Archive - 2008 - Article

The Monster

... this isolation from society,
this fast beat in the ear,
and the lonely violence
of sex and games and TV.
Meanwhile,
under the bright spot light,
the monster licks its gun
then joyfully begins to flee. >>>

The Lost Legend

Three thousand people watched the New York City Ballet performance every night, a performance which invariably ended in standing ovations and a crowd that simply did not want to leave the packed New York State Theater. The promising young ballet dancer took his bows, with each bow intensifying the crowd’s applause and noises of approval and adoration, singling him out as “The Star” of the show. He was born to a family of artists, poets and writers in 1961. Afshin Mofid was one of two children born to the legendary Bijan Mofid and his wife, Farideh Fardjam, the first female Iranian playwright, prize-winning author, poet, and director>>>

And the winner is... Democracy!

On the occasion of Valentine's Day, a day dedicated to verbalizing love for the object of affection, how about a story of a love in full bloom. No not another mushy personal story nor a vignette of one, rather a nonfictional snippet of an affair of the heart. It is the story of a dynamic love that as it ages it is rejuvenated, giddiness of love is reinforced by wisdom of thought, maturity brings youthful strength, intensity of passion begets clarity, and the more tender it becomes as time passes. It is the story of such potent desire that eventually it overcomes customs, deeply cherished religious beliefs and doctrines >>>

Neocons on the run

During the last year, especially since the U.S. decided to join the European dialogue with Iran on its nuclear program, and almost at the same time gave the signal to Iraq’s government to invite Iran to a tripartite discussion over Iraq’s security and finally the appearance of the National Intelligence Estimate (NIE) report admitting that Iran had suspended its (non-existent) nuclear weapons program in Fall 2003, all in all made the overall atmosphere hostile for the political habitat of the U.S. and the European neo-conservatives. Therefore, this group of reactionary politicians had to either migrate or return to hibernation>>>

Cant Bury a Good Heart

they buried a friend today

whose heart, they say

kept beating

long after he was dead

>>>

با عشق بودن، يا از عشق مردن

تا آنجا که مدارک موجود نشان می دهد، عشق در فرهنگ کهن ايرانی مورد توجه و احترام بسيار بوده است. «مهر» نام خدای بزرگ آريايی ها بوده و «مهر» و «خورشيد» نيز هموزن و گرامی و مقدس بوده اند. خود کلمه ی «عشق» هم، برخلاف تصور برخی، معرب شده ی کلمه ای کاملاً ايرانی است که در اصل به صورت «اشک» بکار می رفته است که البته ربطی به «گريه» ندارد به همين معنای عشق است. نام سلسله ی ايرانی اشکانيان نيز از همين عشق آمده است. يعنی، «عشقانيان» بوده اند در واقع! مهم تر اينکه عشق در سرزمين باستانی ما، در فرهنگ ايرانی ما، نه تنها زشت نبوده بلکه آن را همراه و همنشين «خرد» می دانسته اند. يعنی در انسان خردمند قدرت و ظرفيت عشق بيشتر است و انسان بی خرد از عشق دور تر و تهی تر به شمار می آيد.>>>

Old Citizen of the World

Iran is the old citizen of the world, if not the oldest. Yet, instead of respecting it, we are leaving its age old strength to weaken by the day. Nations have moved on, people have moved on, and what stays is the power of change. Those who can create change, a dramatic, sustaining, value-added change, are those that will prosper. And those who sit and just reminisce will forever be lost in the memories of time. Let's make a step change in our mentalities and evolve, for the time of relaxation must now end. Why have we become like this? Simple, here's how: A comfort zone is defined as a place or thinking style, in which the person involved is so comfortable in what he/she thinks is the right thing to follow in any situation, that they won't even bother to think differently>>>

I never waited for inspiration

To be honest, it's a mystery to me why my music is listened to more by a non-Iranian audience. I am not sure why that is the case. I've never specifically targeted one audience over another. Maybe it's because I sing in English, or maybe it's because the type of music I play does not sound like "typical" Iranian music... I've always been on the periphery of the Iranian community. I had always thought that the Iranian community both in Canada and in other countries listened to "typical" Iranian music. I didn't think an Iranian "underground" music scene really existed. It wasn't until I met the drummer of Kiosk, Shahrouz Molaei, that I began learning about the underground music scene in Iran>>>

The Royal Solution

There were actually only ten of us on that day and the Iranian diplomats had prepared the picnic baskets with variety of food and drinks and placed them inside the trunk of the limousine and soon we were all on our way to the picnic ground which was only a short distance from the royal palace in Monaco. As we started the trip, we noticed Grace Kelly and Prince Phillip started to sniff and snuffle their noses in an inquisitive way, like two little poppies trying to search the source of a bad smell. Grace Kelly a beautiful and elegant lady cracked the window a little for fresh air and told his Majesty the Shah: “Something smells so awful, I wonder what it is?”>>>

یادداشتی برای خواهر سنگها

آهای
خواهر سنگها
من بوسه هویت را
از لبان تبعید می چینم
و چون آدمهای قرن تصفیه حساب
با جیب سوراخ و کیف سنگین
با لبان سرخ و دکمه های تصمیم
به سرگذشت عشق فکر می کنم.
>>>

The Spider Killings

Fati took another look out the window of her tiny apartment, squinting her eyes to see as far down the street as she could, in the hopes of seeing Jamshid finally coming home. But it was to no avail. She knew that he had disappointed her once again. It was already ten o’ clock, five hours after he had promised her he would come home, bearing the rent money that was due the next day. It was useless. As soon as money, any money, made its way to Jamshid’s hands, it had a way of swiftly disappearing, up in the smoke of an opium dream. She gritted her teeth. It was too much to bear. Again, he had let her down. Again, she would be forced to do it. And she had promised herself she would never resort to it another time, that the last time was truly that, the last>>>

Exclusive elections

I just saw the news that Khomeini's grandson, Ali Eshraghi, has not been allowed to participate in the March parliamentary elections in Iran. I was looking at the picture of the guy and I was almost feeling the TERROR of Khomeini in my body. You remember how he looked. I could almost feel how the old man was able to kill mercilessly for what he believed to be the cause of Shia Islam. This guy, Mr Eshraghi, looks so much like his mass-murderer grandfather. By the way, the grandfather was indeed a ruthless man who will in time, definitely, be exposed, but the fact of the matter is that Khomeini was adored by the vast majority of Iranians>>>

نیمه راه

همان موقع که میخواست از داروخانه بیرون بیاید، متوجه شد که دارد نگاهش میکند. از داروخانه که بیرون آمد و به طرف اتوموبیلش رفت، دختر در چند قدمیاش به انتظار ایستاده بود. هفده - هیجده سال بیشتر نداشت. روسری پلنگی، چند طره موی مشکرده که افتاده بود روی پیشانیاش. مانتو کوتاه و تنگ که به سختی تا روی رانهایش میرسید. لبخند عصبی. گفته بود اگه زحمت نیس، منو برسونین. یه خرده بالاتر، تا سر آفریقا. دیرم شده. ایستاده بود کنار اتوموبیل، کیفش را روی شانه انداخته بود، دست چپیش را گرفته بود به بند کیف و دست راستش را کرده بود توی جیب مانتو. سعی میکرد مؤدب، محجوب و خانم جلوه کند. اما صدایش میلرزید.>>>

Escape From "Hell" - Glory Of "Living"

The Shivering, The Torment, The Darkness ..
The Hopelessness, The Bleakness, The Melancholy ..
All Negative Thoughts, Unseemly Influences ..
The Devil himself, Kept At Bay ..
All Joy was Gone, But Has Returned ..
The Dark cloud ever Present, Now Removed ..

>>>

Brush stroke for every human suffering

A criticism often leveled at Iman Maleki’s astonishingly realistic paintings is, “why not just use a photograph?” Maleki’s hyperrealism is rooted in obsessive compassion. But he also draws from his gift as a storyteller. In “Omens of Hafez,” one young woman is wearing a ring on her right hand, the other only a watch, both waiting."Empty sandals" is a clever way to suggest each woman is waiting for someONE. The poetry book being opened does Hafez justice with its double entendre, hinting at wedding night sensuality. There’s a subtle contrast in the facial expressions of the two characters. The soft trace of hesitation in the older girl’s face is enigmatic. What is there to fear about becoming a woman?>>>