangs would hide their drugs in my basement, the owner of an estate agency at 44, a Brazilian jiu jitsu coach for kids and training as a blue belt under Onuma. My dark side won't leave me at 44. The Answer it is because of that one defining moment. It wasn't the beating or the racist names shouted, it was that smiling face, that moment of me feeling safe to then be knocked down.

Love that forms between two lovers from different countries, and how the era of oppression and instability under ISIS shapes this relationship differently.