Archive - Jan 29, 2009 - Article

The day I became a woman

The day had arrived. I was both excited and scared. An elaborate meal was being prepared in our huge kitchen. Our “receiving room” (otaagh pazeeraee) had been swept and dusted and the doors to that wing of the house, usually closed during our daily life, had been left open, so I could see the beautiful red carpets and the elaborate furniture from where I was sitting. I could also see all the fruits and pastries arranged on the coffee tables, knowing full well that no one was to touch anything until the guests had arrived. Though this was one of my mother’s usual lunches with the women of our family, this was also a special day for me>>>

From BBC to Rumi

Amidst the madness around us, the joys and the sorrows, sometimes it is soothing to read or write about something that is very personal and light. Two weeks ago, I was at the Philadelphia indoor food market where many vendors bring their produce and sell them at relatively low prices. Walking around I lost my Kafia, or let’s say someone picked it up after I dropped it. I felt really bad because I had had it for nearly thirty years; I had bought it in Iran and would wear it when going to meetings at Tehran University or around the corner at the many street gatherings, during the now long gone spring of freedom of 1979>>>

I, also, have a dream!

I have a dream that IRI officials apologize to the Iranian people and surrender themselves to justice for the crimes against humanity they have been committing in Iran for the last 30 years. Apologizing for destroying Iran’s infrastructure, ruining its economy, isolating it, oppressing its people, imprisoning and murdering them, exiling them, taking their freedoms away, taking them hostage in order to promote their own brand of Islam, for making the entire world an enemy of our country, for destroying Iran’s image and reputation, for abolishing the values it once stood for, for taking Iran back to the 7th century, for applying barbaric laws and for leading the world in stupidity and savagery>>>

Just a t-shirt

Every Martin Luther King Day over the last few years, plus as many days as possible during February (Black History Month,) I have been wearing the shirt above and this year was no exception. Mine is actually black, in some ways more fitting, but I wish I had seen the version above in wine-red first. I bought it from the wonderful people at UrbanProfile.com, who also offer a wide range of other African-American themed t-shirts. This particular shirt gets some of the strangest looks, not to mention some interesting reactions. This morning while lying down on my chiropractor’s adjustment bed, I noticed him reading the back out loud. He later insisted on reading the front before discussing my ever ongoing need for additional treatment.>>>

خبری هست

همیشه در اوج بی خبری
خبری هست
خبر افتادن برگ
در گذر باد
خبر رقص یک موج
در دامن آب
خبر بغض زمین
در گلوی اتشفشان >>>

نسل در هم شکسته شصت خورشیدی

با یکی از کارمندان ارشد وزارت خارجه حرف میزدم .برای ماموریت جدیدی به تهران می رود .چمدان اش را دیشب با هم مرتب کردیم .چند دست لباس زنانه و وسایل روزمره و پنج روسری رنگی که یکی اش را خودم برایش خریده ام و خرت و پرت های دیگه. نقشه ی بزرگ تهران را جلویش گذاشتم و همه جاهایی را که با پوست و خون و قلبم دوست دارم نشانش دادم و بی اختیار اشک همه ی صورتم را پر کرد .بی آنکه نگاهم کند گذاشت با دستمال کاغذی پاکش کنم .از دربند و خیابان شریعتی و قلهک و نیاوران و میرداماد و میدان محسنی برایش گفتم .توپخانه را نشانش دادم و از هوای مسموم تهران برایش حرف زدم. آنقدر از تهران گفتم که بی اختیار گقت: می خواهی با مسئولیت خودم ببرمت تا این همه غم غربت از پا نیاندازد ترا هادی جان!>>>

خاطرات شاطر علی – 2

فکرش رفت تو خاطرات اروپا رفتن بچه محل ها زمان شاه. یادش اومد که برو بچه ها میرفتن آلمان بنز میاوردن!آخه بنده خدا نمیدونست که اولین قدم در راه حج پاک کردن مال و اموالشه! ملاهه بهش حکم کرد که اول باید همه قرض و قوله هاتو بدی. بعدش باید مالتو پاک کنی! یعنی مالیات شرعی ات رو به خدا بدی! ترجمه اش این بود که باید خمس و ذکاتت رو بدی به من (یعنی آقا پیش نماز محله)! خلاصه اینکه شاطر علی بخت برگشته اول رفت یه چرتکه خرید و شروع کرد به حساب و کتاب.سه، چهار هفته بعدش شاطر بلیط و پاسپورتش حاضر بود و روز شمار پرواز به جده بود. در نتیجه ملای محل چندین میلیون تومن ثروتمند تر شده بود!با نزدیک شدن سفر طولانی خارج از کشور، شاطر روز به روز فکرش مشوش تر و مشغول تر مشگل اصلی اش میشد!>>>