I felt the war. This is the most accurate sentence I can use to start a statement that inflames me. On a day that my father told us that uncle Mohsen would not be back any more, When the exploding storm destroyed our lunch table on a hot summer afternoon in 1986; Where Grandma's lullaby became a song for my little uncle's night cries; I felt the war with all my soul. The Iran-Iraq War (September 21, 1980 - August 20,1988) is an eight-year war that is called the most famous and longest classic war of the twentieth century. The result of this war, was 200,000killed and more than 600 million dollars of financial damage to Iran. It ended with the adoption of UN Security Council Resolution 598 in 1988.The suffering that the Iranian people have experienced for eight years is not yet finished. On the hearts of mothers, the poor eyes of father, the war is not over yet! I was born in Tabriz. The first city to be attacked by missiles and bombed by Iraqi army aircraft I remembered that hard summer in Tabriz, which burned 9,000 people in a few seconds. I was six years old when my whole body was shaking with the vibrations of the blast wave and it still is shaking...I witnessed. Today, years after that day, I think I can now recount some of that sufferings with my photos،and I can tell to the world this war is not over yet. Maybe thousands of resolutions are written; thousands of politicians may declare neutrality; maybe there is a United Nations too, but my question is: Can we sing the song of freedom? No! what does it mean by all the pains that are on the walls of our towns? Here there are still the trace of bullets in hearts and walls. I want to show the face of war here in the heart of the Middle East inflammation, in a country that has been the intersection of soldiers for years. After passing 30 years, I want to ask the mothers who are wandering in their courtyards for boys who have never returned home، Mother: Is the war over?