God has made us who we are
January 17, 2001
Khalid is what you call a he-whore. He is a woman-chasing machine who
swings his bat at any female specie that comes his way without reservation
or discrimination. Born to a wealthy Arab family with ties to royalties,
Khalid roams around the globe -- contributing his sperm to human gene pool.
The man is a persistent paramour with appetite for women of all shapes
and colors. His international playboy status brings all that a gigolo-lifestyle
has to offer -- women, booze, drugs, fancy cars, and bachelor pads -- not
to mention every sexually transmitted disease known to man. His devotion
to sexual adventures and his discipline in maintaining a whorish lifestyle
is legendary among his peers.
Like many Middle Eastern male-bimbos, Khalid has a unique taste for
finer things in life such as jewelry, expensive clothing, champagne, caviar,
show horses, Sony play station, etc. At the same time he also has immense
love and appreciation for poetry. This might be by far, the only real quality
this man possesses.
But one thing that amazes me the most, is his self-acclaimed love for
Allah. Khalid claims to be a devout Moslem who has God on his mind 24-7.
He starts every sentence with a mention of God's name. "If Allah permits,
I shall have this blond bimbo in my bed tonight." Or "Inshallah,
I will bury my face in those breast-tesses this weekend."
For any Moslem who's a true believer, Khalid's mentioning of God's name
in such vain manner is insulting and devastating. But Khalid is persistent
in regard to his faith in Allah and seems oblivious to his lifestyle of
waste and ignorance.
I confronted him once regarding to his faith versus his demeanor. He
gave me a surprised look and said, "I am an Arab; I'm a Moslem by
choice. You are an Iranian; you are a Moslem by force. You Iranians are
incapable of understanding true Islam." He looked momentarily at a
young woman walking by and continued, "God has made us who we are
and I thank him for it. Why should I be someone other than myself?"
I was puzzled but I'm not the one who would discuss religion or politics;
so I changed the subject.
Khalid, who, as I mentioned adores poetry, called me the other day.
He is a big fan of old Iranian poets and he particularly admires Khayyam's
work. Since I'm Iranian, he mistakenly assumed that I have a God-given
talent for poetry.
He told me he was gearing up for the month of Ramadan and he needed
a poem that would inspire his religious convictions. He asked me to write
a poem for him -- a poem that would meticulously reflect his devotion to
God especially during the holy month of Ramadan -- a poem that would truly
project who he is.
As a person who never reads poetry, let alone writes one, I found this
an offer I could not refuse. Since I did not write Arabic and he did not
read Farsi, I decided to write the poem in English.
How hard could it be? I grabbed a clean sheet of paper, found a picture
of Khalid taken at the red light district in Amsterdam and words came to
me like a river flowing through Tehran's streets on a rainy day. I finished
the poem in ten minutes and faxed him a copy. I was excited and anticipating
a positive feedback. I have not heard from him since.
Here's what I faxed him:
Here is the poem I promised. Hope you like it.
You go to all these nightclubs
night after night
you smoke marijuana
get as high as a kite
you drink bottles of Vodka
ask for some more
you go out with this girl
who looks like a whore
you have more DUIs
than anyone I've known
you pickup all these prostitutes
and have them make you moan
you smoke three packs
every single day
you gossip about anyone
whoever comes your way
you hardly spend any time
with your kids or wife
your busy chasing women
wasting all your life
you cheat and you lie
to make yourself a dime
I'm trying really hard
but I am running out of rhyme
you get yourself a nose job
colored contact lens
showing off to everyone
your brand new Benz
you lie on your taxes
cheat the state
met your friend's grandma
and asked her on a date
you turn into a Moslem
in the month of Ramadan
you're holier than holy
God is number one
you eat like a pig
sitting on your ass
staying home all day
busy passing gas
you say to all your friends
fasting is your thing
you run to get a hamburger
at the local Burger King
you pray to Heavenly Father
once every ten weeks
you ask the Almighty
for women with big tits
you think of God
not even for a week
the rest of the year
you're thinking with your dick