The incredible story
My life

My life

Birth

Since I was a child, I had a sense of being the son of a princess. I still remember the joy with which I used to meet in a hotel of Cerveteri or other places a young woman, with whom I felt at ease. I wished to remain with her forever, experiencing great pain every time I parted from her and returned to my affiliating mother Lucia, in spite of the love she had always shown me in her role. A well-educated elementary school teacher of noble descent, she was the woman who looked after my education in accordance with the legal Affiliation Act from the Turin Minors Court. She used to tell me about the very first time she saw me after giving birth to her true son Ivano. I was a small child weighing no more than 1.700 grams, while her first-born weighed around 3.800 grams. Strangely enough, in the delivery room they had covered her face with a cloth and, stranger still, she didn’t hear any crying. Having asked for explanations, she was told that her son was very good. When I was taken to her three hours after giving birth to her child, she had an immediate sense of revulsion, her maternal instinct failing to recognize in me her son. In the long run, motherly feelings had the upper hand and she ‘accepted’ me. I never found out what happened to her true son Ivano. It was said that in a nearby room there was a princess, and people kept coming and going with bunches of flowers. When I arrived at Lucia’ home, she and her friends noticed on my back, shoulders and torso big crusts, as wounds inflicted by a sharp knife. Very upset, she called a doctor who asked when the child was born. Lucia answered, “A week ago.” The doctor replied: “These wounds are at least 15 days old.” He then took notice of some cuts on my tiny ears. These were the highly visible and indelible signs of my sacred regal initiation called ‘Pecare Function’, exclusively done on the first-born and heir to the Persian throne. These signs on the ears, so visible on me, do not appear on my half-brother Cyrus who is not the true heir. Afterwards Lucia frequently stated, both to others and to me, that I am definitely not her and her husband Eugenio Tassone’s son. Moreover, having incurred heavy debts, Eugenio’s financial situation was hard until the moment of my birth, when properties started to arrive and with them large sums of money.

Childhood

As my affiliating mother Lucia told me, I was a beautiful and intelligent child, docile and respectful. One day she even reported the flattering remark of a teacher: “His talents of intelligence and character are far superior to average”. I had some health problems, overcome without relapses. Around four to five years of age, I remember long periods of absence from my Peveragno home, where I was living with Lucia. As a rule, I traveled with her husband Eugenio. I still recall an incident that occurred to me on a train trip to Milan, where I met a young woman of rare beauty and affability. Back home, I immediately reported the event to Lucia, as any child would do. In response, I received a big slap from Eugenio: I was not supposed to tell anyone. Later on, I met her several times in Rome and surroundings. I remember various flights to Iran by military airplanes. At times, a helicopter would take off from open spaces near my town of Peveragno and carry me to military airports.
Quite a few memories of Iran are still on my mind, even though recalling them has become a hard and painful experience. As a result, I managed to partly erase from memory “the Palhavi” (idiom for initiated, exclusively used at court) and the “Parsi” national language. The recollection of my father, Reza Palhavi, is that of a warm, but at the same time very hard person. Among the Palhavi dwellings, a few lodgings were assigned to me: the Blue Palace, the Green Palace, and the Golestan (the Rose Garden), the official residence of the Emperor.
I don’t know why, but I can still recall one of those rare encounters with my father and his unusually warm handshake (as a rule, he was not prone to showing affection). Then we crossed a wooded area and walked for a while together. Some people escorted us to a certain extent, until my father signaled them to stop and we continued alone. At the end of that wooded and fresh place we reached the walls of a building, we sat down on stones and talked for a long time…
Aged nine, I had to attend an important ceremony in Teheran, wearing a soldier’s uniform and hat. I remember that I didn’t like the hat, and took it off under my father’s smiling eyes. Pictures were taken with me holding the hat in my hands: on the same pictures my modified ears are plainly visible. Lucia immediately recognized me near to my father in a photo printed on a supplement of the Italian newspaper “La Repubblica”. I wish to draw attention to the fact that during my past life I have constantly been followed and protected by personal guards, at first on direct orders from my father and, later on, by other individuals who remained faithful to him. One event out of many shows how efficient their protection was. Aged 14, I spent some time with Lucia’s husband Eugenio at Saint Todaro, near Caulonia, an isolated village of the Calabria Aspromonte region, some 80 kilometers from Reggio Calabria. After a few days, Eugenio’s foul mood angered me so much that late one evening I decided to run away. I set off on foot and all by myself in the direction of Reggio Calabria railway station, in the hope of returning home to Peveragno. I can still hear the howls of wolves in the dark night. Soon, being completely alone and penny-less, I plunged into a state of deep anxiety and fear. After about one kilometer on the dark road, all of a sudden a car appeared and came to stop next to me. From it, a voice said in a friendly tone, “You don’t know me, but if you can trust me, I will drive you where you want to go”. I instinctively trusted the man and was taken to Reggio Calabria railways station. The destination reached, a middle-aged woman approached me, paid for my ticket, and then traveled with me all the way to Torino, enlivening the long journey with her pleasant company. Both of them evidently knew who I was, but firmly enjoined me not to ask questions.

Teenage years

Meanwhile, in Italy I finished primary school and then started my secondary education, partly at the Salesian High School in Fossano and partly in Cuneo, Corso Brunet 13. Before entering Secondary School, during the summer vacation, I was invited by the generous and well-educated Dr Fiorentina Beltrand, wife of Senator Spartaco Beltrand. Her princely-styled residences were located in the historical center of Cuneo and in the nearby suburb of St. Rocco Castagnaretta. Her interest in me was immediate. For some reasons that I cannot fully grasp but only guess, she strongly advised me not to follow courses at the Teachers Training College where she was headmistress. On top of this lucrative profession, she had also worked for many years in Switzerland, especially in Geneva, in her capacity as Ministerial Inspector. With her support and that of Angelica De Medici, I continued my studies in private, without paying salary to my personal tutors.
The education imparted to me during those formative years was not limited to the standard teacher’s curriculum but covered a broader and much more diversified range of topics, such as astronomical geography, crystallography, Latin, French, piano, and even painting techniques, taught by a painter of clear fame, which included soft crayon, sepia, white, and black. Mrs. Beltrand often invited her cultured friends to dinner, where stimulating topics were discussed, such as Adler and Freud. When I took my final exams as a private student, brilliant success was a foregone conclusion. The study room I occupied at the time in Lucia’s Peveragno residence was magnificently styled, with precious furniture in teak or camphor wood decorated with delicate Chinese inlay. It had four valuable clocks, one in full gold, the other in alabaster with candle holders in gilded bronze, the third an imitation of the London Tower bell and, finally, the most precious of all declared by experts a “Moisson par Bertoz”: all dating back to the eighteenth century and in perfect use. They were exactly like those exposed in Royal Buildings around Turin. Keep in mind that I am talking about the residence of an elementary school teacher, whose salary should have been barely enough for herself, her son Eliodoro, me and her husband Eugenio.

Youth

During my youth years, encouraged and advised by Dr. Beltrand, I followed a variety of courses with no clear goal, but geared to the study the human person and his or her behavior. In brief profile: I took biennial lessons of theoretical-practical orthophrenics for handicapped people; triennial lessons in psychotherapy and P.R.H. analysis, a diploma that enables one to work with groups of people, analyzing their behavior; another diploma on formal and informal group dynamics and mental dynamics; I was initiated to astrology and card-reading, with specific reference to arcane mystery knowledge. In the same period, in Persia, I was instructed by Sufis (Islamic mystics) and oriental ‘teachers’ on secret techniques for developing extrasensory capacities, as thought- reading, and the skills needed to establish mental contact with faraway people and to communicate with them. I have also received training in self-defense, judo and yoga from oriental and western experts.
From that period, I remember my father’s death which occurred in 1980 in Cairo, Egypt, not from natural causes but, as himself feared and intimated to me several times, by poison (I think, strychnine). At the same time, even if my memories are not as clear as I would like them to be, just before passing away and in presence of notable and trusted people, he reinstated me as his only heir, wishing me, his first-born son, to succeed him on the throne, even if he knew that this was not my desire and intention.

Adulthood. In search of my true identity

Finally, around 26, I became acutely aware that I could continue like this, without official recognition of my true identity. I was absolutely certain that my true parents were people of very high rank. Why, then, continue with this farce? I would always have a strong emotional tie with Lucia, my affiliating mother, but this would not keep me from telling the whole world who I really was and what role I was supposed to play in life. I began with the help of Sister Agostina Ferrero, a dear friend who had connections with high-placed people. She and her friends tried the first approaches to have an official document that, as we imagined, would not be easy to get. In fact, they immediately banged their heads against a wall. Sometimes, they even received verbal threats until, frightened, they gave up. Together with Dr. Paola Dimeglio, a friend with a lawyer’s degree, I went to the birth certificates office of Cuneo, applying for a normal birth document. For three consecutive times, in the presence of witnesses, I heard the same answer that Tassone Ivano was a “non-existing subject”. Persisting in the enquiry, we watched them consult an old register containing numerous side hand-written annotations, that we could only partly read; two visibly shocked employees suggested that we should contact the Court Registrar, while the third one delivered a sheet of paper with notes on my “trumped up” identity, without signature or date. More or less at the same time, together with Paola who by then had made up her mind to go to the bottom of that matter even at her personal and family risk, we contacted the offices of Mondovì Diocese looking for a Confirmation certificate. As soon as the cleric recognized me, he literally shut the door on our faces. We left without saying a word; soon after, the same man was running away as if he had seen a ghost! The chancellery office of the Cuneo Court of Law and the Minors Court of Turin on various occasions and for different reasons refused to deliver my Certificate of Affiliation of minor, even admitting that there was one. This is sure proof that I am not Lucia’s child, but was only assigned to her. Following these moves, I became the target of some strange ‘accidents,’ attacks and threats that, when reported to the Italian authorities, were not taken into seriously consideration.
Not only, but from then onwards I lost nearly all of my friends and ‘membership cards’ in different VIP circles of Cuneo and other cities. This caused me untold suffering. Next, I tried the legal way. A first fake court case took place in Mondovì (CN), where District Attorney Dr. Bausone, following accurate investigations by Policeman Luca Bonali in the presence of witness Dr. Paola, arrived at the conclusion that I was indeed Palhevi Savoia Garro Monhud. But he never issued me with a sentence or official declaration. I achieved the same results in Strasburg, at the International Court on Human Rights. And finally, a third unsuccessful attempt was made at the Court of Rome.

Why all this conspiracy of silence?

Lucia, who passed away in April this year 2005, used to say that Eugenio was in serious economic troubles before my arrival, while soon afterwards money started rolling in. It seem strange, but since the last years of my primary school I often had to go to the bank and sign documents, the significant point being that only my signature was accepted. Later on, strong pressure was often put on me, sometimes accompanied by blackmail against my dear ones, to renounce bank accounts containing large sums of money, even millions of dollars, in favour of Eugenio or other unknown persons. I have always wallowed in money. Let me just say that a single signature of Lucia was sufficient to transfer 80 million DM in 1994, and that she herself, a plain primary school teacher, was paying a yearly insurance fee of 40 million Italian liras. Every year on her bank accounts were transferred large sums of money, in excess of 1 billion liras ($ 500.000). In order to do this, my name had obviously to be added to hers on her bank account. I, for my part, in my capacity as “non-existing subject” for the Registry, or as “having no rights” for the banks (as official records issued by the same testify), did not even have a right to know where all that money was coming from or going to, while other people were managing it by taking advantage of my name and of the fact that I could not revolt.
Here is the true reason, if not the only one, of this large conspiracy of silence with which the system of power has surrounded on my life.
Unfortunately events seem to confirm Angelica De Medici’ words, “I am afraid your problem is beyond solution, for too many high-ranking people are involved in it and too many personal interests.” I’d better stop here, even if I have many more things to say. But I cannot avoid the bare thought of so many pains, deprivations, offences against the most basic dignity of the human person; it is so heavy to carry, that mentioning them reopens a wound that never completely healed. Even now, at 48, I continue to be a “nonexistent subject,” a “Mister Nobody” without a birthplace except the one officially imposed on me. For the time being, I am living in a hidden place for obvious security reasons and without any source of income. I am literally poor and penniless. I survive thanks only to the hospitality of some people who accepted me after making sure of my true identity, who love me and support me in the name of the Lord and of the Mother of all mothers. Two years ago I gave up my job as elementary school teacher because I am determined to see my true identity recognized, and with it all my rights including those connected with the huge patrimony bequeathed to me by my father Reza Palhavi, the “Palhavi Foundation” included which amounts to several million of billion dollars. I underline once again that no one but me has legal access to these capitals, not even my half-brother Cyrus.
Two more important things should be added. First, several times I have written, called, and met my mother, the Princess Maria Gabriella of Savoia, and only recently she came to visit me in person in the place where I am living now. Second, I have publicly stated that as soon as my true identity is recognized and with it my right to the patrimony bequeathed to me, the first half of that patrimony will immediately to be released to the poor of the entire world, and the other half upon my death. I have always submitted to the will of God (and will continue to do so), in the firm belief that in spite of human wickedness his true justice and that of Jesus’ Mother will triumph, at the appointed hour.
In spite of everything, and only by the grace of God, I never hated anyone who harmed me and continues to do so. I again entrust everything to Mary. You will find in this site more news about me. Keep on publicizing my story, for if falsehood feeds on silence and darkness, the truth lives on light and open sharing. If you wish, you can write to me at my e-mail address. Thanks for your attention. May Mary bless you and God reward you.