I hug him and wish him a safe return to Iran. Although I am dead worried, I try to hide it. He is so happy to be back to his home town after several years, to see his family, his people, and all that is so precious to him that there is no point in discussing the dangers. I walk away from his house, I look back to see him one more time. I think to myself: “This might be the last time for a long time”. Then I remember what he told me few minutes earlier: “You are a chronic pessimist”. He said so because I don’t paint in pink the realities of Iran. I love my country, but I also know how things can go wrong if you are not prudent. He also knew that he was playing with fire, but excessive optimism had blurred his vision.

Today, I read in an Iranian blog that he has been arrested. I don’t know if the news is reliable, but I suspect that it is. His blog has not been updated for more than ten days, and I, the chronic pessimist, am already smelling something unpleasant.

I wish he will be treated fair wherever he is held and that his family won’t suffer much. I hope to see him as smiley as last time on the same doorstep where I saw him last. It’s not fun to have a friend in trouble.