This blog is dedicated to the memory of Hooman Ghiaie celebrating his warmth, compassion, and unwavering support for working-class people around the world.
Love lives beyond life, and Hooman’s light continues to shine.
This space is not about me; it is a tribute to the values Hooman embodied—kindness, respect, and understanding. I kindly ask all visitors to honor this intention and keep this a place of remembrance, free from personal interpretations or misrepresentations.
One thing I sometimes regret is not becoming a medical doctor „helping people“, not chasing money, not because of salary, status, or financial gain. No academic title in engineering, law, dentistry, or any other field feels as meaningful to me as being a medical doctor directly serving humanity by treating people and easing pain, especially in countries suffering from war and poverty.
Engineering can improve the world in many ways,
but medical doctors touch human lives directly every single day.
Hooman, you are forever in my heart and in my mind.
On your birthday, I return to the memory of how deeply you loved Iran, its soul, its beauty, and the kind, simple people of its villages.
I am still proud of your speech in Hyde Park, applauded by thousands who stood together against the Iraq war.
Even now, through these difficult times, that love has not faded; it lives on, quietly and faithfully.
Though so much was stolen from us, without respect for your testament and also for you, even before you were laid to rest, and even my albums that held our shared moments, nothing can take away what truly matters.
You remain with me, in memory, in spirit, in every silent thought.
Politics was never my interest; however, in 2003, I once joined nearly one million people in London, together with Hooman, protesting against the war in Iraq.
Yet it is impossible not to notice the sadness of what has unfolded.
Both the politics inside Iran and the politics surrounding it from outside have often led to disasters. It shows how humanity sometimes seems to lose its sense of care and responsibility. So many people have died, and so many others continue to suffer.
It feels like a meaningless war without any real perspective or hope for resolution.
Hopefully, Iran will never develop into a country facing the kind of destruction and instability that we see today in places like Iraq or Afghanistan.
Tonight, I stood in the same park where, 31 years ago in September, I spent two weeks before finally finding a room.
Back then, the darkness was heavy, filled with fear and uncertainty. It was wet and raining, and I stayed awake, careful, trying not to sleep. Yet even in that struggle, I felt a kind of freedom, freedom from the violation of my dignity. For the first time, I felt that I belong to this earth, not to my relatives or anyone else, and that it is my home
Now, I pass through this park each evening on my way home from work, not as someone lost, but as someone who has walked a long road since.
The park itself has hardly changed, but I am no longer the same person. The years have carried me forward, teaching resilience, patience, and hope. The park holds my past, but it also whispers of survival, even as the end of life comes into view.
Sometimes a place becomes a mirror, reflecting not what it is, but who we were, and how far we have traveled.
We have come far, not because of our academic degrees or our wealth, but because of the strength within us, and the peace that comes from no longer fearing the end of life, but still enjoying it.
Hooman always admired Bruce Springsteen; not just for his music, but for the truth in his voice.
Now, when Bruce speaks about what America has become, I remember how Hooman was saying these things 30 years ago.
He could already see how the country might change, how it might stop being a land of hope for immigrants, and instead become a place of fear and division.
I’m glad that Hooman’s character, as described on his website and blog, has had a positive impact.
Hooman’s character was his true nature, coming from his soul since birth. It wasn’t something he tried to force or exaggerate to appear kind or overly human.
