Letters to Majid

The alarm went off as the feeble late autumn sun was breaking through the window, illuminating the room, telling her it was time to get up to go to work. She couldn’t. She had woken up from a dream at 4:00 a.m., unable to fall asleep again until 6:00 a.m. She forced herself out of her bed, but couldn’t get very far. She made herself a cup of tea and inched her way over to her computer, where she sent a note to her boss, telling him she wouldn’t be in today. The dreams had become a part of her life over the past few weeks. Each time they visited her, she was useless the next day for she would have spent most of the night recovering from them. Sipping her tea at her computer, she had an idea. What if she wrote him a letter and explained the dreams and her feelings to him? All of a sudden she felt a little burst of energy, desperately needing to write down that which haunted her and ached inside of her >>>

Gregory Peck Was Iranian

Gregory Peck was Iranian. That was the only explanation for it. He was speaking in English and his characters had American names like Atticus Finch and even particularly American accents sometimes, but if he was going to be as principled as he was, if he was going to be so attuned to the story of the search for justice, and so sure about how much of that story to tell and how much to hold inside him, then the only explanation that made any sense to me as a boy was that he was more or less Iranian, and languages and names and accents didn't have that much to do with it. He looked it too. Not just the black hair and brown eyes that looked even darker in black-and-white. It was the way he kept something of who he was for himself and something for the world>>>

Everyday realities

This book of 20 unusual short stories by Iranian women edited and translated by the 48-year old journalist, Kaveh Basmenji and spanning several decades, is deeply melancholic with its spartan prose. A profound sadness with no respect for the etiquette of pretense, hovers like a funeral wake in calling out for each story's theme, no matter the fictitious woman's joys or sorrows. A poetic atmosphere, designed to haunt and trigger brooding reflections to its sharp introspection is what lends the reader, its lavish beauty. No doubt, the English-Language collection has been translated as closely as possible from the Persian and so there is no boastful writerly approach or superficial sophisticated style one way or the other>>>

آمريكا

آمريكا،
اى گسترده پهندشت قدرت و مكنت جهان
وى بيشه سبز سبزينه دلار،
اى كه جنگل شيشه و پولاد افراشته اى
وز اوج بلند آن
سينه سپهر خراشيده اى.
اى كه  آبى آسمان و سپيدى ستاره را
با رنگ سرخ خون آميخته اى، >>>

The Rise of Apocalyptic Islam

Ahmadinezhad is responsible for much of the rise in the apocalyptic trend's popularity and visibility in Iran. Prior to his election, Iranians knew very little of Ahmadinezhad's religious mindset, and he never mentioned Mahdism during his campaign. After taking office, however, he began supporting institutes working with the apocalyptic ideology and included prayers for the return of the Hidden Imam at the beginning of every speech. Still, Ahmadinezhad's apocalypticism is a greater threat to the religious establishment of Iran than to the West or Israel. The apocalypticism of Ahmadinezhad and his close circle is distinct from the narratives of traditional religious authority. Ahmadinezhad's primary influence is Ahmad Fardid, an Iranian philosopher who attempted to reconcile Islamic concepts with Martin Heidegger's philosophy>>>

Yes, we can too!

Roya tucks in her hair further under her head scarf as she moves to make room for the two new passengers on the back seat of the taxi. As they drive through the crowded streets of Vali Asr, the southern Tehrani taxi driver starts his speech of daily complaints. The passengers join in complaining about the traffic, the government, the price of food, the electricity fall-out, the ruthless ‘gashte ershad’(1) , everything. The taxi driver sighs, “we were stupid to start the revolution, things were so much better when the Shah (2) was still in power. Khoda rahmatesh kone!” (3) He hadn’t finished his words when one of the passengers yelled out “Eh!” She pointed to a poster taped on a street sign. It was a picture of the late Shah’s son, the Prince in exile, Reza Pahlavi. Roya couldn’t believe it. As they drove by her eyes followed the poster. All the passengers were suddenly mute.>>>

Angels and devils and spoonfuls, oh my!

Lately I have worked on a lot of events that have involved finger food or canapés and it has made me think about different ideas and combinations that are not only simple, but taste great… especially for the coming holiday season. Canapés are incredibly common in Europe, although I think when a food item is so tiny, it really is ridiculous if the preparation involved is time consuming and tedious. All that trouble for a single morsel of food? Forget it. Normal people like you and I, not only don’t have the time, but lack the patience required to produce something that will only get greedily chomped down without even the slightest thought given to the work involved in its creation! “Boooooo!” I say! Down with laborious, painstaking, fussy finger food and instead up with simple but delectable mini mouthfuls of pure heaven!>>>

The Newlyweds (17)

Dear Brother: I left you last with hope and happiness that I could go on with my life both making my wife and family happy and at the same time fulfilling the emotional emptiness that has plagued me through my friendship with Kati. Well, I have now woken up from that dream. It didn’t take much. Just some good old-fashioned jealousy. The gut-wrenching, night sweaty kind. We were out one night to some cheesy little nightclub in Richmond Hill with Nassim, her ubiquitous pal Mitra, Sam and his girlfriend Lissa, and Mitra’s date, none other than DOCTOR KEYVAN. You remember what a joke that guy is? Well, Mitra was hanging on to him like he was the most precious treasure. That girl is so desperate to get married, to someone, anyone, it is hilarious. I was getting ready for another night of boredom when to my shock, Kati showed up>>>

اصلاحات، مصلحت، ضرورت

مدت هاست که چون به عالم سياست ايران می نگرم می بينم اکثريت بزرگی از نيروهای متفکر سياسی ما خود را «اصلاح طلب» می دانند ـ به اين معنی که از «انقلاب» برای ايجاد تغييرات اجتماعی در ايران می پرهيزند و در جستجوی راه حل هائی هستند که «مدنی» (هم خانواده با «تمدن») خوانده می شوند. اما دقيق تر که می نگرم می بينم که شايد در جمع کثير اصلاح طلبان ايرانی اختلاف های ناظر بر ديدگاه و هدف بيش از آنی است که بتوان بی ذکر کردن نام گروه مورد نظر خود دربارهء اصلاح طلبی آن گروه سخنی گفت. در نتيجه اين پرسش سمج رهايم نمی کند که: «چگونه می توان طيف گستردۀ اصلاح طلبان را از لحاظ ديدگاه و هدف تقسيم بندی و اجزاء حاصل از آن را نام گذاری و تعريف کرد؟» يا، براستی، «اصلاح طلبان ايرانی چند گونه "هدف" را تعقيب نموده و می خواهند سيستم حاکم بر ايران را برای رسيدن به کدام مقصدی "اصلاح" کنند؟»>>>

The Newlyweds (16)

Dear Mrs. M., You may have heard about me from your niece Firoozeh. I am her dear old friend Maryam and I am faxing this letter to you after several attempts to contact you via telephone. I think perhaps you are out of town for a few days. Anyways, when you get this letter, I beg you, on behalf of Firoozeh, not to contact her father and share the following news with him, at least not yet. Firoozeh is afraid for his ill health and the shock that this turn of events may have on him. You, who have been her confidant for many months now, will perhaps take this news with more aplomb, as horrible as it may be. Firoozeh is currently in jail. She was arrested a few days ago and charged with domestic assault and battery. Of course, we both know she is innocent and it is her bastard of a husband, if you would please forgive my rudeness, who has set her up.>>>

More please

The thing I love most about Kiosk, is their predictable unpredictability. Just when you think you have them pegged.To jump right in, the thing I love most about Kiosk, is their predictable unpredictability. Just when you think you have them pegged, that they are going to shift from what you know, they shift off into a different direction dragging you not so much as surprised, but gladly so behind them. You're like a late entry to a long conga line at a wedding and you only have enough time to ask the person in front of you, "Where the hell are we going?" Whether done on purpose, or merely a haphazard result of the free creative process, Kiosk's latest album, "Global Zoo" takes us on the wildest ride yet. Stretching our imagination over the span of rock, blues, tango, waltz, and dare I say country western, and urrrp the long thought dead Disco!>>>