SHOMAL

Meeting the challenge

Meeting the challenge

Photo essay: Journey through northern Iran

by Sid Sarshar
14-Apr-2009 (16 comments)

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FRIEND

رستوران آقا ارمنی و روشنک جان

هیچ باور می کنی اسم اون چهار راهه باعث شد امروز به یاد روشنک جان بیافتم

by hadi khojinian
14-Apr-2009 (3 comments)
اولین بار در مغازه ی آقا ارمنی بود که روشنک را دیدم و هفته ی بعدش با هم حسابی دوست شدیم و با فرهاد به درکه رفتیم و وقت برگشتن به خانه ی فرهاد در کوچه ساری رفتیم و سری به خمره زدیم .چقدر عرق خوری سه نفری حال داد. عاشق لهجه دارآبادی روشنک شده بودم. نسل در نسل در نیاوران و دارآباد بزرگ شده بودند. دختر ماه و خوش سر و زبانی بود که دل من و فرهاد را حسابی برده بود. یک دوست خوب و با حال که اصلن فکر نمی کردی دختر باشد مثل پسر بچه ها تخس و بازیگوش بود. باور می کنی یک بار دست و پاهای من و فرهاد را به تخت بسته بود و از خانه جیم شده بود. از خنده روده بر شده بودیم از دستش. پدر سوخته جوری بسته بود که دو ساعتی طول کشیده بود که دست وپایمان را باز کنیم>>>

POETRY

Rumi's Wine
by The real Princess
14-Apr-2009 (7 comments)
When mist of past clouds your heart
When memories pierce like swords heated in flame
When broken vows empty your soul
When there’s no one to be blamed
Your heart slams its doors
On enchantments of pure love
It no longer can fathom
Further pain or harder fall >>>

IRAN

From above

From above

Photo essay: Georg Gerster's "Paradise Lost: Persia From Above"

by Georg Gerster
13-Apr-2009 (24 comments)

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COMIC BOOK

Dark Ages

Interview with the creative team of Rostam: Battle with the Deevs

by Darius Kadivar
13-Apr-2009 (3 comments)
Probably one of the greatest lessons in the Shahnameh is when it warns us of the “enemy within”. One that resides in our own persona and nurtures a self destructive impulse when we lose self confidence, start lying to ourselves and thus break the old Zoroastrian Oath of “Pendar Neek, Goftareh Neek, va Kerdareh Neek” aka “Good Thoughts, Good Words and Good Deeds”. It is then when our soul becomes corrupt, our virtues dissolve into a potion of ignorance and True Pride is replaced by Arrogance ... Thus seems to be the dilemma facing Iran’s greatest hero Rostam in Hyperwerks and its creative team’s adaptation of the third book: Rostam: Battle with the Deevs. >>>

STORY

The Secret Agent

Part 3

by Ari Siletz
12-Apr-2009 (11 comments)
Nojoom didn’t return until we were ready to board the bus. Meanwhile other hospital staff hosted us. I was waiting in the boarding line fending off Fournier’s inquires as to why I wanted us to stay, when I felt a nudge at my elbow. I turned around and was surprised to see Dr. Nojoom. “Excuse me,” he said, pulling me out of earshot ”I gather you are Iranian?” “Yes,” I said in Farsi. “Interesting bunch you are with,” he said. “What sort of school is this anyway?” I was sure he had been briefed by Dr. Parson, so I assumed he wanted an Iranian’s point of view.” I explained that it was mostly for children of foreigners living in Iran, and that my father had enrolled me here for a period because our family travels had put me out of synch with the Iranian school system>>>

STORY

سیزده به در نحس

احساس می کردم به قول نظامیان به همه اهداف از قبل تعیین شده دست یافته ام

by cyrous moradi
12-Apr-2009 (2 comments)
من مثل آن شاعری هستم که بر خلاف بقیه اصلاً بلبل را خوش آواز نمی دانست و احتمالاً تره جعفری و شنبلیله را هم بر دیدن گل های رز و گلایل و کاملیا ترجیح میداد. از همان روز ازل معتقد بودم که ماندن در خانه در روز سیزده فروردین نه تنها نحسی ندارد بلکه به علل گوناگون فواید زیادی به قول قدما بر آن مترتب است. ازجمله ایمنی اعضای خانواده در اثر حوادث گوناگون، صرفه جوئی در هزینه های خورد و خوراک و صد البته خوابیدن راحت بعد از صرف نهار در هوای بهاری و آن هم در تخت خوابی که همیشه عادت به استرحت برروی آن دارم. ولی چه کنم که نوعی دموکراسی کمونیستی در منزل ما بر قرار است و آن هم اینکه وقتی همه عقاید خود را در خصوص برنامه سیزده به در گفتند، این نظر عیال بنده است که صائب بوده و صد البته دلایل منطقی و عاطفی و اقتصادی و اجتماعی فراوانی برای توجیه آنها می توان ارائه نمود>>>

POETRY

کفشها
by Afshin Babazadeh
12-Apr-2009 (2 comments)
برابرم چند تن تنها نشسته اند
هر کدام در کفشی سبکبار شده اند
آنسو
کفشی افسون شده چرم دفتر شعری
که روزی قیمتی چشمگیر داشت
اینسو
کفش لاستیکی خودکام دفتری
با کابوس واکس سنت مرور می شود >>>

POETRY

Little Armenia

In memory of Vazgin Mansourian*

by Majid Naficy
12-Apr-2009 (4 comments)
The king hung you like a crucifix
From the neck of my city, Isfahan:
With your cathedral and cobblestones
With your taverns and goldsmiths
And your blushing daughters.
The city remained apart from you
Lying beyond Zaiandeh River. >>>

STORY

My absence

The airport is crowded... I close my eyes, raising my arm in air

by Azarin Sadegh
10-Apr-2009 (14 comments)
Mehrabad airport is crowded. Everybody seems in a rush to leave Iran. The air is dry. It’s the end of September, but the heat belongs to July. I push my valise on the floor, over the remaining pile of yesterday’s newspapers. A few pages are dragged with my suitcase. I stop pushing. I’m too tired. As the sweat runs over my forehead, I remember the exact moment when the three Pasdars raided the house last night. I wipe the sweat and wish I could wipe the tears off my mother’s face as she stood there at the center of the living room with all the eyes set on her. My mother, the woman who knows how to hide behind a serene smile, even when there’s a thunderstorm blowing her mind away>>>

STORY

Just take a wild guess

Were you glad Shirin died in this sauna, trapped in hell?

by Azadeh Azad
10-Apr-2009 (13 comments)
Bita: "I thought I would never be able to take a sauna again after what happened. On our way up here, I thought I would burst into tears, but I’m only feeling numb."

Ebi: "Well, you know, it's been more than a year now. You can’t just go on being depressed and miserable for the rest of your life. What happened, happened. We should start a new life all over again. I like to see us as happy as before."

Bita: "Yeah, before Shirin's death."

Ebi: "No! I mean like when we got married, long before she was born." >>>

POETRY

Rose in spring
by Farhad Zaltash
10-Apr-2009 (4 comments)
O rose, come and dance
On my heart as its soil
Has been dry
For too long.
O moon, come and smile
As there are a thousand
Willing flirtatious ones at
The door, these shining stars >>>

POETRY

گوید به من
by Morvarid
10-Apr-2009 (4 comments)
از درد روزگار, ناچار, میکند شادی
چونکه الا عشق, ماند کدام بازی؟

ولی در آغوش هر زن میگیرد بهانه
چونکه نیست در وجودش عشق جاودانه

عشق جاودانه چیست؟ همان عشق خدای
که در عمق خود باید کرد پیدای >>>

STORY

The Gilded Cage

“He slapped me; knocked off my glasses. I couldn’t see when he came in for the punches. He hurt me.”

by Flying Solo
08-Apr-2009 (20 comments)
I fish for a pen in my purse and find one tucked in between a diaper, a pack of gum and bills. I leaf through the forms. The first few questions are easy – name, address, contact number. The next part has me staring into the abyss of the soul for what seems to be an eternity: “Name of person you want protection from.” “Did the person commit any acts of violence or threaten to commit any acts of violence against you? If yes, describe those acts or threats”. The woman next to me sporting a blond frizz, a deep gash on her right cheek and a red blotchy nose, offers me the box of tissues. “Here - take one – wipe your face sweetheart – he ain’t worth it”. She hands me a mint >>>

TANZ

Recession Mesession

Eight ways to make the best of the hard times

by Peyvand Khorsandi
08-Apr-2009 (8 comments)
This is by far the best way to improve your financial situation. You can move to a country with a maid who will cook and clean for you all for the price of renting out your apartment. If you do not have an apartment you can work as a maid or cleaner in a developing country. The fact that you speak English and know the difference between wipe and smear will stand you in good stead. Too many cleaners in third world countries smudge rather than blitz. There is of course a moral issue – what happens to the native workers if we go getting their jobs? Screw them. How many third world people have come to the West over the years and taken our jobs here? It’s payback time>>>

STORY

پدر سهراب

سال‌های اول دهۀ هفتاد دو نفر از دوستان گفته بودند که سهراب مخفی زندگی می‌کند و با نام مستعار

by Farzaneh Aghaeipour
08-Apr-2009 (2 comments)
وقتی مرد سالخورده در خیابان ولیعصر به طرف شمال به راه افتاد، موشی توجهش را جلب کرد که برای لحظه‌ای از جوی کنار خیابان بیرون جست و گویی با دیدن ازدحامِ جمعیت، دوباره به همان جویِ خودش پناه برد. آقای ایزدی لحظه‌ای ایستاد و مخفی شدن موش را زیر پلی تماشا کرد. مردم بی توجه به موش، می‌رفتند و می‌آمدند. دلش نمی‌خواست به خانه برود. خیره، نه به گذر آب در جو، که ماندابی تیره و عفن بود، بلکه به پاکت های سیب‌زمینی سرخ کرده و پفک، دستمال کاغذی‌های مچاله و کیسه‌های نایلونی توی جو نگاه می‌کرد. آقای ایزدی به یاد آورد سال‌ها قبل، زمانی که با بچه‌هایش گردش می‌رفت، یکی از بازی‌هایی که در طول راه سرشان را گرم می‌کرد، این بود که از هم می‌پرسیدند: «اگر معلم بشی، مهندس، دکتر، کشاورز ...، چه‌کار می‌کنی؟» بچه‌ها این بازی را خیلی دوست داشتند.>>>

POETRY

Hope chest
by The real Princess
08-Apr-2009 (5 comments)
Each time I look upon an infant
I wish him a life beyond
What I had, made, and did not
And I ponder what would I do
If I did have a child....
I would knit him a pair of socks and say:
“May your tiny feet be
Always toasty and warm” >>>

POETRY

Recapturing “Dardo Nefrin”

Dedicated to my father, the Singing Man

by Mahsa Meshki
08-Apr-2009 (2 comments)
There I sat, a little girl
In admiration of the Singing Man
The Singing Man who felt so deeply
The nuances of life past, the nuances of life present
The Singing Man sang of pain, yet it wasn’t pain that he carried
He carried the subtle remnant emotion that had once made him feel alive >>>

PAHLAVI

Who was who

Interview with Dr. Abbas Milani about his Book, "Eminent Persians"

by Farrokh_Tehranzadeh
06-Apr-2009 (5 comments)
"The title, Eminent Persians, is a borrowing that’s from a famous book in English called 'Eminent Victorians.' It’s by Lytton Strachey and it is a mini biography of Victorian figures – a dozen of them - and I had read the book. It’s a very wonderful book and I loved the title. And Eminent Persians simply had in my mind a better echo, and for a title one of the things you look for is an echo... I generally believe that 'Persian,' which was what we were called in all the Indo-European languages before that infamous decision of 1935 by Reza Shah to change it. It’s a much better way of referring to us. It has 2500 years of history behind it...">>>

NOVEL

Rooftops of Tehran

First novel I read by an Iranian-American male. I found it refreshing and unique.

by Nasim Bagheri
06-Apr-2009 (3 comments)
Rooftops of Tehran touches on every human experience from love to loss. Seraji unabashedly poses the questions for which answers simply did not exist. His deep awareness of the human spirit shows through Pasha’s character, who while naïve, is a logical and extremely emotional character trying desperately to make sense of the insanity around him. The reader is lost in the tale just as Pasha is lost and thus finds himself more than simply empathizing with the protagonist. The reader feels the emotions just as deeply as Pasha does – thanks to the brilliant story-telling of Seraji. Seraji captures the delicate and poignant action of Pasha to plant a rose bush in the street for the martyr from the neighborhood>>>
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