By Pooneh Nedaei
Editor-in-Chief of Shokran Magazine – Iran
TEHRAN: As the world has witnessed, Iran endured 12 days of imposed war. We experienced aggression firsthand and lost over a thousand of our military and civilian citizens.
I live in Tehran, where the sound of air defense systems and explosions filled the air and the sky. The nights became familiar with the roar of anti-aircraft fire. The whirring of drones and the blasts wounded our souls, as we constantly feared for our lives and those of our loved ones.
On the final night of the Israeli attacks, the explosions and defense fire were at their peak. The noises became so overwhelming that we could no longer distinguish between them.
It was just past midnight, moments before the ceasefire—or an unofficial end to the conflict. It felt as if Israel had emptied its entire arsenal onto the city all at once.
I lay in bed and, like any Muslim, recited my Shahada—the testimony of faith. Then I got up and sat beside my mother, so that if my life were to end, I would at least have exchanged a few last words with her.
At times, the windows trembled, and at other times, the entire house shook beneath us.
It is strange how, in such moments, the instinct to survive simply shuts down. A kind of numbness takes over. I had experienced surrender to fate in different forms throughout those 12 days—but that final night was something else. I was filled with a surreal lightness and an almost joyful acceptance of fate.
In my heart, I felt content that if I died, it would be on the sacred soil of Iran, and that I had breathed beneath my country’s flag until the very end.
How small and strange are the personal stories of humans in the vast corners of this galaxy.
A few minutes later, the war stopped—or rather, an unofficial ceasefire was announced.I had been so deeply submerged in those strange and fresh emotions that when I returned to myself, I didn’t feel joy. Instead, I found myself missing the sound of the defense systems.
It was as if the Iranian defense fire had, until that moment, instilled a sense of security in me—and with the war’s end, my mind longed for those sounds to feel safe again, unaware that the war was over while I was still standing in the middle of the battlefield.
