There is something indescribable that connects those of us who come from the Middle East. I don’t know if every Middle Easterner feels it, but for me, it’s a tangible reality. It’s a sensation that defies naming, a feeling woven into the very fabric of my being.

The Middle East is vast and diverse, encompassing around 20 countries—primarily Arab nations, alongside Iran, Turkey, and Israel. Each culture within this region—Arabic, Persian, Jewish, Turkish—has its own unique identity. Yet, as an Iranian, I feel a deep resonance with them all.

Growing up in southwestern Iran, where Arabic language and culture is widespread, I feel as close to the Arabic culture as I do to my Persian culture.

To me, the essence of the Middle East is found in its land, its people, and its culture. There is a vibrancy in all these elements that fills my hearth with warmth and moves my soul.

I’m not naive; I know the Middle East isn’t the greenest or most picturesque region on Earth. Some of the world’s driest deserts are in our region. And it’s not a place of peace and prosperity—despite being home to some of the most ancient and thriving human civilisations. Currently, it is a region marked by conflict, a place where wars are raging on a daily basis.

But there is something about the bond with our land that defies reason and logic. It chains our hearts to our homelands in ways that are profound and unshakeable.

To me, the Middle East is palm and olive trees swaying in the wind.

It is the Karoon, the Euphrates, and the Nile flowing through our histories.

It is a cup of tea brewed with saffron, cardamom, and cinnamon, served in a delicate Arabic or Turkish tea glass.

It is the music of Abdel Halim Hafez, Umm Kulthum, and Shajarian.

It is the poetry of Ahmad Shamloo, Forough Farrokhzad, Nizar Qabbani, and Mahmoud Darwish.

The Middle East is an elderly woman seated on a chair at her doorstep watching children playing in Ahvaz, Beirut, or Damascus.

It is a group of elderly men drinking coffee and smoking their cigarettes at a small café in Baghdad or Istanbul.

The Middle East is my grandfather tuning into his old radio and listening to Radio Israel while having his dinner in a round metal tray.

For me, the Middle East is HOME.