|
Fiction
and prose
Archive
2006
Nah nah, man ham siyaasiam
I'm political, too
Masih Mazloum
The shoes
The teacher dashed towards the little boy, took out his stake and raised his hand
Afsan Azadi
Persian romance
Part 7: Maryam wondered whether she might possibly upgrade her fiancé while fixing her nose and get back at Golnaz in one fell swoop
Payam Ghamsari
An American and an Iranian
The America and the Iran inside him were good friends
Siamak Vossoughi
Gooya rooze deegarist
Another day
Masih Mazloum
Maraakesh door ast
I got a ten-day vacation from the devil to be with him
Sheida Mohamadi
Digeh oon dokhtare 20 saale pish neestam
I'm not the girl from 20 years ago
Masih Mazloum
Khiaabaane Third Street
I met him at a party
Sheida Mohamadi
Brown
We knew that the best words were the ones that came out of silence
Siamak Vossoughi
Touba
Shahrnush Parsipur's novel reveals ongoing tension between
rationalism and mysticism, tradition and modernity, male and female, East and West
Persian Girls
Excerpt: latest book
Nahid Rachlin
Longing to touch the untouchable
On Sadegh Hedayat's "The Blind Owl"
Shadi Gholizadeh
Parvandeye akhlaaghi
Accused of immoral crimes, falsely
Masih Mazloum
From 30 to 63 in five years
Reflections on 9/11
Peyvand Khorsandi
The good Indian
Chronicles of Fredrick D. Sauma, Part 4
Farid Parsa
THIS is beauty
Far from “breaking my spirit”, Sadegh Hedayat's "Blind Owl" woke me up
Shadi Gholizadeh
Keraayeh-neshine otaaghake zire shirvaani
The girl in the attic room
Samin Baghcheban
The plumber
No sex and the city
Peyvand Khorsandi
No sex and the city
Sixty pounds for a bottle of grapes and this is what you get
Peyvand Khorsandi
Dar emtedaade shab
"I have to become a Christian RIGHT NOW!," Rashid insisted
Mohammad Hossainzadeh
Dar zendegiye shomaa, maa kojaa gharaar daareem?
When one generation is not as idealitic as the next
Masih Mazloum
A night in Brooklyn
Short story
Roozbeh Shirazi
Bahram khodaaye jang bood!
The God of War
Khodadad Rezakhani
The great library
– a dialogue
Peyvand Khorsandi
Haraamzaadeh
The bastard child of the maid and the master's older son
Shahriar Zahedi
The deep, deep blue
I am in my grandma, and my grandma is in me
Ladan Lajevardi
12 days of Christmas
Diane let me know just how different I was when she told me she was going to teach me all about Christmas or “get me up to speed”
Pirooz M. Kalayeh
Fereydoun Seh Pesar Daasht
New novel
Abbas Maroufi
Over afternoon tea
Photo essay: Hearing stories from Shahrnush Parsipur
Jahanshah Javid
The magic ring
Short story
Azadeh Azad
Simply a stunner
The proper etiquette of meeting Shahrnush Parsipur in the United States
Golbarg Bashi
Honeymoon
Night had fallen as they got to the gates of the beloved stone villa that had belonged to Mariam’s family for generations
Sanaz Salehi
Santa Maria
Chronicles of Fredrick D. Sauma
Farid Parsa
Vorood mamnoo
She was a sweet Pakistani shopkeeper. And married.
Shahriar Zahedi
Vorood mamnoo
She was a sweet Pakistani shopkeeper. And married.
Shahriar Zahedi
Taabestaane pish
Last summer
Mohammad Hossainzadeh
Snapshots of a day
"You sing a sad song just to turn it around"
Sara Darcy
Sex, love & football
I would rather watch the Iran-Mexico match with my man rather than David Beckham in the nude
Sarvenaz
Here we are
Capturing a new literature by Iranian women of the diaspora
Jasmin Darznik
Hymn to the waters
For Mother's Day
Azadeh Azad
All trees start somewhere
Short story
Baharak Sedigh
Zire poosteye shahr
Mother doesn't ask how I make the money
Shahriar Zahedi
The foot and I
One day, my left foot refused to support my weight any longer
Peyvand Khorsandi
Better late than early
Letting in their happiness seemed like the kind of thing that would leave a person headed for a fall
Siamak Vossoughi
Hedayat’s last night out in Paris
From M. F. Farzaneh's “Ashenayee ba Sadegh Hedayat”
Translated by M. Maleki
Mosaafer
In the back trunk, on the Mexican side of the border
Shahriar Zahedi
Mr Eshraghi
Sohrab Eshraghi taxed our tips
Peyvand Khorsandi
Writer’s life
“I’ve put my practice up for sale,” I said and poured him more coffee before adding, “As of next week, I shall follow my dream and do nothing else but write.”
Zohreh Khazai Ghahremani
Cellophane goldfish
A story of Norowz
Azin Arefi
Waiting
Short story
Saeed Tavakkol
Honey and Vinegar
Attitudes toward Iran's Assyrian Christians
Eden Naby
Love addiction
Part 1
Yasaman Rohani
Cold & dark
Writing journey to Iran with chip on shoulder
Zohreh Khazai Ghahremani
Love thy neighbor
Chronicles of Fredrick D. Sauma
Farid Parsa
The sentence
Short story
Peyvand Khorsandi
Yek rooze mamooli
Short story
Negar Assari
Two men in London pub
Where are you from?
Peyvand Khorsandi
Master of the jinn
Excerpt from a Sufi novel
Irving Karchmar
* Rooz-e avval-e eyd
* Monsieur Hitler
Two short stories from "Aroosi-e Khaaleh, va..."
Vida Ghahremani
Another quiet new year
From a collection of new writings by women of the Iranian diaspora
Nika Khanjani
Jumping over fire
New novel
Nahid Rachlin
A time for silence and a time for utterance
A writer’s dilemma
Mahsa Meshki
Foreign affairs
Chronicles of Fredrick D. Sauma
Farid Parsa
Since there is no help
The sound of a muted but crescendoing chord slowly reaches my ears. It is a harmonica.
Sima Nahan
Catching the blind owl
J.D. Salinger’s "The Catcher in the Rye" and Sadegh Hedayat’s "The Blind Owl"
Mahnoosh Nik-Ahd
A supermarket story
Everyone else’s blood was 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit
Maziar Shirazi
Shanbeh shab
Saturday night gambling
Shahriar Zaahedi
Tulips from the blood of martyrs
I'm an anthropologist and specialist on Iran, and lived there in 2002 with my two sons
Diane Tober
Touched
Jewelry & ceramics
Raana Ferdows
Devil's maiden
Short story
Azam Nemati
Coffin
ALI catches sight of plaque on coffin and starts to cry
Peyvand Khorsandi
Napoleon mon amour
Part 7: They all fall in love with you when they realize they can be easily replaced
Sarvenaz
Good luck in Ghana
I just watched him. I watched the twitch of every muscle in his face. I watched his hands.
Sima Nahan
The reading group
Catching up
Peyvand Khorsandi
Little alley of memories
Halfway around the globe, I am once more linked to my little snowy alley
Zohreh Khazai Ghahremani
Lying down
They had come together and found something that had worked
Siamak Vossoughi
It could have been like this
Short story
Sara Bozorg
DNA test
Short story
Cyrous Moradi
An Iranian in New York
Part 2
Sara Bozorg
A twist of fate
Story of love, betrayal and destiny, Part 3 (final)
Daniel Zangeneh
What is left for me from Sadegh Hedayat?
Excerpt
By M. F. Farzaneh, translated by Moe Maleki
Our cousins, our selves
While I collected imaginary cousins in America, in Iran they had the real thing, a whole country’s worth
Jasmin Darznik
>>> Previous years Archive
|