I am actually writing this whilst sitting in a client meeting in Shanghai. I am running a workshop on observational research and the group I

But I forgot that your hands fed the roots, watering the tangled roses, till your fingerprints bloomed full, in a natural peace. Like pets, your

I saw her, for the first and the final time last Thursday. In a small and dimly lit chapel, which was filled with the fragrance

After writing my letter, “Not our war”, I was asked to write about my memories as a soldier in the Israeli army. I've decided to

In a recent article, one of your writers advocated to young Iranian girls not to get nose jobs so as not to lose our Iranian

On that Saturday afternoon in June, shortly before the funeral, a crowd of some two thousand mourners had lined up at the cemetery of Passy

Today once again I find myself in one of those moods where I look at my life and wonder why it turned out the way

I was a kid when my family decided to take a road trip to Khouzestan for the first time. Khoramshahr is the city I particularly

I tend not to be the sort of person who wallows in memories of “the good old days” much. I don't have the time. What's

Hair is the curse of the Iranian woman. From the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Now you will probably sigh