Diaspora

The Red Bead

My last minute purchase gave me tickets in the worst possible seats, but I soon found out it didn’t matter where you sat. Before I knew it, the dancers, their flawless costumes, the immaculate choreography and eloquent narration had lifted me off my seat to indulge in an ethereal experience. The drums, the light and the backdrop of Shahnameh’s pages added the perfect touch to this outstanding production. Shahrokh Moshkin Ghalam may be new to the art scene in the U.S., but just wait and see where his art will lead us next>>>

Jang, Azizam

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Nine Rubies

In 1990, two mothers sat in a modest kitchen enjoying a spring day and the usual conversation of getting to know someone new. It would turn out that their common passions of family, children, gardening and heritage became the pathway to deeper stories of women's issues, self-determination, and personal struggle. Sue was an American Jewish educator, writer and entrepreneur. Mahru was an Iranian Muslim nurse and counselor. Mahru's stories were powerful, and screamed for a way into the world>>>

No Heroes and Saviors

Mohreye Sorkh or the “Scarlet Stone” was my father - Siavash Kasrai’s last epic poem and one that is less known to Iranians than his first one - Arash Kamangir. He wrote this poem in the darkest days of his bitter separation from the country he loved most- Iran. As harsh as it was, it is this separation however that gave him the perspective needed to ponder upon the meaning of his own aspirations and inspirations; the strength needed to analyze his generation, its heroism and its heights as well as its shortcomings and failures>>>

A Mad Mad World

I don’t know if I should cry or laugh these days. I have cried quite a lot since losing a dear friend so now I want to laugh a bit. Like many Iranians I am also on Facebook. Frankly, there are times when I want to get out for good. It is a waste of time if you think about it. Though at times, it is nice to be in touch with some people otherwise you won’t be communicating with. But the world of cyberspace is clearly a crazy world>>>

Avenue Moniriyeh

Twenty years after she left Iran and knew she would never return, my mother sat alone in her house in California and talked the story of her life into a cassette recorder for me. The first tape arrived in springtime, a few weeks after No Rooz, the Iranian New Year. Eventually there would ten of them. The tapes always came marked up in Persian, and I couldn’t make out much more than my name when I opened the envelope and found the first one. I’d left home for graduate school on the East Coast the year before>>>

An Evening for Mahak

Fundraising has never been my strong point. Having experienced some level of humiliation at previous attempts, I have a hard enough time asking for sponsorship, let alone organizing a fundraising event, no matter how worthy the cause may be. But last week, when I was asked to read my poem at such an event, I could not say no to a cause that involved ailing children. Until recently, the name Mahak had meant little to me. Yes, I knew the definition of the word in Persian, but so far had only referred to its poetic application in testing purity>>>

تورنتو بهشت خاوری‌ ها

داستان‌های محیرالعقول از خرید خانه‌ها و آپارتمان‌های تورنتو توسط هم‌ترازان آقای خاوری با آب و تاب توسط هموطنان ایرانی نقل می‌شود. مدتی پیش یکی از آشنایان که در دفتر معالات ملکی کار می‌کند، می‌گفت که خود شاهد بوده است که ظرف یک ساعت یکی دیگر از همکارانش، ١٧ فقره آپارتمان برای یک ایرانی خریده است.خدا رحم کند به سرمایه‌های با خون و جفا انباشته شده ایران کهنسال که به خارج آورده شده است! >>>

If Ferdowsi Lived Today

More and more research is done to revive the pure Persian vocabulary so that once again they can take their rightful place which for centuries has been occupied by Arabic. This is admirable, but I am sadly reminded of a building tented to fight old termites while there’s a flood on the way! The grave damage done by the Arab influence has left its scars and we are so wrapped up in passionate resentment that it has blinded us to the new blows. I can’t help but ask myself, is there a difference?>>>

سماق و کورش کبیر از ملزومات کباب

چندی ست آمده‌ام لندن و از اقبال خوش توی محله‌ای خانه گرفته‌ام که بهشت را می‌ماند. تو روحیه‌ام، روش زندگی‌ام، تا حدی باورها و طرز فکرم، روابطم و حتی وزنم تاثیر گذاشته است، آن هم از نوع بسزا. اولین روزی که پیاده توی محل چرخی زدم دچار قلیان روحی شدم. با دیدن اولی شاد شدم، بعد هیجان‌زده و به ته خیابان که رسیدم امانم بریده بود. در آخر به این باور رسیدم که تمام دنیا دست اندر کار این بوده تا این آرزوی تحقق یافته، توی جعبه دست من باشد، زولبیا بامیه. احساس غرور کردم>>>