People know me as Hamid Reza Ekbia. Who I really am is a different story. On these pages, I describe myself as a P.O.E.T., I write about history, politics, privacy, and existential angst, and I share images of the places that I’ve seen. But I’m neither a poet, nor a historian, a pundit, or a philosopher — not even a good photographer. I am, to use the words of the great Iranian poet Ahmad Shamloo, “a citizen with an average body and mind.”
And, like Shamloo, I am not fond of my first name, which like his, is an Arabic word related in meaning to “praise.” Looking around at what we do the Earth and to each other, I see little room for praise — least of all of myself.
My middle name is even less telling, having to do with “being content.” I’m anything but.
My last name, on the other hand, is an old word from middle Persian, and hence unknown to current speakers of the language, meaning “nerve.” Maybe it is my last name that gives me license to touch on so many different topics.
If I were a real poet, I would’ve adopted the pen name Pouya, which means “dynamic” and “seeker” — someone who is searching for something. For most of my life, that something was the duo of knowledge and justice. Other than my love for my wife and our children, my life has been defined as a relentless quest for these ideals. With age, however, I’ve learned that things are more complex and more interesting than that. I have not given up on the knowledge-justice ideal, but I’m searching for a better future for the world — a future of understanding, beauty, dignity, humor, and humility.
We are what we seek, according to Rumi. I seek a better future for all. I don’t know if my seeking would create a better future, but I will keep trying.