IRANIANS
Photo essay: Portraits between places
by François Bouchet
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STORY
Way before the revolution started, I was already hiding in my room
Spring of 79. I hadn’t yet turned twenty. It was the day of the demonstration against the banning of the last liberal newspaper, Ayandegan, only a few months after the revolution. Before we left home, Arash - my cousin and Kian’s brother - promised my parents he would protect me by swearing on the Koran to impress them, even though my parents never cared about religion, even though they knew Arash was a converted Communist. It was a warm day. “Wear comfortable shoes and don’t carry anything heavy,” Arash said. Once we joined the line of protesters, Arash grabbed my hand and didn’t let it go
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NAMJOO
Possibly the most anticipated Iranian artist of our decade getting ready for his first US Tour.
For the past 6 months the improbable rumor that we might be able to see the infamous Mohsen Namjoo perform here in the US, (See Concert Tour Schedule) had me all but shuddering with delight. Little does anyone know how excited I became when rumor became fact, as it was finally announced and his Namjoo-ness appeared from the door of the airplane, fresh from Austria, at SFO a few weeks ago. He is here! Not many know Namjoo, and the impact he is sure to have on those souls lucky enough to be baptized and forgiven by his lyrics, while simultaneously being gloriously whipped into sublime ecstasy by his biting sound. Or vice versa depending on how your particular wind blows.
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PARTY
صبح اول صبحی گذاشتیمون سر کار هاااا!
میخوام یه حزب سیاسی درست کنم، قاسم!
چی میگی؟ برای کی؟
برای کی؟ برای همه!
خب این همه حزب و دسته هست، چرا دکون تازه باز می کنی؟
اینا به درد نمیخورن! هر کی سرش تو یه آخوری بنده. باید یک حزب فراگیر باشه ..
اوهوم، فراگیر! یعنی ...
آره دیگه، کاملن دموکراتیک و مردمی که همه توش جا بگیرن ..
یعنی مثلن سعید مرتضوی هم میتونه عضو بشه!
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HERITAGE
این مجموعه امید دارد، تا راه پیشرفت را بر جوانان توانا و عامه امیدوار روشنتر سازد
ایران هزار سال تمدن و تاریخ پارسی قبل از اسلام را نیز در خاطره اجتماعی خود محفوظ دارد، که حتی به موجودیت کشور بعد از سلطه اعراب هم رنگی جدا و طرحی سوا می بخشد. این گذشته باستانی با حفظ زبان فارسی در برابر عربی و با تثبیت مذهب تشیع در مقابل اسلام سُنی، ایران را پیوسته از جریانات غالب اسلامی و عربی جدا ساخته و حتی به رقابت و دشمنی کشانده است. در ارتباط با تمدن غرب نیز با وجود قرنها سلطه و تأثیر یونانی، نفوذ استعماری روس و انگلیس در قرن نوزدهم و روند غرب گرایی و اصلاح طلبی قرن بیستم، ایران تأثیر بسیار پذیرفته اما هویت رفتاری و فرهنگی خود را حفظ نموده است. سومین عامل تعیین کننده در حیات هزار ساله اخیر ایران، نقش اجتماعی و نظامی اقوام سلحشور و مهاجر ترک تبار است که با وجود تشکیل تنها یک چهارم جمعیت، اکثریت قریب به اتفاق حکومتهای ایرانی تا قرن بیستم را رهبری نموده اند.
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FICTION
A novel: Chapters 13 and 14
A big thank you to aunt Maryam for sending me this precious journal as a new year gift, eidee. She wants me to make a daily entry, long or short, even if it means only a sentence. She is confident I am going to thank her one day for encouraging me to do this. I should have begun with a self-introduction. My name is Zohreh. no Zahra. Actually it is both, not at the same time of course. I guess it depends on which school I happen to be going to. As long as I was at Mehrain, where religion is taken very seriously, I was Zahra my birth certificate name
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SEX
2,500 Years of Sexual Relations in Iran
by Willem Floor
Male superiority was a
sine qua non, also in sexual matters. Women were on the receiving end; they were dominated by their underlying position by the man, and this showed who was in charge. Because marriage gives the man the right to have sex with his wife, a woman can neither leave her husband’s bed when she has been invited nor refuse to come; she even has to cut her prayers short when he wants to sleep with her. Furthermore, because a man has paid for his wife, (although payment of the
mahr usually takes place on divorce), only he has the right to decide when and how he wants to have sex, which he also might want for medical reasons. For only men are allowed to show sexual desire, also towards women with whom they are not married
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STORY
I knew I was going to be safe as long as my homework was perfect, as long as Mrs. Mostofi remained our family’s friend
It’s hard to be a victim. It is harder to be a witness. Every man in my childhood city -- at some point in their lives -- was one of my father’s students. He had built the first high school of the town, one that allowed only boys. This accomplishment made him walk with pride, showing off his weighty influence. We lived at the end of a narrow passageway, where, in summertime, the neighborhood boys played with a plastic ball in the dusty road, fought over their turn to ride the postman’s bicycle, and the silence of their absence was the sign of approaching cold. Mrs. Mostofi, my first grade teacher, lived next door. Every time she made Halva for a religious mourning or celebration, her maid brought a plate to us
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LESSON
All the women inside of me...
There is a little girl, bright-eyed and hopeful inside of me.
There is a young woman, with a brisk gait, a boisterous laughter, a pair of feet full of dance, and a deep curiosity about people and places never seen inside of me.
There is a sultry woman, a seductress, a mistress, a lover, full of knowing touches and promising glances and welcoming kisses inside of me.
There is a giving mother, a nurturer, and a provider inside of me.
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RECOMMENDED
BELONGING: New Poetry by Iranians Around the World
I hate it when I take too long to write a review. It seems these days that the intense competition on Iranian.com has created a speed match of postings. But I am sorry, I just can't work that way. Especially when I really like something. I want to savour it a bit before I jump in and write about it. So, to those of you who have read a previous review of "BELONGING", I apologize, hopefully you'll like mine as well. If you will trust me though, and don't want to read my justification, you can know that this is simply one of those books you need to have on your shelves, one you can look for and find at a party, and hand to one of your closer American friends and smilingly say, "Here Bradley, this will explain everything!"
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MONIQUE
- آه مهستی، من یه سرطان کوچولو دارم.
امروز درست دوازده روز است که از مونیک بی خبرم و همین نگرانم می کند. باید پیش از این که خیلی دیر بشود این مطلب را در موردش بنویسم. تا پیش از این جریانات اخیر، یعنی تقریباً تا دو سال پیش مونیک به قول ایرانی ها یک دختر "همه چی تمام" بود. اول از همه: خوش هیکل بود، مونیک دختر بلندبالایی با اندامی متناسب بود. دوم: شیک بود. مونیک با موهای بلند خرمایی و اندام کشیده اش، خوش لباس هم بود، بیشتر اوقات مینی ژوپ می پوشید و ساق ها و ران های کشیده و خوش تراش خود را در جوراب شلواری های نقش دار در معرض نمایش می گذاشت. سوم: مونیک هنرمند بود. مونیک آرشکیت و نقاش بود یعنی هنوز هم هست. مونیک در رشته معماری تحصیل کرده است ولی نقاشی را بیشتر دوست داشته و تابلوهایی با طرح های آبستره می کشید، یعنی می کشد یعنی امیدوارم هنوز بتواند نقاشی کند. چهارم: خانواده دار و اصیل. مونیک از یک خانواده ی اصیل فرانسوی بود،
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BATEBI
What would have The Economist have done had a Briton been involved in a similar situation?
Voice of America TV’s Persian service had broadcast a lengthy interview with Ahmad Batebi, 31, imprisoned by the Islamic Republic after the student demonstrations of July 1999. His face was splashed on the cover of The Economist. Search engines yielded no reports in English of Batebi’s release yet there he was on VOA, talking away about his experiences. I phoned Intelligent Life, the Economist’s sister title, an upmarket glossy, pitching the idea of an interview with Batebi. They weren’t interested. So I wrote to The Economist’s foreign editor:
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STORY
India itself was a world of extremes – the antipodes brought together on every street corner
We were truly an odd couple. A twenty-three year old, completely westernized Jewish college graduate accompanying a devout Moslem merchant from Ardebil with nothing on his mind but money. Or so I thought. Boarding the plane was like entering a different world. Beautiful stewardesses passed by, their long hair falling freely. Men and women were sitting next to each other, talking and laughing in public. It came as somewhat of a shock to the system. As soon as we sat down, one of the stewardesses came by to see if we wanted some refreshments. Mr. S turned to me. “Tell her I want a Scotch over ice.” I nearly choked but managed to give the hostess our order.
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LITERATURE
آنماری شیمل و تصویر پردازی در شعر و ادب پارسی
شیمل در تشبیه شعر پارسی به فرش می گوید: "غزل با تصویر پردازیهای بی شمارش که فقط با قافیه به هم پیوند یافته اند، یادآور قالیچه های بسیار ظریف ایرانی است با طرح باغ که باید به تصاویر، گلها و سایر تزئیناتش در مقابل زمینه ای وسیعتر نظر انداخت. گرچه هر یک از آنها با معنی است امّا کلّ زیبائی آن هنوز بیشتر از زیبائی تک تک اجزاء آ ن است." شیمل همچنین شعر پارسی را به کاشی های رنگارنگ مساجد ایرانی تشبیه می کند و می گوید همانگونه که کاشیها در هر ساعت از روز دگرگون می نمایند و غالباً در برکه های کوچک آب منعکس می شوند که باز هم انعکاس رنگشان در آب متفاوت از رنگ آنها در خارج از آب است، بهمان سان خواننده باید که به اشعار هم در حالتهای روحی مختلف و زمانهای مختلف از زندگی نظر اندازد تا شاید بتواند منظور نهفتۀ آن را در یابد.
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HUMOR
و این لوله مشت محکمی است بر دهان استکبار جهانی تولید پوشک!
فکرش را بکن، در عشایر و روستا و حتی در بسیاری نقاط در شهرها هم، جیش کردن در حیاط یا معابر و کوچه و خیابان نه تنها مانعی ندارد، بلکه مساله ای عادی و روزمره است. پس فلسفه ی آویزان کردن آن سطل حلبی یا "سانتریفیوژ" در انتهای لوله ای که به چومبول بچه وصل است، چیست؟ فکر نمی کنی این آلات و ادوات برای حفظ مواد تولیدی و "غنی کردن" بعدی باشد؟ (قابل توجه آژانس هسته ای در وین!) به ابتدای لوله دقت کن! چرا "چومبول بچه"اینقدر بالا، و تقریبن جای ناف بچه قرار گرفته؟ فکر نمی کنی بچه را دانشمندان جمهوری از "سلول پایه" درست کرده اند و در پروسه ی عمل، کمی نور دیده و چومبول مربوطه چند سانتی متری بالاتر زده بیرون؟
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FICTION
A novel: Chapters 11 and 12
In the morning, K. woke up to the warmth of pleasant sunshine; a few minutes chat with his mother (who was resting her back on the living room sofa with a book of prayer, mafatih-ol jenah, to her side and sounded ill), and then after a lonely breakfast, consisting of tea, bread and cheese, he showered for about ten minutes, far less than usual. It was a small part of his new design for life to which he had woken up: to listen to the serpent-like, discordant, shriveling voices of the anti-writing self in him for once and do something different, at least for a day or two; rejected the notion of even a small indulgence by writing a postcard to his sister in Europe; was prepared for more powerful tests in the near future, tests that would agitate his determination to restore whatever equilibrium he had lost in life. He lay down on the bed naked and stared at the ceiling, breathing deeply
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COLLABORATION
First exhibition of contemporary Iranian posters in the United States
by
Jahanshah Javid >>>
CARS
It was in my mother's cars that we raced up and down the interstate all through the '80s and '90s
I first saw America from a silver Buick that called to my mother from a dealership along the New Jersey turnpike. We'd been in this country less than a week and were no more committed to America than to the rental car we'd picked up at the airport. Then she spied the Buick. I imagine something about its width and breadth and the regal redness of its plush interior put her in mind of "Charlie's Angels," a big hit back then and also the inspiration for the fringe she was sporting that year. It was ours that very day.In all the years since, I've wondered about that car and its role in all that happened afterward.
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STORY
مردانه صفت! گرد جهان گردیدم .... نامردم اگر مرد به دوران دیدم
از وقتی امید تصمیم گرفت مینی بوس قسطی بخرد، دل تو دل زنش، الهام نبود. احساس بدی داشت. با وجود آنکه امید هزاران بار نقشه را برایش توضیح داده و گفته بود که با کار سخت می تواند در ظرف حد اکثر 5 سال قسط ماشین را بدهد و آن وقت می شوند ارباب خودشان باز دل تو دلش نبود. اصلاً به دلش برات شده بود که این کار برایشان آمد ندارد. الهام بیشتر ترجیح میداد که امید بر روی ماشین دیگران کار کند و مزد بگیرد. اینجوری فرصت بیشتری داشتند با هم باشند و هر دو بچه از اینکه پدرشان را سرحال میدیدند خوشحال تر بودند. آنها می توانستند شب جمعه ها به منزل مادر بزرگشان بروند و خودشان را برای بزرگترها لوس کنند. امید دیگر تصمیم خود را گرفته بود و شمر هم جلودارش نبود چه برسد به الهام. همه چیز در چشم به هم زدنی انجام یافت و مینی بوس 21 نفره جدید امید خیلی سریع دم در خانه آفتابی شد.
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