I was born during the Iran-Iraq war in 1981. While my father was off serving in the army, my mother was my only source of peace and comfort. I grew up in the shadow of the horrors of war. My childhood memory is filled with funeral ceremonies of soldiers whose bodies had been sent home; women weeping and grieving while burying their beloved ones; women with distressed looks on their faces, anguishing over their sons or husbands who were off at war.
War and its aftermath have had a lasting effect on me. Even now, I still get nervous hearing the roaring sound of an aircraft flying over town.
I have, and always have had, the passion to discover novel and creative ways to explore the world around me. I have always been after a form of art that would facilitate an open dialogue between those around me and I; ultimately, I found it in photography. Through my camera lens, I can search for an answer to my intrigues and share my discoveries with others.
For the past three years, in order to have a closer look at the effects of war, I have been photographing people from several parts of the country who have been significantly affected by war. For the first part, I have been photographing people who have travelled to previous war regions, especially the front lines. For the second part, I have been photographing those who once fled from their hometowns due to the war and are still struggling to maintain a normal life. For the third part, I photographed the martyrs, the respected ones who died for their country.
For the fourth part, I am planning on photographing the women affected by the war: the women who did not physically partake in battle but who strived to help in one way or another; women who have been waiting for years for their sons or husbands to return; women who long to return to a normal life.