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The men and women whose stories you can read on this page are now all citizens of a silent city named Omid ("hope" in Persian). There, victims of persecution have found a common life whose substance is memory.
Omid's citizens were of varying social origins, nationalities, and religions; they held diverse, and often opposing, opinions and ideologies. Despite the differences in their personality, spirit, and moral fiber, they are all united in Omid by their natural rights and their humanity. What makes them fellow citizens is the fact that one day each of them was unfairly and arbitrarily deprived of his or her life. At that moment, while the world watched the unspeakable happen, an individual destiny was shattered, a family was destroyed, and an indescribable suffering was inflicted.
He opposed the Shah’s regime from early in life, netting him an arrest at only 16. He would go on to serve on the secretariat of the Fadaiyan Khalq Organization.
His bookshop in Isfahan was a gathering place for intellectuals and writers. He was neither political nor confrontational, but he had a sharp wit and was firm on matters of principle.
“Brilliant,” people said of him, although his parents worried over his firm commitments. A friend recognized his voice, in prison, chanting the Qur’an.